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
