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diff --git a/32032.txt b/32032.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..99fefc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/32032.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2973 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Second Variety, by Philip Kindred Dick + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Second Variety + +Author: Philip Kindred Dick + +Illustrator: Alex Ebel + +Release Date: April 17, 2010 [EBook #32032] +[Last updated: May 4, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SECOND VARIETY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + This etext was produced from Space Science Fiction May 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +SECOND VARIETY + + +BY PHILIP K. DICK + + +ILLUSTRATED BY EBEL + + The claws were bad enough in the first place--nasty, crawling + little death-robots. But when they began to imitate their + creators, it was time for the human race to make peace--if it + could! + + +The Russian soldier made his way nervously up the ragged side of the +hill, holding his gun ready. He glanced around him, licking his dry +lips, his face set. From time to time he reached up a gloved hand and +wiped perspiration from his neck, pushing down his coat collar. + +Eric turned to Corporal Leone. "Want him? Or can I have him?" He +adjusted the view sight so the Russian's features squarely filled the +glass, the lines cutting across his hard, somber features. + +Leone considered. The Russian was close, moving rapidly, almost +running. "Don't fire. Wait." Leone tensed. "I don't think we're +needed." + +The Russian increased his pace, kicking ash and piles of debris out of +his way. He reached the top of the hill and stopped, panting, staring +around him. The sky was overcast, drifting clouds of gray particles. +Bare trunks of trees jutted up occasionally; the ground was level and +bare, rubble-strewn, with the ruins of buildings standing out here and +there like yellowing skulls. + +The Russian was uneasy. He knew something was wrong. He started down +the hill. Now he was only a few paces from the bunker. Eric was +getting fidgety. He played with his pistol, glancing at Leone. + +"Don't worry," Leone said. "He won't get here. They'll take care of +him." + +"Are you sure? He's got damn far." + +"They hang around close to the bunker. He's getting into the bad part. +Get set!" + +The Russian began to hurry, sliding down the hill, his boots sinking +into the heaps of gray ash, trying to keep his gun up. He stopped for +a moment, lifting his fieldglasses to his face. + +"He's looking right at us," Eric said. + + * * * * * + +The Russian came on. They could see his eyes, like two blue stones. +His mouth was open a little. He needed a shave; his chin was stubbled. +On one bony cheek was a square of tape, showing blue at the edge. A +fungoid spot. His coat was muddy and torn. One glove was missing. As +he ran his belt counter bounced up and down against him. + +Leone touched Eric's arm. "Here one comes." + +Across the ground something small and metallic came, flashing in the +dull sunlight of mid-day. A metal sphere. It raced up the hill after +the Russian, its treads flying. It was small, one of the baby ones. +Its claws were out, two razor projections spinning in a blur of white +steel. The Russian heard it. He turned instantly, firing. The sphere +dissolved into particles. But already a second had emerged and was +following the first. The Russian fired again. + +A third sphere leaped up the Russian's leg, clicking and whirring. It +jumped to the shoulder. The spinning blades disappeared into the +Russian's throat. + +Eric relaxed. "Well, that's that. God, those damn things give me the +creeps. Sometimes I think we were better off before." + +"If we hadn't invented them, they would have." Leone lit a cigarette +shakily. "I wonder why a Russian would come all this way alone. I +didn't see anyone covering him." + +Lt. Scott came slipping up the tunnel, into the bunker. "What +happened? Something entered the screen." + +"An Ivan." + +"Just one?" + +Eric brought the view screen around. Scott peered into it. Now there +were numerous metal spheres crawling over the prostrate body, dull +metal globes clicking and whirring, sawing up the Russian into small +parts to be carried away. + +"What a lot of claws," Scott murmured. + +"They come like flies. Not much game for them any more." + +Scott pushed the sight away, disgusted. "Like flies. I wonder why he +was out there. They know we have claws all around." + +A larger robot had joined the smaller spheres. It was directing +operations, a long blunt tube with projecting eyepieces. There was not +much left of the soldier. What remained was being brought down the +hillside by the host of claws. + +"Sir," Leone said. "If it's all right, I'd like to go out there and +take a look at him." + +"Why?" + +"Maybe he came with something." + +Scott considered. He shrugged. "All right. But be careful." + +"I have my tab." Leone patted the metal band at his wrist. "I'll be +out of bounds." + + * * * * * + +He picked up his rifle and stepped carefully up to the mouth of the +bunker, making his way between blocks of concrete and steel prongs, +twisted and bent. The air was cold at the top. He crossed over the +ground toward the remains of the soldier, striding across the soft +ash. A wind blew around him, swirling gray particles up in his face. +He squinted and pushed on. + +The claws retreated as he came close, some of them stiffening into +immobility. He touched his tab. The Ivan would have given something +for that! Short hard radiation emitted from the tab neutralized the +claws, put them out of commission. Even the big robot with its two +waving eyestalks retreated respectfully as he approached. + +He bent down over the remains of the soldier. The gloved hand was +closed tightly. There was something in it. Leone pried the fingers +apart. A sealed container, aluminum. Still shiny. + +He put it in his pocket and made his way back to the bunker. Behind +him the claws came back to