[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
September 1953
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Susan Wildress knew that what she was about to do might mean death.
She stopped eating and stared at the ration of ground cedar bark,
rabbit, and a hydroponic which tasted like eggplant. She pushed back
her plate and glanced around at the tense girl faces in the huge dining
hall. She lifted a small strong hand and ran it inside her sweater. She
brought out a locket, snapped it open.
The flesh grew tight around her dark brown eyes and in her olive
cheeks. The memory was still as clear as the day it happened. Three
years. She was just fourteen, sitting in the groundcar and watching the
preparations which were always dramatic.
Darth Brady had lied about his age. He was supposed to be nineteen but
was just past seventeen. She had known and so had everyone else, but
the Centers needed boys, needed them desperately.
She remembered how her face got wet as she watched him go out to the
ship. He looked very tall and broad and strong, a man. His jaw was
firm and his features grim. He looked toward her but didn't wave, for,
since she could first remember, there had been a stringent rule against
making close ties with boys at the Centers.
Replacing the locket, she rose and walked casually to the exit. She
glanced right and left, hurried to the entrance to the factory, reached
down her time card and punched in. Then she hurried back across the
space to the dining hall, around behind it and on out to the rows of
cedar trees.
The penalty, she knew, might be endless restriction, even death, but
she didn't hesitate. With trees concealing her movements, she hurried
along to the dormitory groundcar ramps. She went more cautiously now.
A moment later she heard masculine voices and a shiver ran down her
spine. It was not the voices themselves, but the words they used.
_Zeehites._ She had heard the term many times, never without a shudder.
Men could be put to death for discussing the Zeehites around women or
children.
Moving quickly, she slipped between two cars, slid into the control
seat of one. With infinite care she backed it out, rolled it as quietly
as possible a hundred yards before setting in motion the vanes that
would lift it. She brought it down again in a clearing in the wood at
the edge of the heat-blackened plain.
For a time she remained undecided. A score of ships were out on the
plain. She had seen from the air scores of others on other plains.
Nowhere had she seen one bristling with full armament and scars of
battle to indicate it to be the _Ida Bella_, _Nucleus_, _Trilogy_ or
_Firelance_.
* * * * *
She thought of binding her dark wavy hair tight against her head. The
thought, she knew, was idle. Nowhere on the planet could she pass as a
man, dressed as she was in denims and sweater. Young men wore purple
uniforms; those in logistics wore brown.
Dismissing caution, she walked rapidly toward the buildings of the
Center. And now she became very careful of her thoughts. She knew that
youths developed remarkably at the Centers. They had to if they were
to survive out among the stars in that long chain of ships stretched
across the course of the Zeehites. The boys were said to be telepathic.
She didn't know for sure. She knew only that girls had to be careful
of their thoughts around boys.
Pausing between two buildings, she glanced apprehensively at the open
compound. Nothing stirred there but she had the eerie feeling that eyes
were on her. It was too late to turn back. She started across to the
main building.
Young men in purple uniforms materialized from every direction. They
neither laughed nor talked; moved with hardly a sound. They completely
surrounded her, pressed close. They were tall and broad and she could
not see beyond them.
Susan trembled. She started to run, to break out of the circle, but
powerful and yet gentle hands restrained her.
"It's a girl from the factory," one said. "Make it casual. Don't crowd.
We'll have to get her out of here."
A brief order was snapped. The men moved as one. At the center of the
group she was carried along. She knew when they entered a building, but
uttered no sound. The men fell back. She waited, trembling.
"Girl," said one, "do you know you could be put to death for coming
here?"
Susan stopped trembling, held herself rigid. Long ago she had learned
not to cry. There was no excuse for breaking a rule. Her mother had
once told her that things had not always been this way; that if
everyone worked hard enough things would soon be again as they were in
that bright and free past. To break a single rule was to commit a crime
against everyone on the planet and delay that bright future. She waited.
"You're working dayshift in the factory?"
She nodded.
"How many hours??"
"Twelve."
"If you want to make a complaint you have to take it to the Council."
A man who looked older than the others advanced. On his shoulder was
the emblem of the crossed pens, indicating he was an instructor. He
glared around at the others. "You know better," he said, "than to sneak
a girl in here."
