The Greatest Science Fiction Works of Philip K. Dick. Филип Дик
Читать онлайн книгу.
“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?”
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.”