life, moving into operation again. The +procession resumed, metal spheres moving through the gray ash with +their loads. He could hear their treads scrabbling against the ground. +He shuddered. + +Scott watched intently as he brought the shiny tube out of his pocket. +"He had that?" + +"In his hand." Leone unscrewed the top. "Maybe you should look at it, +sir." + +Scott took it. He emptied the contents out in the palm of his hand. A +small piece of silk paper, carefully folded. He sat down by the light +and unfolded it. + +"What's it say, sir?" Eric said. Several officers came up the tunnel. +Major Hendricks appeared. + +"Major," Scott said. "Look at this." + +Hendricks read the slip. "This just come?" + +"A single runner. Just now." + +"Where is he?" Hendricks asked sharply. + +"The claws got him." + +Major Hendricks grunted. "Here." He passed it to his companions. "I +think this is what we've been waiting for. They certainly took their +time about it." + +"So they want to talk terms," Scott said. "Are we going along with +them?" + +"That's not for us to decide." Hendricks sat down. "Where's the +communications officer? I want the Moon Base." + +Leone pondered as the communications officer raised the outside +antenna cautiously, scanning the sky above the bunker for any sign of +a watching Russian ship. + +"Sir," Scott said to Hendricks. "It's sure strange they suddenly came +around. We've been using the claws for almost a year. Now all of a +sudden they start to fold." + +"Maybe claws have been getting down in their bunkers." + +"One of the big ones, the kind with stalks, got into an Ivan bunker +last week," Eric said. "It got a whole platoon of them before they got +their lid shut." + +"How do you know?" + +"A buddy told me. The thing came back with--with remains." + +"Moon Base, sir," the communications officer said. + +On the screen the face of the lunar monitor appeared. His crisp +uniform contrasted to the uniforms in the bunker. And he was clean +shaven. "Moon Base." + +"This is forward command L-Whistle. On Terra. Let me have General +Thompson." + +The monitor faded. Presently General Thompson's heavy features came +into focus. "What is it, Major?" + +"Our claws got a single Russian runner with a message. We don't know +whether to act on it--there have been tricks like this in the past." + +"What's the message?" + +"The Russians want us to send a single officer on policy level over to +their lines. For a conference. They don't state the nature of the +conference. They say that matters of--" He consulted the slip. +"--Matters of grave urgency make it advisable that discussion be +opened between a representative of the UN forces and themselves." + +He held the message up to the screen for the general to scan. +Thompson's eyes moved. + +"What should we do?" Hendricks said. + +"Send a man out." + +"You don't think it's a trap?" + +"It might be. But the location they give for their forward command is +correct. It's worth a try, at any rate." + +"I'll send an officer out. And report the results to you as soon as he +returns." + +"All right, Major." Thompson broke the connection. The screen died. Up +above, the antenna came slowly down. + +Hendricks rolled up the paper, deep in thought. + +"I'll go," Leone said. + +"They want somebody at policy level." Hendricks rubbed his jaw. +"Policy level. I haven't been outside in months. Maybe I could use a +little air." + +"Don't you think it's risky?" + +Hendricks lifted the view sight and gazed into it. The remains of the +Russian were gone. Only a single claw was in sight. It was folding +itself back, disappearing into the ash, like a crab. Like some hideous +metal crab.... + +"That's the only thing that bothers me." Hendricks rubbed his wrist. +"I know I'm safe as long as I have this on me. But there's something +about them. I hate the damn things. I wish we'd never invented them. +There's something wrong with them. Relentless little--" + +"If we hadn't invented them, the Ivans would have." + +Hendricks pushed the sight back. "Anyhow, it seems to be winning the +war. I guess that's good." + +"Sounds like you're getting the same jitters as the Ivans." Hendricks +examined his wrist watch. "I guess I had better get started, if I want +to be there before dark." + + * * * * * + +He took a deep breath and then stepped out onto the gray, rubbled +ground. After a minute he lit a cigarette and stood gazing around him. +The landscape was dead. Nothing stirred. He could see for miles, +endless ash and slag, ruins of buildings. A few trees without leaves +or branches, only the trunks. Above him the eternal rolling clouds of +gray, drifting between Terra and the sun. + +Major Hendricks went on. Off to the right something scuttled, +something round and metallic. A claw, going lickety-split after +something. Probably after a small animal, a rat. They got rats, too. +As a sort of sideline. + +He came to the top of the little hill and lifted his fieldglasses. The +Russian lines were a few miles ahead of him. They had a forward +command post there. The runner had come from it. + +A squat robot with undulating arms passed by him, its arms weaving +inquiringly. The robot went on its way, disappearing under some +debris. Hendricks watched it go. He had never seen that type before. +There were getting to be more and more types he had never seen, new +varieties and sizes coming up from the underground factories. + +Hendricks put out his cigarette and hurried on. It was interesting, +the use of artificial forms in warfare. How had they got started? +Necessity. The Soviet Union had gained great initial success, usual +with the side that got the war going. Most of North America had been +blasted off the map. Retaliation was quick in coming, of course. The +sky was full of circling disc-bombers long before the war began; they +had been up there for years. The discs began sailing down all over +Russia within hours after Washington got it. + + * * * * * + +But that hadn't helped Washington. + +The American bloc governments moved to the Moon Base the first year. +There was not much else to do. Europe was gone; a slag heap with