Somebody chuckled. "She was on the compound. Did you want her to be
discovered and maybe get permanent restriction? We'll get her out safe
somehow."
The instructor turned back to Susan. "You'll have to keep mum at the
factory," he warned. "A single word and you'll have the Council on our
necks."
"But I have to find someone," she said. "From _Firelance_."
"Oh!" Glum looks spread.
"His name is Darth Brady," she went on quickly. "He trained here. He
went out three years ago."
"Darth Brady!" somebody said. "That gibbering cripple--"
"Quiet!" ordered the instructor. "The next man that mentions a
forbidden subject will go before the Council." He turned back to Susan.
"We must get you back to your place."
"But I have to find Darth Brady."
The men turned away, shook their heads. Susan felt a cold numbness
growing in her body and limbs.
"You, Carson," the instructor ordered, "get passes for yourself,
Merritt and Saxon. I'll issue the order via wrist communicator. Get two
groundcars. Wait in them outside the compound. You others form a ring
about this girl. What's your name, girl?"
"Susan Wildress. My identification number is on the back of my sweater."
"I'm Alfred Wilson. The boys will walk out to the groundcars. You walk
in the midst of them and try to look like a boy. Get in the first car
and stay out of sight."
* * * * *
On the way Sue had an opportunity to study the boys. Most of them were
younger than her seventeen years. For their age they were unusually
tall and broad. Few were under six feet. Their purple uniforms were
emblazoned with a single splash of white in the center of the back, in
the shape of a burning sun.
She slid into the car, remained quiet. Alfred Wilson got in beside her.
A moment later the car rose gently, accompanied by another off to port.
Sue pointed to the wood and explained that her car was there. Wilson
spoke into his communicator and the other car descended in that
direction.
"They'll return it to the dormitory," he said. "My job is to get you
back without creating an emergency."
"Why are you doing it?" Sue asked. "Why don't you turn me over to the
Council?"
Wilson set the robot controls and turned to face her. "Nobody wants to
punish you girls," he said softly. "Members of the Council least of
all. But they have to maintain discipline. It's the only way we can get
the big job done."
She understood. She had heard it all a thousand times before. No one's
feelings, nothing, neither life nor death, must be allowed to halt or
hinder the big job, the job that was to bring that bright future.
"Can you tell me anything about Darth Brady?" she said.
"I can tell you only that he wears two ribbons and three stars."
"Two ribbons?" Sue gasped. "Is he dead?"
"No." Wilson's voice was deep, controlled with effort. "No. Darth Brady
isn't dead. But, Sue, you must not think about him. You know the rules."
The tight knot in Sue's breast worked up into her throat. She blinked
rapidly and squeezed the flesh around her eyes to keep the moisture
back. "I know the rules," she said.
Wilson tuned the communicator to the factory. "Tube department
foreman," he said, but didn't cut in the viewplate. "Al Wilson, from
the Center," he went on. "Sure, Mom, I'm fine. I've borrowed one of
your girls. Don't let it get talked about. Will have her back soon."
"Your mother?" Sue asked.
"Yep! A fine girl. She works fifteen hours a day and still finds time
to keep records for the Council."
"I thought Mrs. Wilson's boy had gone out. When I was eleven I heard
her say he'd already entered the Center. That's six years ago."
Wilson's features clouded. "They won't let me go. Made me an
instructor. If the chain breaks--But that isn't a subject to discuss
with a girl. Look below. That lake! Know what made it?"
"A strike. My mother said it came before I was born. She said we'd been
lucky; that the planet has been struck thousands of times; that the
moon and Mars have taken an awful beating."
"We set up decoys," Wilson explained. "They draw the strikes when a
break-through comes. But sometimes a factory gets knocked out."
"I know." Sue nodded. "We know what to do. We've drilled over and over.
And most of the factory is under ground."
"Part of it, the brick part, was once a school. I went to school there
eight terms before I entered the Center."
"And I went three terms. That's when they converted it and we had to
study in the dorm. Kids study in the nurseries now."
"How long have you been working in the factory?"
"Since I was nine. Only had to work four hours a day then. Now children
begin work at eight."
"How many hours does your mother work?"
"Fifteen."
"And when you're eighteen years old you'll go on a fifteen-hour shift?"
"Of course. But I'll have three days vacation when I get married."
