At the car, he found his driver asleep. He did not wake him. He took
the communicator from the box of supplies in the trunk and turned it on.
Headquarters was monitoring Ramsey's channel around the clock, and the general himself must have been waiting at the operator's elbow. Ramsey heard his voice almost the moment he asked for him.
"Yes?" General Bargh responded.
"No," Ramsey said. "Total failure. Worse than total. Will Rees, who is
Mill's brother, and a friend of his, an East mutant, are going to stop the war
at noon tomorrow by stopping all war machines among both Easts and Wests.
There's nothing more I can do. There's nothing anyone can do except hope that they are able to distinguish between military and non-military uses. If you pick a committee of expert negotiators and start it here at once, perhaps it can explain to Will what will happen. Otherwise, this could mean an end to civilization and a lot of other things."
"Will Rees is going to stop the war?"
"That's what I said. He and an East mutant."
"No one is going to stop the war. Get clear of the town as quickly as
you can. We'll nuke it."
"That won't work. The East mutant can stop our machines as well as the
East machines, and we have no idea where she is."
"Of course it'll work. We'll notify the Easts so they can search her out
and take appropriate action."
"Wait!" the appalled Ramsey exclaimed. "I failed miserably, but at least
I didn't goof things up as badly as you're about to. You don't understand.
What they intend--"
"I know very well what they intend. The dead mutant gave us a
demonstration, didn't he? They intend to make our planes crash, and sink our ships, and disable our armor--all our vehicles--and probably they can keep our artillery from firing and give the infantry cholera. I have no confidence whatsoever in their pious intention to direct their power only at military machines. This is a direct and deadly threat, not only to our war effort but to our entire population, and I have authority to take immediate action against it. I'll give you two--make it three--hours to get clear of the
fallout zone. Start for home at once."
Ramsey continued to protest, but the general's mind was already evolving
plans and timetables. "Get clear of the area," he said. "We've got to move
fast on this."
His signal cut off abruptly.
Ramsey awoke the driver. "Head for home as fast as possible," he
said. "A very strange war is about to begin. If you're wise, you'll pick a
peaceful-looking country town a long, long way from here and try to wait it
out there."
"Aren't you coming?"
Ramsey shook his head. He had so little time left that it didn't matter
how he died or where. He wanted to see what would happen. He waved the
driver on his way. Then he walked slowly back toward the village.
Will, Velna, and Melna were still in discussion where he had left them.
Suddenly gasping for breath, Ramsey staggered into their presence and was
caught by Will as he collapsed. The three helped him into a chair, and Melna
brought a glass of something that was considerably stronger than the wine she had served him earlier. He took a sip and straightened up, sputtering.
"Drink slowly," Will suggested.
Ramsey sipped again. "No one," he announced, "could drink that stuff any
way but slowly. I need to talk with you."
He talked, first describing the chaos of a technological civilization
with its machines stopped and then detailing the horrible fate that the
town--indeed, the entire area--would suffer three hours hence. "A little more than two hours, now," he added. "I don't know whether you possess the means of moving everyone in the community out of the danger area in that short time. If you do, you'd better start at once."
"It is kind of you to remain in the danger area yourself just to warn
us," Will observed.
"I'm dying anyway. I don't matter."
"Everyone matters," Will said. "Unfortunately, your general doesn't
think so. But we were expecting this, or something like it, and we are
prepared."
"Your East friend--"
"She is expecting it also if they succeed in identifying her. Now--Melna
is going to put you back to bed. You need rest. Don't worry about the
nuclear warheads. They'll be taken care of."
They put him to bed in the same bed he had occupied before, and--he
really was exhausted--he fell asleep at once. Some time later he woke with a start and looked at his watch. No doubt Will's powers were remarkable, but no power except another nuclear rocket could make these warheads swerve from their programmed destination. Armageddon was no more than a half-hour away.
He got up, slipped into his shoes, and opened the door of his room. The
house was in darkness; there was no sign of anyone anywhere. Going to the
outside door, he looked out at a silent town. In a few houses lights had
been left on, but there were no inhabitants about. As far as Ramsey could
see, it was a deserted town. Perhaps Will had thought better of it and
decided to move the people to safety.
He walked slowly along the town's main street--still seeing no one--and
into the country, looking for a comfortable place where he could observe and also where he could die. He found an embankment near the road, settled himself on it, and watched the luminous dial of his watch.
The first rocket arrived right on schedule, the triple flames of its
engines vivid against the night sky. It dived directly on the town. Then,
abruptly, its descent was slowed, its course altered slightly, and it floated
downward as if being lowered by a celestial rope. Ramsey scrambled to his
feet in astonishment and watched. The rocket settled gently onto two railway flat cars that were parked on a siding near the salvage sheds. Ramsey continued to stare and saw a diesel locomotive edge up to the flat cars, couple with a blast of air, and haul them away.
A second rocket received the same treatment. And a third. And a fourth.
Then the show stopped--no doubt the general's instruments told him something was going wrong with his rockets--and, after the locomotive vanished into the night towing the fourth rocket, silence ensued.
Ramsey's latest exertion had been too much for him; his pulse was racing,
his breath came in short gasps and was bringing him very little oxygen.
Despite this, he suddenly burst into laughter. His one regret was that he
would have no opportunity to revise and expand the paper he had written so
many years ago about mutants. There was much he would have liked to add.
Mutants were neither paragons nor blackguards. They had strengths and
weaknesses just like other humans, which was evident enough when the first
mutant they encountered turned out to be an alcoholic. A mutant could develop perfectly normal interests and biases. Will's interest was business, and he concentrated on it as intently as General Bargh concentrated on war.
The Fronville area was a business community with a mutant as its most
valuable asset. The residents were also scavengers because scavenging was a necessary adjunct to their business. Ramsey added an afterthought: Like all good business people, they were opportunists. Will and his East friend
ignored the war as long as it didn't interfere with their businesses. Once
they fully understood its potential for disrupting business, they determined
to stop it.
But evil as war was, they weren't above turning a profit on it, and there
was a huge amount of
salvageable material in a nuclear rocket. If the Wests
persisted in sending the Fronville Cooperative Association all of that
valuable material free of cost, with no charge for delivery, Will and his
colleagues weren't going to turn it down.
Ramsey weakly sank back onto his comfortable embankment and suddenly burst into another convulsion of laughter. In a year or two, or maybe even a few weeks, some of those mills would be nuclear powered, thanks to the salvaged rockets.
He tried to laugh again, but he felt so queasy he was unable to.
Nuclear power--in Fronville. His last regret was that he would not be
there to see it.
END
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