dark +weeds growing from the ashes and bones. Most of North America was +useless; nothing could be planted, no one could live. A few million +people kept going up in Canada and down in South America. But during +the second year Soviet parachutists began to drop, a few at first, +then more and more. They wore the first really effective +anti-radiation equipment; what was left of American production moved +to the moon along with the governments. + +All but the troops. The remaining troops stayed behind as best they +could, a few thousand here, a platoon there. No one knew exactly where +they were; they stayed where they could, moving around at night, +hiding in ruins, in sewers, cellars, with the rats and snakes. It +looked as if the Soviet Union had the war almost won. Except for a +handful of projectiles fired off from the moon daily, there was almost +no weapon in use against them. They came and went as they pleased. The +war, for all practical purposes, was over. Nothing effective opposed +them. + + * * * * * + +And then the first claws appeared. And overnight the complexion of the +war changed. + +The claws were awkward, at first. Slow. The Ivans knocked them off +almost as fast as they crawled out of their underground tunnels. But +then they got better, faster and more cunning. Factories, all on +Terra, turned them out. Factories a long way under ground, behind the +Soviet lines, factories that had once made atomic projectiles, now +almost forgotten. + +The claws got faster, and they got bigger. New types appeared, some +with feelers, some that flew. There were a few jumping kinds. + +The best technicians on the moon were working on designs, making them +more and more intricate, more flexible. They became uncanny; the Ivans +were having a lot of trouble with them. Some of the little claws were +learning to hide themselves, burrowing down into the ash, lying in +wait. + +And then they started getting into the Russian bunkers, slipping down +when the lids were raised for air and a look around. One claw inside a +bunker, a churning sphere of blades and metal--that was enough. And +when one got in others followed. With a weapon like that the war +couldn't go on much longer. + +Maybe it was already over. + +Maybe he was going to hear the news. Maybe the Politburo had decided +to throw in the sponge. Too bad it had taken so long. Six years. A +long time for war like that, the way they had waged it. The automatic +retaliation discs, spinning down all over Russia, hundreds of +thousands of them. Bacteria crystals. The Soviet guided missiles, +whistling through the air. The chain bombs. And now this, the robots, +the claws-- + +The claws weren't like other weapons. They were _alive_, from any +practical standpoint, whether the Governments wanted to admit it or +not. They were not machines. They were living things, spinning, +creeping, shaking themselves up suddenly from the gray ash and darting +toward a man, climbing up him, rushing for his throat. And that was +what they had been designed to do. Their job. + +They did their job well. Especially lately, with the new designs +coming up. Now they repaired themselves. They were on their own. +Radiation tabs protected the UN troops, but if a man lost his tab he +was fair game for the claws, no matter what his uniform. Down below +the surface automatic machinery stamped them out. Human beings stayed +a long way off. It was too risky; nobody wanted to be around them. +They were left to themselves. And they seemed to be doing all right. +The new designs were faster, more complex. More efficient. + +Apparently they had won the war. + + * * * * * + +Major Hendricks lit a second cigarette. The landscape depressed him. +Nothing but ash and ruins. He seemed to be alone, the only living +thing in the whole world. To the right the ruins of a town rose up, a +few walls and heaps of debris. He tossed the dead match away, +increasing his pace. Suddenly he stopped, jerking up his gun, his body +tense. For a minute it looked like-- + +From behind the shell of a ruined building a figure came, walking +slowly toward him, walking hesitantly. + +Hendricks blinked. "Stop!" + +The boy stopped. Hendricks lowered his gun. The boy stood silently, +looking at him. He was small, not very old. Perhaps eight. But it was +hard to tell. Most of the kids who remained were stunted. He wore a +faded blue sweater, ragged with dirt, and short pants. His hair was +long and matted. Brown hair. It hung over his face and around his +ears. He held something in his arms. + +"What's that you have?" Hendricks said sharply. + +The boy held it out. It was a toy, a bear. A teddy bear. The boy's +eyes were large, but without expression. + +Hendricks relaxed. "I don't want it. Keep it." + +The boy hugged the bear again. + +"Where do you live?" Hendricks said. + +"In there." + +"The ruins?" + +"Yes." + +"Underground?" + +"Yes." + +"How many are there?" + +"How--how many?" + +"How many of you. How big's your settlement?" + +The boy did not answer. + +Hendricks frowned. "You're not all by yourself, are you?" + +The boy nodded. + +"How do you stay alive?" + +"There's food." + +"What kind of food?" + +"Different." + +Hendricks studied him. "How old are you?" + +"Thirteen." + + * * * * * + +It wasn't possible. Or was it? The boy was thin, stunted. And probably +sterile. Radiation exposure, years straight. No wonder he was so +small. His arms and legs were like pipecleaners, knobby, and thin. +Hendricks touched the boy's arm. His skin was dry and rough; radiation +skin. He bent down, looking into the boy's face. There was no +expression. Big eyes, big and dark. + +"Are you blind?" Hendricks said. + +"No. I can see some." + +"How do you get away from the claws?" + +"The claws?" + +"The round things. That run and burrow." + +"I don't understand." + +Maybe there weren't any claws around. A lot of areas were free. They +collected mostly around bunkers, where there were people. The claws +had been designed to sense warmth, warmth of living things. + +"You're lucky." Hendricks straightened up. "Well? Which way are you +going? Back--back there?" + +"Can I come