Suddenly he tensed. Something was coming, walking through the ash
beyond the hill. What was it? He strained to see. Figures. Figures
coming slowly along, making their way through the ash.
Coming toward him.
Hendricks crouched quickly, raising his gun. Sweat dripped down into
his eyes. He fought down rising panic, as the figures neared.
The first was a David. The David saw him and increased its pace. The
others hurried behind it. A second David. A third. Three Davids, all
alike, coming toward him silently, without expression, their thin legs
rising and falling. Clutching their teddy bears.
He aimed and fired. The first two Davids dissolved into particles. The
third came on. And the figure behind it. Climbing silently toward him
across the gray ash. A Wounded Soldier, towering over the David. And--
* * * * *
And behind the Wounded Soldier came two Tassos, walking side by side.
Heavy belt, Russian army pants, shirt, long hair. The familiar figure,
as he had seen her only a little while before. Sitting in the pressure
seat of the ship. Two slim, silent figures, both identical.
They were very near. The David bent down suddenly, dropping its teddy
bear. The bear raced across the ground. Automatically, Hendricks'
fingers tightened around the trigger. The bear was gone, dissolved
into mist. The two Tasso Types moved on, expressionless, walking side
by side, through the gray ash.
When they were almost to him, Hendricks raised the pistol waist high
and fired.
The two Tassos dissolved. But already a new group was starting up the
rise, five or six Tassos, all identical, a line of them coming rapidly
toward him.
And he had given her the ship and the signal code. Because of him she
was on her way to the moon, to the Moon Base. He had made it possible.
He had been right about the bomb, after all. It had been designed with
knowledge of the other types, the David Type and the Wounded Soldier
Type. And the Klaus Type. Not designed by human beings. It had been
designed by one of the underground factories, apart from all human
contact.
The line of Tassos came up to him. Hendricks braced himself, watching
them calmly. The familiar face, the belt, the heavy shirt, the bomb
carefully in place.