by Hal Annas
The day was one of feverish excitement and at every opportunity fearful eyes turned toward the blue and seemingly placid heavens.
Calculations of when the first blow would come were checked and rechecked. It was expected soon after evening twilight.
News of expressions of confidence among the Upper Councils of the peoples of the planet were bulletined to still unrest. The Orientals could put aloft better than ten thousand ships in the last hours. The Europeans could do about the same. The Africans had a new ship not intended for service until further tests had been made, but which would be used to meet the emergency. North and South America had more ships than crews, and Arabian boys were being sent to man them.
Sue couldn’t understand how her mother could take the news so calmly.
“I’ve lived through strikes before,” she explained. “Besides, your father always comes home to make sure I’m all right afterwards.”
AS the sun went down and the first twilight appeared, streamers of fire became visible in the sky above. They crossed and recrossed, endlessly, numbering tens of thousands, and resembled falling meteors.
“I’ve never seen so many at one time,” Sue’s mother said.
“What are they?” Sue asked.
“Our ships, of course. From every part of the globe. They’ll circle the planet constantly. They are the final inner ring. Under them is nothing but the ground defenses.”
“Are there more ships farther out?”
“Certainly. Those up there are comparable to the Fourth Sector on a cosmograph. Sectors Three, Two and One will extend out beyond Pluto’s orbit. They are probably fighting now. Listen! There’s the warning. We must go to the shafts.”
At that moment Alfred Wilson appeared. She understood that he had come to say goodby to his mother. He came straight toward her, and then she realized she was alone. Her mother, with an understanding smile, was already on the way to the shaft.
Sue thought that he had never looked so tall, so strong, so confident. She was certain he had his orders to go out.
He stood before her. His jaw was set, his expression grim. Then his lips parted and he spoke very softly:
“Don’t take any worries with you down in the ground,” he said. “We’ll never let them get a foothold on Earth.” He paused. “Sue, don’t think about me, don’t think about love, don’t think about anything—but just one kiss.”
She clung to him, giving of her lips, of every thought, of every heartbeat. It seemed to her that it was the least she could do. In another hour he would be out there between her and the Zeehites.
The second warning sounded. She ignored it, still willing to give, to sacrifice herself if necessary, but he unclasped her hands and brought her arms from about him.
He looked once more into her eyes and then hurried toward the groundcar, walking very straight. He didn’t look back and at last she turned and ran to the shaft.
THE trip down required nearly ten minutes. The deceleration began long before the car stopped. She knew that her mother, and other older women, wouldn’t be sent down this far, but that children would go much farther.
She hoped she would be put off at a level where there was machinery, where she could work, where there would be something to do to keep her mind off the coming terror.
As she came out of the car in a huge padded vault she was given a container of liquid and told to drink it quickly. Somebody whispered that it was to make them immune to what would otherwise be unbearable pain.
A speaker amplified a voice from the surface. “Girls above the hundred and fiftieth level should lie down or sit down,” the voice said. “At lower levels it is safe to stand or walk about as you choose. Those on the upper levels will please get into their shock suits. And please be calm. We’ll keep you informed of events as long as possible.
“The Supreme Council has authorized me to say this: that the strike is going to be unimaginably heavy, but never has Earth been better prepared to withstand one. Each of you has given of your labors to make this preparation. You are each one a part of our combined effort at this crucial moment. Take heart. Remain calm.”
Broken sobs came from behind her. Sue turned and saw that they were coming from a girl who couldn’t possibly be more than fifteen and didn’t belong on this level. An older girl led her away.
Sue thought of Darth Brady, but his image wouldn’t stay in her mind. The blue eyes and blond hair of Alfred Wilson were there before her. She imagined him manning a ray-weapon in a ship above Earth’s atmosphere. And then memory of the returned men of Ida Bella, Nucleus, Trilogy and Firelance sent a tremoring wave of nausea through her.
The speaker blared, “You have a few minutes. Choose your places and lie down or sit down. Remain calm.”
A girl nearby muttered. “How do they know for certain? They figured early today exactly when the strike would come. And yet our ships were out there to stop it. How did they know our ships wouldn’t stop it?”
A calmer voice said, “Maybe our ships purposely let them through. It may be part of one vast operation. I’ve heard older people say that something like it happened years ago. They let a whole fleet through and then trapped it between Sectors Three and Two. It was Earth’s first big victory.”
“But this time they’ve broken through Sector Four. They can’t reach Earth until they’re past Sector Four.”
“It may be part of an even bigger operation.”
“But why let them strike Earth? Don’t they care about us?”
“Oh, hush! I have two brothers out there. I’d hate for them to learn girls didn’t have confidence in them.”
“Attention!” the speaker called. “In forty-five seconds the ground defense will-be zeroed in. Please do not get panicky when the earth begins to shake. Lie down or sit down and draw your knees up against your chest. There may be pressure waves. Use your ear-protectors and keep your mouths open. Remain calm.”