with you?" + +"With _me_?" Hendricks folded his arms. "I'm going a long way. Miles. +I have to hurry." He looked at his watch. "I have to get there by +nightfall." + +"I want to come." + +Hendricks fumbled in his pack. "It isn't worth it. Here." He tossed +down the food cans he had with him. "You take these and go back. +Okay?" + +The boy said nothing. + +"I'll be coming back this way. In a day or so. If you're around here +when I come back you can come along with me. All right?" + +"I want to go with you now." + +"It's a long walk." + +"I can walk." + +Hendricks shifted uneasily. It made too good a target, two people +walking along. And the boy would slow him down. But he might not come +back this way. And if the boy were really all alone-- + +"Okay. Come along." + + * * * * * + +The boy fell in beside him. Hendricks strode along. The boy walked +silently, clutching his teddy bear. + +"What's your name?" Hendricks said, after a time. + +"David Edward Derring." + +"David? What--what happened to your mother and father?" + +"They died." + +"How?" + +"In the blast." + +"How long ago?" + +"Six years." + +Hendricks slowed down. "You've been alone six years?" + +"No. There were other people for awhile. They went away." + +"And you've been alone since?" + +"Yes." + +Hendricks glanced down. The boy was strange, saying very little. +Withdrawn. But that was the way they were, the children who had +survived. Quiet. Stoic. A strange kind of fatalism gripped them. +Nothing came as a surprise. They accepted anything that came along. +There was no longer any _normal_, any natural course of things, moral +or physical, for them to expect. Custom, habit, all the determining +forces of learning were gone; only brute experience remained. + +"Am I walking too fast?" Hendricks said. + +"No." + +"How did you happen to see me?" + +"I was waiting." + +"Waiting?" Hendricks was puzzled. "What were you waiting for?" + +"To catch things." + +"What kind of things?" + +"Things to eat." + +"Oh." Hendricks set his lips grimly. A thirteen year old boy, living +on rats and gophers and half-rotten canned food. Down in a hole under +the ruins of a town. With radiation pools and claws, and Russian +dive-mines up above, coasting around in the sky. + +"Where are we going?" David asked. + +"To the Russian lines." + +"Russian?" + +"The enemy. The people who started the war. They dropped the first +radiation bombs. They began all this." + +The boy nodded. His face showed no expression. + +"I'm an American," Hendricks said. + +There was no comment. On they went, the two of them, Hendricks walking +a little ahead, David trailing behind him, hugging his dirty teddy +bear against his chest. + + * * * * * + +About four in the afternoon they stopped to eat. Hendricks built a +fire in a hollow between some slabs of concrete. He cleared the weeds +away and heaped up bits of wood. The Russians' lines were not very far +ahead. Around him was what had once been a long valley, acres of fruit +trees and grapes. Nothing remained now but a few bleak stumps and the +mountains that stretched across the horizon at the far end. And the +clouds of rolling ash that blew and drifted with the wind, settling +over the weeds and remains of buildings, walls here and there, once in +awhile what had been a road. + +Hendricks made coffee and heated up some boiled mutton and bread. +"Here." He handed bread and mutton to David. David squatted by the +edge of the fire, his knees knobby and white. He examined the food and +then passed it back, shaking his head. + +"No." + +"No? Don't you want any?" + +"No." + +Hendricks shrugged. Maybe the boy was a mutant, used to special food. +It didn't matter. When he was hungry he would find something to eat. +The boy was strange. But there were many strange changes coming over +the world. Life was not the same, anymore. It would never be the same +again. The human race was going to have to realize that. + +"Suit yourself," Hendricks said. He ate the bread and mutton by +himself, washing it down with coffee. He ate slowly, finding the food +hard to digest. When he was done he got to his feet and stamped the +fire out. + +David rose slowly, watching him with his young-old eyes. + +"We're going," Hendricks said. + +"All right." + +Hendricks walked along, his gun in his arms. They were close; he was +tense, ready for anything. The Russians should be expecting a runner, +an answer to their own runner, but they were tricky. There was always +the possibility of a slipup. He scanned the landscape around him. +Nothing but slag and ash, a few hills, charred trees. Concrete walls. +But someplace ahead was the first bunker of the Russian lines, the +forward command. Underground, buried deep, with only a periscope +showing, a few gun muzzles. Maybe an antenna. + +"Will we be there soon?" David asked. + +"Yes. Getting tired?" + +"No." + +"Why, then?" + +David did not answer. He plodded carefully along behind, picking his +way over the ash. His legs and shoes were gray with dust. His pinched +face was streaked, lines of gray ash in riverlets down the pale white +of his skin. There was no color to his face. Typical of the new +children, growing up in cellars and sewers and underground shelters. + + * * * * * + +Hendricks slowed down. He lifted his fieldglasses and studied the +ground ahead of him. Were they there, someplace, waiting for him? +Watching him, the way his men had watched the Russian runner? A chill +went up his back. Maybe they were getting their guns ready, preparing +to fire, the way his men had prepared, made ready to kill. + +Hendricks stopped, wiping perspiration from his face. "Damn." It made +him uneasy. But he should be expected. The situation was different. + +He strode over the ash, holding his gun tightly with both hands. +Behind him came David. Hendricks peered around, tight-lipped. Any +second it might happen. A burst of white light, a blast, carefully +aimed from inside a deep concrete bunker. + +He raised his arm and waved it around in a circle. + +Nothing moved. To the right a long ridge ran, topped with dead tree +trunks. A few wild vines had grown up around