"Did you know the Center is taking boys thirteen now and next year will
begin calling them at the age of twelve?"
"All the girls know about it. The boys are glad to get out of the
factories. They talk about nothing else. And they say the age to go out
is going to be lowered to eighteen and maybe seventeen."
"Yes. We're learning better and faster ways to make men out of kids.
And the numbers in the crews are being cut down. The ships are better.
One man now can perform all the operations three did a few years ago."
"The training? Is it very hard?"
"No. It's just necessary. We know we have to learn and develop in order
to survive. It's just like growing up."
* * * * *
Sue hesitated. "Is it true--" She paused again, cheeks coloring. "It is
true that you can read a girl's thoughts?"
Wilson grinned. "Don't worry about it. Those things have been
exaggerated. We get flashes under certain conditions. If your emotions
were in perfect accord with your thoughts, as ours are supposed to be,
we'd know what you're thinking. It's our one superiority over the--"
He halted, clamped his lips tight. Sue knew he had been about to say,
"Zeehites."
"We don't really read your thoughts," he went on. "If it was necessary,
and we concentrated very hard, we probably could do it."
"Try just once to get the picture I've got in my mind."
"That's easy, but you shouldn't have thoughts like that."
She blushed crimson. Now she was positive. She had held an image in
mind of his features, and he had known, known especially that her
thoughts were of him. Confusion and discomfort settled over her. She
tried to get her mind on work, but the thought wouldn't come. Darth
Brady's image, as in the locket, appeared before her. And she was
certain that that, too, was known to Wilson. She was hardly aware of
what he said from then until the car landed.
Other girls watched her enviously, and yet with trepidation, as
she returned to her machine. At every pause in the work they asked
questions. "How did you get out?" "Where did you go?" "Will you have to
appear before the Council?"
She hated to be cattish, but she couldn't confide in them. She invented
a story which was reluctantly accepted. She said she had suddenly
become ill and gone to the dorm.
The day wore on. After supper she visited her mother in the older
women's dorm. She didn't stay long because Mrs. Wilson studied her with
too much interest.
But she had asked, "What do two ribbons and three stars mean," and her
mother had replied, "The first ribbon is for courage and conduct beyond
the call of duty. The second is generally a posthumous award. If the
wearer is alive, it means he has done something wonderful indeed. The
stars, of course, denote the number of years he has spent in the void."
"Any word from Dad?"
"No. Communication channels are overloaded. He wouldn't ask for a
priority unless it was an emergency. I think he's setting up a plant
near those new mines on the Gold Coast. Then he'll have to go to Mars.
They're crying for logistic experts. I'm hoping he can spend a few
hours with us, though."
"How about uncle Bob and uncle George?"
"Sue, I was hoping you wouldn't ask that. George has been moved out of
the Fourth Sector. You know what that means? His ship will be in the
midst of the fighting. And Bob's ship hasn't been reported in months.
They were operating in Sector One. It's out near the rim of the galaxy,
but has been drawn back billions of miles in months. The losses in the
withdrawal were terrible. All I can learn is that the full extent of
the losses won't be known for weeks."
"Why do our ships keep on pulling back? We always lose so heavily at
those times. Cousin Breckenridge gone; Cousin Allison came back a
wrecked old man at the age of twenty; dozens of boys I used to know,
broken or dead. And now uncle Bob."
"Hush, Sue. The final word hasn't come yet."
"But it will. And then it will be uncle George. And the Supreme Council
keeps calling for more ships, better armament, and, above all, more
men. Did you know they're lowering the age at the Center?"
"Those things are necessary, Sue. They mean survival. We're not
supposed to talk about them. And we're supposed to go to bed earlier
because food rations are to be cut again and we must conserve our
strength."
* * * * *
Returning to her section of the dorm, she passed a knot of girls
whispering in the corridor. She caught the words "_Ida Bella_" and
"_Trilogy_." Then "_Old men. They look ninety and most are crippled.
And not a one is over twenty-two._"
Hurrying, to keep pace with her heart, she went on to her room. As she
slipped out of sweater, denims and briefs, she thought, "Darth Brady
was on _Firelance_. Maybe! Maybe--" She knew she was not supposed to
hope, neither despair. Nothing that happened must halt or hinder.
