Worlds Apart (26 page)

But the sands were running out. In the next week, Rog calculated, on the basis of facts Bentley had supplied, the long-delayed encounter would come.

They had set up listening posts five miles from Freedom, each with someone on duty day and night. Seconds would count; the sentries had had nothing to do but close a switch, and Freedom would be ready. That meant a big wastage in trained manpower, though. Dick and Bentley between them had built a simple alarm which would be triggered by the sound of the Clades' engines over silent Mundis. At one after another out-post the alarm was installed. Now Freedom trusted entirely to it for the first warning. A split second after the first murmur of engines was picked up five miles away, everyone in Freedom would be alert, waiting.

Now that Freedom had the tools and equipment to do jobs easily, Rog had had a funkhole dug several miles from the city. There were always a hundred people there. Rog didn't like the idea, but he felt this had to be done. If the Clades appeared and it and Freedom destroyed each other, at least there would be people left to start again. Or, a little better, if there was rescue work to be done, there would be a hundred rescuers. Alice was left in charge of that party, and Dick was generally with them.

There was more protection than there seemed to be for those who remained in the city. And the buildings themselves could take a lot more than one would imagine, looking at them. The Carliss-Foley-Mitchell combination built gracefully but cunningly. Strength was a prerequisite, though it might be strength hidden, even strength denied.

The city was strong and there was protection against blast for everyone who would be in it, because Rog was calculating on a strong possibility that an atom bomb would be detonated in the air above Freedom. Twenty-five men with three beams had no job but to watch the smooth metal keel of the Clades, two-thirds of the way along, at the point from which a bomb would emerge if Corey should decide the Mundan city must be destroyed. Whenever there was a crack in the blank metal, those beams would meet on it. And the bomb, though it would do Freedom no good, would do the Clades much less,

This was the bad time for Freedom, the waiting time. If he could, Rog would have sent for the Clades. People would go mad under a strain like this. Already Alice had been sent four gunners who thought they had seen the Clades.

And with the recollection Rog realized that he should never be so far from his post, now. He was fully three hundred yards from it, with no means of getting there but running. A minute . . . and Freedom might he gone in a minute.

He stood up. June stood with him. "Rog," she said, "let's call it off, shall we?"

It took Rog long seconds to fix his mind on what she was talking about. At first he thought she meant call off the Clade-Mundan dispute, and wondered if there was some way of doing that which he had never noticed.

"I know why you did it," said June. "You had to marry someone. But it doesn't matter now, or for a long time. You should be free, not having to think about me."

"June . . . " said Rog. He wanted to say what he knew she still wanted to hear. But to Rog, honor and kindness and chivalry were subject to common sense. It would he better for June, for him, and for Abner if June, instead of having her impulsive suggestion refused, should find it acted on at once.

"You're perfectly right, June," said Rog warmly. He knew he was hurting her, but believed it was a clean hurt. "Don't let's play out a fantastic situation because we won't admit we made a mistake."

He couldn't see June's face in the darkness. He was glad; this was one time when he didn't want to see it.

3

"There!" said Corey exultantly.

He didn't have to give any order; it had been given long ago. The Clades, having sighted something which was clearly the Mundan settlement, though there was no time to see any details, instantly withdrew again. It had been nosing along quietly, and now as it dropped to the ground whatever it was that had been seen was over the horizon.

Toni was brought into the big observation room in the nose of the ship, in the care of Phyllis. Soon afterwards Pertwee appeared, still blinking. Toni cried out at sight of him. His skin was white and he had a ragged beard. He had been allowed to keep himself clean, for the Clades were risking no disease, but he was shaky on his feet and seemed to have difficulty in keeping his balance.

Sloan was there, and Fenham came in silently as Pertwee's eyes slowly learned to give his mind clear images again. The sound of feet in the corridors of the ship was a dull roar.

Mathers came in with a dripping print. It was a picture which had been taken in the few seconds when the Mundan town had been visible from the ship. Corey scrutinized it.

"Plan Three," he said.