the trees, remains of +arbors. And the eternal dark weeds. Hendricks studied the ridge. Was +anything up there? Perfect place for a lookout. He approached the +ridge warily, David coming silently behind. If it were his command +he'd have a sentry up there, watching for troops trying to infiltrate +into the command area. Of course, if it were his command there would +be the claws around the area for full protection. + +He stopped, feet apart, hands on his hips. + +"Are we there?" David said. + +"Almost." + +"Why have we stopped?" + +"I don't want to take any chances." Hendricks advanced slowly. Now the +ridge lay directly beside him, along his right. Overlooking him. His +uneasy feeling increased. If an Ivan were up there he wouldn't have a +chance. He waved his arm again. They should be expecting someone in +the UN uniform, in response to the note capsule. Unless the whole +thing was a trap. + +"Keep up with me." He turned toward David. "Don't drop behind." + +"With you?" + +"Up beside me! We're close. We can't take any chances. Come on." + +"I'll be all right." David remained behind him, in the rear, a few +paces away, still clutching his teddy bear. + +"Have it your way." Hendricks raised his glasses again, suddenly +tense. For a moment--had something moved? He scanned the ridge +carefully. Everything was silent. Dead. No life up there, only tree +trunks and ash. Maybe a few rats. The big black rats that had survived +the claws. Mutants--built their own shelters out of saliva and ash. +Some kind of plaster. Adaptation. He started forward again. + + * * * * * + +A tall figure came out on the ridge above him, cloak flapping. +Gray-green. A Russian. Behind him a second soldier appeared, another +Russian. Both lifted their guns, aiming. + +Hendricks froze. He opened his mouth. The soldiers were kneeling, +sighting down the side of the slope. A third figure had joined them on +the ridge top, a smaller figure in gray-green. A woman. She stood +behind the other two. + +Hendricks found his voice. "Stop!" He waved up at them frantically. +"I'm--" + +The two Russians fired. Behind Hendricks there was a faint _pop_. +Waves of heat lapped against him, throwing him to the ground. Ash tore +at his face, grinding into his eyes and nose. Choking, he pulled +himself to his knees. It was all a trap. He was finished. He had come +to be killed, like a steer. The soldiers and the woman were coming +down the side of the ridge toward him, sliding down through the soft +ash. Hendricks was numb. His head throbbed. Awkwardly, he got his +rifle up and took aim. It weighed a thousand tons; he could hardly +hold it. His nose and cheeks stung. The air was full of the blast +smell, a bitter acrid stench. + +"Don't fire," the first Russian said, in heavily accented English. + +The three of them came up to him, surrounding him. "Put down your +rifle, Yank," the other said. + +Hendricks was dazed. Everything had happened so fast. He had been +caught. And they had blasted the boy. He turned his head. David was +gone. What remained of him was strewn across the ground. + +The three Russians studied him curiously. Hendricks sat, wiping blood +from his nose, picking out bits of ash. He shook his head, trying to +clear it. "Why did you do it?" he murmured thickly. "The boy." + +"Why?" One of the soldiers helped him roughly to his feet. He turned +Hendricks around. "Look." + +Hendricks closed his eyes. + +"Look!" The two Russians pulled him forward. "See. Hurry up. There +isn't much time to spare, Yank!" + +Hendricks looked. And gasped. + +"See now? Now do you understand?" + + * * * * * + +From the remains of David a metal wheel rolled. Relays, glinting +metal. Parts, wiring. One of the Russians kicked at the heap of +remains. Parts popped out, rolling away, wheels and springs and rods. +A plastic section fell in, half charred. Hendricks bent shakily down. +The front of the head had come off. He could make out the intricate +brain, wires and relays, tiny tubes and switches, thousands of minute +studs-- + +"A robot," the soldier holding his arm said. "We watched it tagging +you." + +"Tagging me?" + +"That's their way. They tag along with you. Into the bunker. That's +how they get in." + +Hendricks blinked, dazed. "But--" + +"Come on." They led him toward the ridge. "We can't stay here. It +isn't safe. There must be hundreds of them all around here." + +The three of them pulled him up the side of the ridge, sliding and +slipping on the ash. The woman reached the top and stood waiting for +them. + +"The forward command," Hendricks muttered. "I came to negotiate with +the Soviet--" + +"There is no more forward command. _They_ got in. We'll explain." They +reached the top of the ridge. "We're all that's left. The three of us. +The rest were down in the bunker." + +"This way. Down this way." The woman unscrewed a lid, a gray manhole +cover set in the ground. "Get in." + +Hendricks lowered himself. The two soldiers and the woman came behind +him, following him down the ladder. The woman closed the lid after +them, bolting it tightly into place. + +"Good thing we saw you," one of the two soldiers grunted. "It had +tagged you about as far as it was going to." + + * * * * * + +"Give me one of your cigarettes," the woman said. "I haven't had an +American cigarette for weeks." + +Hendricks pushed the pack to her. She took a cigarette and passed the +pack to the two soldiers. In the corner of the small room the lamp +gleamed fitfully. The room was low-ceilinged, cramped. The four of +them sat around a small wood table. A few dirty dishes were stacked to +one side. Behind a ragged curtain a second room was partly visible. +Hendricks saw the corner of a cot, some blankets, clothes hung on a +hook. + +"We were here," the soldier beside him said. He took off his helmet, +pushing his blond hair back. "I'm Corporal Rudi Maxer. Polish. +Impressed in the Soviet Army two years ago." He held out his hand. + +Hendricks hesitated and then shook. "Major Joseph Hendricks." + +"Klaus Epstein." The other soldier shook with him, a small dark man +with thinning hair. Epstein plucked nervously at his