Silence settled, to be broken by deep breathing, then Sue heard the restrained voices: “God, grant that we shall continue to possess life—”
The earth shuddered first one way and then the other. It rocked back and forth; it rose and fell.
Sue felt the blood hammering through her temples. The muscles in her body strained to hold her knees against her chest. She heard screaming, knew that some of it was coming from her own lungs.
The earth rocked.
Sue felt that she could not possibly endure it longer. She was flung this way and that, bounced as a rubber ball. It went on and on. The girls about her seemed dazed, stricken.
The speaker ordered. “Prepare for pressure within ten seconds.”
The earth rocked and then came a jolt that made all the preceding seem as nothing. It came again and again. And then the pressure.
She couldn’t breathe. She knew this couldn’t go on. It was more than a mortal could endure. Vaguely she wondered how anyone on the surface could possibly be alive. It was unimaginably horrible down here; it could be nothing less than an inferno of death above.
Merciful darkness came down.
THE sheets on the bed were white and crisp and cool. Several moments passed before she understood. She had never been here before. Through the huge windows came bright sunlight. Far out beyond, the ground was covered with snow.
Sue sat up abruptly. A nurse came, lifted back the sheet, checked the identification number tattooed on her hip. “Susan Wildress? Factory Eight Hundred Ninety-six?”
Sue nodded. “My mother?”
“Just a moment.” The nurse went away and came back with a memorandum. “Betty Wildress is listed as age thirty-six. That would put her on the eightieth level. None survived above the hundred and seventeenth.”
Sue buried her face in the pillow. She had held back the tears so long that now they would not come. She thought of her father and turned again to the nurse.
“Craig Wildress?” the nurse said. “Logistics? Just a moment.” She checked through records. “He was here two days ago,
stayed by your side. He received a high priority message, had to leave. He left word for you that he would be on Mars for some time.”
“Alfred Wilson?”
“Your betrothed or kin?”
Sue shook her head. “An instructor at the Center. He went out the night of the strike.”
“There are many Centers. Many went out that night and not so many came back. You will have to inquire of the Council.”
“This place? Where am I?”
“Recovery Fourteen Hundred One.”
“Is it near—?”
“Site of Factory Eight Ninety-six? Yes. About a hundred and twenty miles east. You must rest now. Girls from devastated areas are to go to factories in the East. You must regain your strength quickly.”
From the local Council she learned only that the full extent of the losses would not be known for weeks. Fighting had been intense between Earth and the orbit of Mars and there was still some confusion. It appeared that Mars, the Moons of Jupiter and the stations beyond Saturn’s orbit had suffered heavily. The brunt of the strike, she was told, had been absorbed inside the orbit of Mars, and Earth and its satellite escaped what might have been fatal blows.
That was as much as the Council could tell her. No one should expect them, they explained, not without sympathy, to halt assessments and try to learn what had happened to one man in a cosmic operation.
They denied her permission to return to the site of former Factory Eight Ninety-six. They pointed out that such excursions were morale-shattering and that she was needed immediately in the East. Production had to be increased in preparation for further strikes.
They did permit her to view the site on a screen. And then she was sorry. Where the factory, the dormitory, the cedars, the vale, the wood had been was now a crater twice as large as the lake.
As she studied the scene, an uncontrollable surging rose in her breast. At last tears came. She hardly remembered going out to the atmosphere craft that was to take her to the eastern factory.
The craft was jampacked with girls and older women. Their talk was puzzling.
“Do they lose their spirit out in the void?”
“Maybe it’s that stuff shot into them at the Centers.”
“But that stuff makes them stronger. Besides, it isn’t their strength. Maybe it’s us. Maybe we have some hidden psychological reason not to bring more children into existence.”
“When I was growing up,” said an older woman, “boys and girls were expected to fall in love. Now they discourage it. You can’t expect the laws of nature—”
“But that,” another pointed out, “is to prevent heartbreak. When a girl is madly in love and the boy goes out and doesn’t come back or comes back gray and wrinkled and broken—”
“It isn’t our problem,” somebody said peevishly.
“If bearing children isn’t our problem, whose is it?”
“I meant fertility.”
Sue hoped that it was just girl talk, and tried to dismiss it, but half-formed thoughts stirred restlessly and plucked at the strings of some dormant longing inherent in her sex. With the others she wondered.
The new factory differed from the old, and it was several days before she became adept at operating the improved machines. The Center was closer and work was going on to merge the two dining halls.
Word spread that romance might no longer be discouraged. This made her wonder more.
ON the first day of spring a thin blonde girl at the next machine fell unconscious. As Sue rushed to help her, she saw the two ribbons clutched in the thin hand. A chunky brunette whispered, “Her husband’s posthumous award. She got them last night, probably didn’t sleep.”
Work on the dining halls was finally finished. When young men milled into the vast room the girls were silent and shy. The boys likewise. It was the first time many of them had ever eaten in the presence of the other sex.