Sloan was looking at the picture now. "I don't like the look of this, sir," he said, "That city -- "

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Captain," said Corey. "All discussion is over. This is action."

"But Plan Three, sir -- "

"That'll do, captain."

"I wish to support Captain Sloan, sir," said Phyllis. "I think I know what his objections are. I agree."

"This," the commodore declared slowly, "is a fighting ship, manned by a trained fighting force, and this is the first opportunity it has had to fight. And immediately we sight the probable enemy, two of my chief officers suddenly decide -- "

"Pardon me, sir," said Phyllis. "I think you know there is nothing sudden about this."

Pertwee, gradually coming to life after an eternity when the only event was a meal or an opportunity to wash or change his clothes in pitch blackness, looked up with his old keenness at that. Phyllis was burning her boats. She had decided, apparently, after a glance at the print of the Mundan City, to throw in her lot with him, Toni, and the Mundans. Later it might be too late to jump. PertWee noticed, too, that Sloan, without orders, was recording the proceedings.

"I am with you, of course, sir," said Mathers.

"Then relay Plan Three."

There were two control rooms in the ship, and this, exposed as it was, wasn't either of them. Corey's order placed Mathers at the board which was rather a communication point than anything rise. Corey nodded to Fenham, and she went out again, presumably to one of the control rooms. Phyllis and Sloan exchanged glances which weren't lost on Pertwee. One or both of them should have been employed instead of Fenham and Mathers, it seemed.

Mathers at the board could see very little. Corey meant to give the orders, so Mathers didn't have to see. The signals were pre-arranged, coded. As the situation changed Corey would give an order, Mathers would interpret it, relay a laconic signal to some point in the ship, and there someone would do something he was standing ready to do.

A speaker at Mathers's left ear said "Ess two."

"Landing complete, force clear," said Mathers.

They couldn't see it from the observation room, which at the moment showed only a few square yards of bracken, but a big land force had been disembarked. At the signal that the landing was complete, the ship rose again. Wyness must be in command of the land force, Pertwee realized.

The ship moved forward, and Pertwee's eyes completed their recovery just in time for him to see the city as soon and as plainly as the others did.

He knew he was there largely so that his reactions could be studied, and had determined not to give anything away, whatever happened, whatever he saw. But as he saw what the Mundans had done he gasped in amazement.

To Pertwee what Corey did then was insane, for one glance at the city had shown Pertwee that the Mundans had succeeded in everything they had attempted. As a community they had suddenly, brilliantly, found the Midas touch. But what Corey had seen was different. He saw a clean, graceful city, open, defenseless. He saw slender, effete buildings that would hardly survive a storm on Secundis. He saw open spaces and freedom in every sweeping line of the Mundan settlement.

He saw beauty. Beauty was weakness. There could be no strength, nothing for Clades to fear, in that city.

He spoke rapidly to Mathers, and the Clades swooped on the city. Even inside it they could hear every word from the amplifiers at full power.

"Your leaders will march out and we shall pick them up. They will bring back to you the terms of the Clade-Mundan alliance. Do not be alarmed. There will be no disorder. Anyone making a disturbance will he shot. You have ten minutes. Your leaders will march out and we shall pick them up. They will bring back to you the terms . . . "

There must have been other recordings waiting to be relayed by amplifier to the Mundans. The commodore, on a glance at the city, had decided which would be the first message to pass between Mundan and Clade. And that was it.

Pertwee had never in his life felt more helpless. He almost wished that he was down below with a rifle, however futile a rifle might be. Then he could do something, if it was only to fire a useless shot that wouldn't even reach the steel hide of the monster over the city.

Toni was staring at the wonderful sight below. Sloan and Phyllis stood immobile, knowing that for them this was more than a battle, it was a personal issue. If Plan Three worked, Corey was right, they were wrong, and Corey would take full advantage of it.

Two minutes.

Then alarm bells rang. Mathers snapped a speaker switch. "Heavy beam on tail," said a voice. Corey barked something, Mathers spoke rapidly, flicking switches. Long seconds, then two miles away something concealed in the grass of the plain glowed, exploded, and was suddenly a ridiculous little puff of smoke. The beam had been traced and destroyed.