ear. "Austrian. +Impressed God knows when. I don't remember. The three of us were here, +Rudi and I, with Tasso." He indicated the woman. "That's how we +escaped. All the rest were down in the bunker." + +"And--and _they_ got in?" + +Epstein lit a cigarette. "First just one of them. The kind that tagged +you. Then it let others in." + +Hendricks became alert. "The _kind_? Are there more than one kind?" + +"The little boy. David. David holding his teddy bear. That's Variety +Three. The most effective." + +"What are the other types?" + +Epstein reached into his coat. "Here." He tossed a packet of +photographs onto the table, tied with a string. "Look for yourself." + +Hendricks untied the string. + +"You see," Rudi Maxer said, "that was why we wanted to talk terms. The +Russians, I mean. We found out about a week ago. Found out that your +claws were beginning to make up new designs on their own. New types of +their own. Better types. Down in your underground factories behind our +lines. You let them stamp themselves, repair themselves. Made them +more and more intricate. It's your fault this happened." + + * * * * * + +Hendricks examined the photos. They had been snapped hurriedly; they +were blurred and indistinct. The first few showed--David. David +walking along a road, by himself. David and another David. Three +Davids. All exactly alike. Each with a ragged teddy bear. + +All pathetic. + +"Look at the others," Tasso said. + +The next pictures, taken at a great distance, showed a towering +wounded soldier sitting by the side of a path, his arm in a sling, the +stump of one leg extended, a crude crutch on his lap. Then two wounded +soldiers, both the same, standing side by side. + +"That's Variety One. The Wounded Soldier." Klaus reached out and took +the pictures. "You see, the claws were designed to get to human +beings. To find them. Each kind was better than the last. They got +farther, closer, past most of our defenses, into our lines. But as +long as they were merely _machines_, metal spheres with claws and +horns, feelers, they could be picked off like any other object. They +could be detected as lethal robots as soon as they were seen. Once we +caught sight of them--" + +"Variety One subverted our whole north wing," Rudi said. "It was a +long time before anyone caught on. Then it was too late. They came in, +wounded soldiers, knocking and begging to be let in. So we let them +in. And as soon as they were in they took over. We were watching out +for machines...." + +"At that time it was thought there was only the one type," Klaus +Epstein said. "No one suspected there were other types. The pictures +were flashed to us. When the runner was sent to you, we knew of just +one type. Variety One. The big Wounded Soldier. We thought that was +all." + +"Your line fell to--" + +"To Variety Three. David and his bear. That worked even better." Klaus +smiled bitterly. "Soldiers are suckers for children. We brought them +in and tried to feed them. We found out the hard way what they were +after. At least, those who were in the bunker." + +"The three of us were lucky," Rudi said. "Klaus and I were--were +visiting Tasso when it happened. This is her place." He waved a big +hand around. "This little cellar. We finished and climbed the ladder +to start back. From the ridge we saw. There they were, all around the +bunker. Fighting was still going on. David and his bear. Hundreds of +them. Klaus took the pictures." + +Klaus tied up the photographs again. + + * * * * * + +"And it's going on all along your line?" Hendricks said. + +"Yes." + +"How about _our_ lines?" Without thinking, he touched the tab on his +arm. "Can they--" + +"They're not bothered by your radiation tabs. It makes no difference +to them, Russian, American, Pole, German. It's all the same. They're +doing what they were designed to do. Carrying out the original idea. +They track down life, wherever they find it." + +"They go by warmth," Klaus said. "That was the way you constructed +them from the very start. Of course, those you designed were kept back +by the radiation tabs you wear. Now they've got around that. These new +varieties are lead-lined." + +"What's the other variety?" Hendricks asked. "The David type, the +Wounded Soldier--what's the other?" + +"We don't know." Klaus pointed up at the wall. On the wall were two +metal plates, ragged at the edges. Hendricks got up and studied them. +They were bent and dented. + +"The one on the left came off a Wounded Soldier," Rudi said. "We got +one of them. It was going along toward our old bunker. We got it from +the ridge, the same way we got the David tagging you." + +The plate was stamped: I-V. Hendricks touched the other plate. "And +this came from the David type?" + +"Yes." The plate was stamped: III-V. + +Klaus took a look at them, leaning over Hendricks' broad shoulder. +"You can see what we're up against. There's another type. Maybe it was +abandoned. Maybe it didn't work. But there must be a Second Variety. +There's One and Three." + +"You were lucky," Rudi said. "The David tagged you all the way here +and never touched you. Probably thought you'd get it into a bunker, +somewhere." + +"One gets in and it's all over," Klaus said. "They move fast. One lets +all the rest inside. They're inflexible. Machines with one purpose. +They were built for only one thing." He rubbed sweat from his lip. "We +saw." + +They were silent. + +"Let me have another cigarette, Yank," Tasso said. "They are good. I +almost forgot how they were." + + * * * * * + +It was night. The sky was black. No stars were visible through the +rolling clouds of ash. Klaus lifted the lid cautiously so that +Hendricks could look out. + +Rudi pointed into the darkness. "Over that way are the bunkers. Where +we used to be. Not over half a mile from us. It was just chance Klaus +and I were not there when it happened. Weakness. Saved by our lusts." + +"All the rest must be dead," Klaus said in a low voice. "It came +quickly. This morning the Politburo reached their decision. They +notified us--forward command. Our runner was sent out at once. We saw +him start toward the direction of