The shyness wore off and they mingled. It was then that Sue learned that men were fed differently. They got more meat and heaping portions of vegetables. She no longer wondered why they grew so big and strong.
The men stared at what the girls were eating and seemed to lose their appetites. Finally one offered to share with a girl and then others, all over the room. For the first time Sue tasted beef.
Then a rule was posted that food was not to be shared. The men ignored it, but the girls, fearing both for themselves and the men, stopped sharing.
Word spread that the men had complained to the Council and that something was to be done. Days went by and the men grew irritable. One day the men, looking grim and determined, got their plates and each sat at a table with a girl. When the meal was over they marched out, and not a man had touched his food.
The instructors at the Center declared an emergency, issued orders superseding the local Council that the same food was to be given both workers and trainees. They justified it on the grounds that it was to sustain morale.
Men were allowed in the dorm two hours a day. Sue took the opportunity to ask one how ships were able to traverse vast distances in comparably brief time. His explanation was incomprehensible. Finally he paused, studied her wondering features.
“Oh, I see!” he said. “You girls don’t take much math. Think of it this way. Time is a concept of motion in relation to motion. Picture a motionless planet in a void. There is no motion on the planet or off it. Without motion, plus a concept, there can be no time. Now give the planet motion. Nothing else but the planet is moving in that void. There is nothing to which it is relative. So it can move billions of miles in time zero. Am I making it clear?”
She nodded. She hadn’t begun to grasp it, but knew that she would in time.
“So actually we effect a displacement,” he went on. “It is something like moving into another dimension, but it isn’t precisely that. In reality it is a different kind of motion from motion as we know it ordinarily. But here comes the dorm mother to send us back to the Center. Tell you more next time.”
SHE tried time and again to get news of Alfred Wilson, but didn’t know what ship he was on and couldn’t learn even what Sector he might be in.
All of the sectors now were between Earth and the nearest stars and news of the fighting came more often. There was talk that Sector Four might pull back within the Solar System, and its vast chain of defenses, and thus release thousands of ships to build Sector One back up to strength.
News from her father came indirectly. A Tibetan sent word from halfway around the planet that he had worked with her father on Mars and promised to bring a message to her. He was in good health and thought of her daily. He was leaving for the vicinity of Jupiter and from there would go to the stations beyond Saturn. He hoped to see her before winter and bade her be of good spirit and firm faith that the big job would soon be done.
Early in June one of the girls on the overlapping shift told her that a man in uniform had asked for her. She couldn’t imagine who it might be, for the men she knew at the Center were aware of her hours and would look for her in the dining hall.
Crossing the distance to the hall, she studied the tall man in the worn uniform who stood near the entrance. The hair at his temples was gray and he wore a single ribbon tied at his throat. As she drew near, she saw the light of long and terrible experience in his eyes.
For a moment she could hardly stand. Black spots came before her eyes and the world seemed to spin beneath her. Then she knew she was rushing to him.
A minute passed before he spoke.
“I’ve had a devil of a time finding you. Searched half the continent.”
“Al,” she breathed and couldn’t say any more.
Lunch was forgotten. She wouldn’t have returned to work if he had not insisted.
That evening he ate with her in the dining hall and afterwards led her out to a groundcar. In the car they rose above the factory and up through a snowbank cloud. When they broke clear and could see Luna at thirty degrees in the southeast and Venus sparkling like a jew
el in the west, he set the robot controls to hold the car motionless.
After a long moment of gazing at her he said, “I. thought of you a lot up there.” He pointed toward Saturn. “Long hours of waiting for orders to move to counter some other move. The realization of the vastness, the inconceivable immensity, of space, and how tiny and feeble man is. It made me wonder why the breath of life had been breathed into my body, and I thought of you, and I think it made me understand that our Creator intends for life to go on and upward, and because of that He endowed us with love.”
She moved closer to him, but he remained silent so long that she felt a need to bridge across. She said, “Tell me about the night of the strike.”
Lines of pain came into his features. “Don’t ask me about that, Sue. So many of the boys I had trained died that night.”
“Oh!”
There was a longer silence. At last his arm came about her. Moments passed and then she understood that no bridge would ever be needed. Words were no longer necessary. She no longer tried to guard her own thoughts.
And when he asked the question it brought no new excitement. She had known that he would ask it, and gave the answer with her lips against his.
“And the date?” he said.
She counted on her fingers. “My birthday comes on the fifteenth. I’ll be eighteen. Is it too long? Girls eighteen get special training to prepare them for marriage.”
“I can’t imagine what sort of training,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think you need it. Nobody taught you to kiss like that. I’ve a hunch you have some special aptitude for being a wife. But if your heart is set on waiting—”
“It won’t be long. Let’s set the date for the twenty-fifth of June.”
“It’s pretty long for an old spaceman, but maybe I can hold out if I can see you often enough.”
“Every evening—”
Sue hardly slept that night. At first she planned not to mention it, but the excitement of keeping it to herself was too much. She told her roommate.