The stars beyond the window were bright and close. She thought she
could see the rings of blue with white dots in their centers which were
said to be visible through a powerful telescope when the fighting was
intense.
Next day she applied for an issue of clothes. The elderly woman smiled
and shook her head. "You're very pretty. You wouldn't be beautiful but
you'd certainly be lovely and feminine in a dress. Wish I could issue
you an outfit."
"But I haven't drawn any clothes in over eight months," Sue said. "We
used to get clothes four times a year, then twice. Now--"
"It can't be helped," the woman explained. "They've cut production to
put more labor and machinery in the heavy industries. Even the boys at
the Centers aren't getting as many uniforms as they were. And they'll
get fewer next year."
"Oh!"
"If your denims and sweaters have been damaged--"
"No. I've three of each. They are just worn."
"Then you'll have to make out. The less we have here the more the men
can have when they go out. You understand?"
* * * * *
Sunday she took advantage of the shorter working-day to go with
her mother to the vale between the cultivated rows of cedar and the
woodland. She had come here at every opportunity since she could
remember. It was here she had been taught that there was something
beyond the transient physical life.
Today they walked on through the wood to a point where they could see
the lake which had been made by the strike so many years ago. It was
more than five miles across and was said to be half a mile deep.
Coming back, they saw a number of uniformed men in the vale. They were
gray and wrinkled and some were crippled. She felt her mother's fingers
close tight on her arm, but curiosity wouldn't allow her to stop.
She stared. He was stooped, his face a mass of wrinkles, his hair
snow-white. And he was gibbering. He seemed to recognize no one.
She was suddenly seized with a tremor. A wild raging impulse surged
through her. Blindly and without thought, she ran, heedless of bushes,
briars and stones. She didn't stop until she reached the dormitory. She
fell face down on her bed and dug her nails into her cheeks and into
the flesh about her eyes to make it contract.
Darth Brady was just past twenty, she knew....
Night brought a full silvery moon. She could see it from the window
as it came above the wood, bright and giving no hint of the ships and
activity on its scorched airless surface. Sleep was out of the question.
Slipping into her clothes and with shoes in hand, she swung across the
windowsill and lowered herself to the ground. Like a wraith she moved
among the cedars and on across the vale and into the wood.
The sound of the machinery in the factory behind her faded. The night
was quiet but lustrous with tinted moonlight. It seemed that peace had
come, that nowhere in the universe could there be strife. But as she
looked at the stars and imagined the rings of blue and white dots, she
knew.
Beyond the wood the water in the lake was amber in color, and as she
approached, it flashed an image of the heavens and took on a darker
hue, almost blood red.
She stood on an outcropping and listened to the sounds of crickets and
frogs and thought she heard long sighs like breathing. She thought she
saw something white flash on the surface, then dismissed it, tilted her
head back and breathed deep of the clean night air.
It seemed that she was alone on a tiny planet which brushed against a
bejeweled velvet curtain. She indulged the dream, and when reality
began to force itself upon her again she quickly slipped out of her
clothes and judged the distance to the water below.
For a moment she stood there, arms raised, body poised, the moon
painting her figure a rose pink. Then she dived.
The water was warm, caressing. She came up, tossed her head back to get
the shoulder-length dark hair out of her eyes. And then she was certain
she heard an exclamation.
* * * * *
Panic ran through her as it had earlier in the vale. She twisted and
turned to look in every direction. Then a head bobbed up in front of
her.
"A beautiful dive," he said. It was Al Wilson. "I was about to warn you
and then I couldn't bear to spoil it."
She was treading water, confused, not knowing what to do.
"Do you come here often?" he asked.
"No. But you knew I would come soon. I was thinking about it when we
flew over, and you knew."
"Is it so bad?"
"No. But having you read my thoughts--" She turned swiftly and swam
hard and strong. The panic was in her again. She felt that he was
looking right inside her, noting the quickening of her heart that he
himself brought.
It was impossible to escape. Like all men trained at the Center, he was
superbly muscled and seemed tireless. With ease he kept pace with her,
ignored her confusion, talked on.
In desperation she clung to a rough stone protruding from the bank,
started to climb out, dropped back into the water and fought to hold
back the tears.
He said, "There's an easier place to climb a few yards ahead. I'll go
back the way I came and meet you up on the bank."