your lines. We covered him until he +was out of sight." + +"Alex Radrivsky. We both knew him. He disappeared about six o'clock. +The sun had just come up. About noon Klaus and I had an hour relief. +We crept off, away from the bunkers. No one was watching. We came +here. There used to be a town here, a few houses, a street. This +cellar was part of a big farmhouse. We knew Tasso would be here, +hiding down in her little place. We had come here before. Others from +the bunkers came here. Today happened to be our turn." + +"So we were saved," Klaus said. "Chance. It might have been others. +We--we finished, and then we came up to the surface and started back +along the ridge. That was when we saw them, the Davids. We understood +right away. We had seen the photos of the First Variety, the Wounded +Soldier. Our Commissar distributed them to us with an explanation. If +we had gone another step they would have seen us. As it was we had to +blast two Davids before we got back. There were hundreds of them, all +around. Like ants. We took pictures and slipped back here, bolting the +lid tight." + +"They're not so much when you catch them alone. We moved faster than +they did. But they're inexorable. Not like living things. They came +right at us. And we blasted them." + +Major Hendricks rested against the edge of the lid, adjusting his eyes +to the darkness. "Is it safe to have the lid up at all?" + +"If we're careful. How else can you operate your transmitter?" + +Hendricks lifted the small belt transmitter slowly. He pressed it +against his ear. The metal was cold and damp. He blew against the +mike, raising up the short antenna. A faint hum sounded in his ear. +"That's true, I suppose." + +But he still hesitated. + +"We'll pull you under if anything happens," Klaus said. + +"Thanks." Hendricks waited a moment, resting the transmitter against +his shoulder. "Interesting, isn't it?" + +"What?" + +"This, the new types. The new varieties of claws. We're completely at +their mercy, aren't we? By now they've probably gotten into the UN +lines, too. It makes me wonder if we're not seeing the beginning of a +new species. _The_ new species. Evolution. The race to come after +man." + + * * * * * + +Rudi grunted. "There is no race after man." + +"No? Why not? Maybe we're seeing it now, the end of human beings, the +beginning of the new society." + +"They're not a race. They're mechanical killers. You made them to +destroy. That's all they can do. They're machines with a job." + +"So it seems now. But how about later on? After the war is over. +Maybe, when there aren't any humans to destroy, their real +potentialities will begin to show." + +"You talk as if they were alive!" + +"Aren't they?" + +There was silence. "They're machines," Rudi said. "They look like +people, but they're machines." + +"Use your transmitter, Major," Klaus said. "We can't stay up here +forever." + +Holding the transmitter tightly Hendricks called the code of the +command bunker. He waited, listening. No response. Only silence. He +checked the leads carefully. Everything was in place. + +"Scott!" he said into the mike. "Can you hear me?" + +Silence. He raised the gain up full and tried again. Only static. + +"I don't get anything. They may hear me but they may not want to +answer." + +"Tell them it's an emergency." + +"They'll think I'm being forced to call. Under your direction." He +tried again, outlining briefly what he had learned. But still the +phone was silent, except for the faint static. + +"Radiation pools kill most transmission," Klaus said, after awhile. +"Maybe that's it." + +Hendricks shut the transmitter up. "No use. No answer. Radiation +pools? Maybe. Or they hear me, but won't answer. Frankly, that's what +I would do, if a runner tried to call from the Soviet lines. They have +no reason to believe such a story. They may hear everything I say--" + +"Or maybe it's too late." + +Hendricks nodded. + +"We better get the lid down," Rudi said nervously. "We don't want to +take unnecessary chances." + + * * * * * + +They climbed slowly back down the tunnel. Klaus bolted the lid +carefully into place. They descended into the kitchen. The air was +heavy and close around them. + +"Could they work that fast?" Hendricks said. "I left the bunker this +noon. Ten hours ago. How could they move so quickly?" + +"It doesn't take them long. Not after the first one gets in. It goes +wild. You know what the little claws can do. Even _one_ of these is +beyond belief. Razors, each finger. Maniacal." + +"All right." Hendricks moved away impatiently. He stood with his back +to them. + +"What's the matter?" Rudi said. + +"The Moon Base. God, if they've gotten there--" + +"The Moon Base?" + +Hendricks turned around. "They couldn't have got to the Moon Base. How +would they get there? It isn't possible. I can't believe it." + +"What is this Moon Base? We've heard rumors, but nothing definite. +What is the actual situation? You seem concerned." + +"We're supplied from the moon. The governments are there, under the +lunar surface. All our people and industries. That's what keeps us +going. If they should find some way of getting off Terra, onto the +moon--" + +"It only takes one of them. Once the first one gets in it admits the +others. Hundreds of them, all alike. You should have seen them. +Identical. Like ants." + +"Perfect socialism," Tasso said. "The ideal of the communist state. +All citizens interchangeable." + +Klaus grunted angrily. "That's enough. Well? What next?" + +Hendricks paced back and forth, around the small room. The air was +full of smells of food and perspiration. The others watched him. +Presently Tasso pushed through the curtain, into the other room. "I'm +going to take a nap." + +The curtain closed behind her. Rudi and Klaus sat down at the table, +still watching Hendricks. + +"It's up to you," Klaus said. "We don't know your situation." + +Hendricks nodded. + +"It's a problem." Rudi drank some coffee, filling his cup from a rusty +pot. "We're safe here for awhile, but we can't stay here forever. Not +enough food or supplies." + +"But if we go outside--" + +"If we go outside