Oberheim (Voices) Part 41

His broken mouth produced a strange, pitiful utterance, as an unbearable anguish of hope came over him.

As the last Alliance vessels retreated, or were caught and subdued by the tractor beams of the Leningrad, Brunner's thoughts returned quickly to the planet below. Though his battle fury was still running hot---his own vessel was badly damaged, and there were wounded to look after---his mind would think of nothing else. He started to a.s.sign damage and medical crews, but found the work was already being done.

And their primary mission was, in fact, the release and rescue of the prisoners.

But with the main bridge knocked out and the lower malfunctioning, he could gather no news of the inhabitants of the prison-domes on the planet's surface. "Getting very confused readings," his scanning officer told him.

"Signs of life?" A momentary panic.

"Yes, Lieutenant, but they cannot be right."

"Why?"

"Well, sir, Intelligence reports over two million inhabitants were s.h.i.+pped here, and the internal structures are certainly large enough to house that number. But I register less than two hundred life-forms."

"WHAT?"

"It's got to be the equipment, sir: they don't even register as human.

The calcium content is much too high." Even as he spoke the console went dead with a smell of burned fiber and sparks.

"Communications Officer." He could not remember her name. "Have you contacted Colonel Joyce?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. The viewscreens are out, but we still have audio."

"Very well. Put me through."

She handed him a headset.

"Colonel Joyce. Brunner. Do you still intend to call for Soviet reinforcements?"

"They are on the way."

"Will they be here soon enough to secure the area?"

"Yes."

"And will you provide transports for the prisoners?"

"That will not..... One thing at a time, Olaf."

"What do you mean? Those people have been separated from their families for months. What the h.e.l.l are you waiting for?"

... "Is your scanning equipment working?"

"No, the upper bridge was destroyed. That's why I contacted you."

"And Mandlik?"

"Dead."

"You have a.s.sumed command?"

"Yes."

"Then I think you should organize a landing party and come to the Leningrad. Have you an operational shuttle?" Brunner turned to one of his officers, who nodded.

"Yes. For G.o.d's sake, what is happening?"

"I will tell you when you come."

"Sergei. My wife....."

"Not like this. Gather your party and come."

Brunner ordered the landing party a.s.sembled, and met it at the shuttle dock. Among those he found there was the nurse, the only medical persona that could be spared, whom he had been so aware of two days before. He tried not to look at her. With a knotting throat and a rising anxiety he could not contain, he guided the s.h.i.+p himself into the open receiving dock of the Leningrad.

One other shuttle craft entered behind them, landing also on the dull white metal floor, but no more. The bay doors were closed slowly and the dock began to repressurize. But in his drunken state the very sound of it was like her name hissed by witches.

As a double-line of Soviet personnel---in breathing suits and armed---emerged from an opened pa.s.sage and made their way to the two large landing vessels, one of them a hospital s.h.i.+p, he opened the hatch of his own vehicle and moved weakly down the steps.

Colonel Joyce approached him with another, as if for support. Brunner recognized him from an earlier visit---Chief Scientist Stoltzyn. He had no patience left.

"Why only two Coalition parties? Didn't you contact the other s.h.i.+ps?"

"Two will be enough. . .to represent your peoples."

"Represent? What the h.e.l.l IS GOING ON?" Some of the Soviet technicians within the enclosure---there were perhaps two dozen, wheeling in odd gear, among its contents special breathing masks for the Czechs---looked over in surprise to hear a Soviet Colonel addressed in this way.

But none were more taken back than Joyce himself. He seemed unable to look Brunner in the eye or speak the words he had to speak, a thing which he had never experienced. Finally it was Stoltzyn who spoke.

"There's been some kind of plague."

Brunner felt his heart heave, then fall in upon itself like collapsing leprous flesh. His voice a fainting whisper.

"What? Sergei?"

Joyce finally master himself and spoke, though slowly. "Of the two million inhabitants, perhaps two hundred still live. Five of the six domes are emptied of life. You will be going to the sixth. But I. .

.want you to be prepared."

"Tell me."

Joyce strode back and forth a few times, irritated, agitated, then faced Brunner almost angrily.

"Stoltzyn will tell you the rest. I am sorry, Olaf. I can say no more." He turned and left the enclosure.