Relief came as she watched him swim away, watched the long muscles
ripple on his back and shoulders. But it did not last. In feverish
hurry she climbed out and twisted and squirmed to get into her clothes.
She had hardly got the sweater over her head and her hair brushed back
when he appeared.
"Those clothes don't do you justice," he said.
Confusion came again.
"But the time will soon come," he added, "when our girls can have all
the fine things written about in the old books."
"How can you say that," she asked, "when every report brings news
of another withdrawal, another terrible defeat? We've lost so many
stations among the stars, there can hardly be any left."
He looked down at the weed-grown earth, and she instantly became
contrite. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I'm never supposed to lose
hope."
He studied her eyes until she looked away. His hands found her
shoulders. "Sue, there are forces at work about which you've never even
dreamed. We need time. We need more manpower. We have to go on working.
The only thing that can defeat us ultimately is here on this planet. It
is our morale. As long as it is high we'll keep on sending ships out.
The moment it breaks we are lost."
Sue had noticed the tension and constraint in his voice that she had
come to associate with the talking of men among themselves when they
thought no woman or child was within hearing.
Always they stopped talking when a girl approached, and put on a
cheerful front. She wondered if they knew of some dark terror yet to
be faced, so horrible that it couldn't be confided to their women and
children. Would a knowledge of that dreadful thing, she asked herself,
break the morale on the home planet?
Wilson had changed the subject. He told her about the fine things
he had read in books and heard from older men of that past before
the beginning of the struggle. It reminded her of the fairy tales
she had read as a child. It seemed impossible that a girl could have
fine clothes and a house and a husband and children all her own. She
couldn't grasp it. She felt that she wouldn't know how to live if there
weren't rules to go by. She remembered vaguely when she was very small,
that her mother prepared meals in a big white kitchen, but there was
little reality in the memory.
He accompanied her back to the dorm and on the way talked of things
that stirred forlorn unrest in her body. It was a sense of tingling,
suppressed under memory of Darth Brady.
Lifting her to the windowsill, he pressed his lips against her ear and
whispered, "I've made another request of the Council to send me out."
His arms held her tight enough to stop her trembling. Then he released
her and was gone.
* * * * *
Food became scarcer as summer became fall and fall became winter.
Monkey meat was served twice a week. Hydroponics were the main diet and
the bulk had to be made up of edible leaves and woodfibre.
First news of the big break-through came on Christmas Eve. The bulletin
was not supposed to go up until all in the factory had had an hour
to sing carols or do whatever they wished. But somebody made a
mistake. Under the wreaths of holly on the bulletin board it told in
a few words how Sector One had been breached. It told of withdrawals,
reorganization and shortening of defenses.
On Christmas Day the story was worse. It was not definite as bulletins
usually were, but it gave the information that Sector Two was crumbling.
Two days after Christmas she overheard men talking at the groundcar
ramps. Their voices were tense, restrained. They said that the links
of the chains were snapping and that a strike was sure to come. They
talked hopefully of new weapons, better ships that would swing the
balance of power in favor of Earthmen.
Sue had heard talk of new weapons and ships many times before. They
always seemed to be in the future. She slipped away from the ramps and
volunteered an extra hour's work in the factory.
Next day there was a general increase in hours. Girls under eighteen
went on a fourteen-hour shift. Eighteen to thirty-five, they worked
sixteen hours. Under the age of fourteen, none was allowed to work more
than ten hours, but girls and boys of eight and nine could volunteer to
work seven hours. Their shifts called for six.
The age for admittance at the Centers was lowered to ten. The age to go
out was seventeen, but, as the new classes came along, would be lowered
to sixteen and fifteen.
The strike came on New Year's Eve. There was ample warning. Word
reached Earth before daylight that a major break-through had occurred.
The Fourth Sector couldn't halt it, but forces were being drawn back
from Three and Two to close the break.
The news was tempered with assurances issued on a global scale by the
Supreme Council. It said that their labors and sacrifices had not been
in vain; that thousands upon thousands of Earth warships still stood
between the planet and the onrushing enemy. It said that the stations
on Mars and the Moons of Jupiter were still intact, as well as on
Earth's Moon, and that hundreds of man-made stations were beyond the
orbit of Saturn.
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 re-crossed,
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 Sue
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.