they'll get us. Or probably they'll get us. We +couldn't go very far. How far is your command bunker, Major?" + +"Three or four miles." + +"We might make it. The four of us. Four of us could watch all sides. +They couldn't slip up behind us and start tagging us. We have three +rifles, three blast rifles. Tasso can have my pistol." Rudi tapped his +belt. "In the Soviet army we didn't have shoes always, but we had +guns. With all four of us armed one of us might get to your command +bunker. Preferably you, Major." + +"What if they're already there?" Klaus said. + +Rudi shrugged. "Well, then we come back here." + + * * * * * + +Hendricks stopped pacing. "What do you think the chances are they're +already in the American lines?" + +"Hard to say. Fairly good. They're organized. They know exactly what +they're doing. Once they start they go like a horde of locusts. They +have to keep moving, and fast. It's secrecy and speed they depend on. +Surprise. They push their way in before anyone has any idea." + +"I see," Hendricks murmured. + +From the other room Tasso stirred. "Major?" + +Hendricks pushed the curtain back. "What?" + +[Illustration] + +Tasso looked up at him lazily from the cot. "Have you any more +American cigarettes left?" + +Hendricks went into the room and sat down across from her, on a wood +stool. He felt in his pockets. "No. All gone." + +"Too bad." + +"What nationality are you?" Hendricks asked after awhile. + +"Russian." + +"How did you get here?" + +"Here?" + +"This used to be France. This was part of Normandy. Did you come with +the Soviet army?" + +"Why?" + +"Just curious." He studied her. She had taken off her coat, tossing it +over the end of the cot. She was young, about twenty. Slim. Her long +hair stretched out over the pillow. She was staring at him silently, +her eyes dark and large. + +"What's on your mind?" Tasso said. + +"Nothing. How old are you?" + +"Eighteen." She continued to watch him, unblinking, her arms behind +her head. She had on Russian army pants and shirt. Gray-green. Thick +leather belt with counter and cartridges. Medicine kit. + +"You're in the Soviet army?" + +"No." + +"Where did you get the uniform?" + +She shrugged. "It was given to me," she told him. + +"How--how old were you when you came here?" + +"Sixteen." + +"That young?" + +Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" + + * * * * * + +Hendricks rubbed his jaw. "Your life would have been a lot different +if there had been no war. Sixteen. You came here at sixteen. To live +this way." + +"I had to survive." + +"I'm not moralizing." + +"Your life would have been different, too," Tasso murmured. She +reached down and unfastened one of her boots. She kicked the boot off, +onto the floor. "Major, do you want to go in the other room? I'm +sleepy." + +"It's going to be a problem, the four of us here. It's going to be +hard to live in these quarters. Are there just the two rooms?" + +"Yes." + +"How big was the cellar originally? Was it larger than this? Are there +other rooms filled up with debris? We might be able to open one of +them." + +"Perhaps. I really don't know." Tasso loosened her belt. She made +herself comfortable on the cot, unbuttoning her shirt. "You're sure +you have no more cigarettes?" + +"I had only the one pack." + +"Too bad. Maybe if we get back to your bunker we can find some." The +other boot fell. Tasso reached up for the light cord. "Good night." + +"You're going to sleep?" + +"That's right." + +The room plunged into darkness. Hendricks got up and made his way past +the curtain, into the kitchen. + +And stopped, rigid. + +Rudi stood against the wall, his face white and gleaming. His mouth +opened and closed but no sounds came. Klaus stood in front of him, the +muzzle of his pistol in Rudi's stomach. Neither of them moved. Klaus, +his hand tight around his gun, his features set. Rudi, pale and +silent, spread-eagled against the wall. + +"What--" Hendricks muttered, but Klaus cut him off. + +"Be quiet, Major. Come over here. Your gun. Get out your gun." + +Hendricks drew his pistol. "What is it?" + +"Cover him." Klaus motioned him forward. "Beside me. Hurry!" + +Rudi moved a little, lowering his arms. He turned to Hendricks, +licking his lips. The whites of his eyes shone wildly. Sweat dripped +from his forehead, down his cheeks. He fixed his gaze on Hendricks. +"Major, he's gone insane. Stop him." Rudi's voice was thin and hoarse, +almost inaudible. + +"What's going on?" Hendricks demanded. + +Without lowering his pistol Klaus answered. "Major, remember our +discussion? The Three Varieties? We knew about One and Three. But we +didn't know about Two. At least, we didn't know before." Klaus' +fingers tightened around the gun butt. "We didn't know before, but we +know now." + +He pressed the trigger. A burst of white heat rolled out of the gun, +licking around Rudi. + +"Major, this is the 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." + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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?" + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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!" + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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." + + * * * * * + +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?" + + * * * * * + +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?" + + * * * * * + +"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. + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + +"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. + + * * * * * + +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-- + + * * * * * + +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. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Second Variety, by Philip Kindred Dick + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SECOND VARIETY *** + +***** This file should be named 32032.txt or 32032.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/0/3/32032/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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