"Heavy beam on tail," the speaker reported, "From other side of city this time."

"Plan Sevenl" said Corey. Mathers moved again, and the ship lurched as acceleration gripped it. "Heavy beam on tail," said the speaker. "Bombs ready," Mathers reported. Corey gestured impatiently.

Something dropped from the ship, well forward. It wasn't an atom bomb, and it wasn't aimed at the city. This was a demonstration, now that a demonstration was obviously necessary. It would shatter every window in the city, but wouldn't do much more damage than that.

Something happened to it. There was another ridiculous little puff of smoke, in mid-air this time.

"City center, full power," said Corey.

"You can't!" Sloan shouted. "Even if we all die . . . "

"City center, full power!" Corey barked.

Mathers leaned forward, Then he dropped away from the switchboard. Phyllis had shot him through the head so that his body couldn't continue its movement and press the switch. Corey whirled, his gun in his hand. But Sloan was going to need all his allies, particularly Phyllis. He kicked the commodore's wrist and the gun slid along the floor.

Phyllis didn't know it, but she had saved the Clares, not the Mundans.

It was only three seconds later that the ground slid under the ship and the six people in the room, five alive and one dead, were thrown violently across it. "Tail gone,"sald the speaker, with gloomy finality.

There was no defense against the atom. And Mundis, after all, had used it first.

The ground force was beaten by an old weapon. Several things were ready, but when one of the watchers in the pillboxes well clear of the city reported that the Clades had no masks, Rog merely opened the cocks and Freedom was surrounded by a belt of heavy, rolling gas. None of the Clades died, except one who shot himself in falling.

But none of them remained on their feet either. And the ship, just to prove the Mundans still had the Midas touch, dropped into the belt of gas too, with all its airvents open, its tail gone and the hull split in places by the heavy landing. By that time the issue wasn't in doubt -- but it could have been a lot more difficult and costly for Rog and the Mundam.

4

"And that," said Bentley, "was why we were conditioned against nuclear energy. There's no defense. Used efficiently, as you used it, Rog, it may mean victory without loss. It isn't often used like that."

He noted with mild irritation that Rog wasn't listening. They were walking along the corridor that ran round the new Council Chamber. It wasn't finished. Hardly any interiors were, so far. Rog was looking about him, wondering what Abner meant to do to the bare walls and roof.

"A more usual result," said Bentley more loudly, "is what would have happened but for Phyllis Barton and your detonation squad that wasn't needed. Total destruction of both sides."

Rog brought his thoughts back from picturing the Council buildings as they would be when Abner was finished with them. A change had come over Abner's work already, since he had married June. It hadn't lost its vigor, but instead of the dash and boldness there was a new precision, as if the whole thing had been complete in his mind from the first instant.

"Yes," he said, "I suppose it would be." He pushed open the door of the Chamber itself. They were the last to take their places.

Jessie Bendall was busy elsewhere, as matron in charge of the nursing staff. Quite a few Clades had been wounded in the fall of the ship. Alice presided, with Brad beside her. Seated at the table, dispersed among the Mundans, were Corey, Sloan, Phyllis, Fenham and Wyness. They wore their uniforms, except Phyllis. She had a certain pride that prevented her from becoming a Mundan at once, but she was relaxing, softening. Habits of years were dropping from her, but the Mundans in her case didn't try to hurry the process.

Alice tapped for order, a little self-consciously. "We are going to try to run this," she said, "as a free, open meeting."

"Cut the pretense," said Corey.

"There's no pretense, yet," Alice told him.

"My men are prisoners, those you haven't killed. My ship is a wreck. We are here to be told what you are going to do with us."

"You are here," said Mary quietly, "to help us to decide what we are all going to do."

Rog rose. "He's right, Mary," he said. "This is pretense. We are going to force something on them. Freedom. But I won't make a fine speech, for only those who agreed with me would understand what I was saying. Corey, you're here by courtesy. You've no fight here, because you aren't the duly elected representative of your people. Meantime you'll have to do, you and your officers."