It took the small group of survivors a week to adjust to their new
surroundings. During that time they explored the fort and began taking
an inventory. The laboratories were the first to be put back into
use. The greatest activity centered around the organic lab where the
biochemist, the biologist, and Isaac Trigg were immersed in the study
of the alien amoebas.
Matt Magoffin had converted the large front room of his and Lynn's
apartment into an office. He had been confronted with a thousand
problems clamoring all at once to be solved. He had ended by
obstinately refusing to tackle more than one at a time.
At the moment he was regarding Lynn rather balefully over his desk.
"It's intolerable!" she was saying. "This being under siege by a couple
of hundred women. We can't send an expedition out of the fort. We can't
leave the place...."
"And they can't batter their way in," he interrupted. "It's stalemate."
"But...."
"Never mind the buts! There are other things more important to
consider."
"What?" Lynn's expression was set in indignant lines. "All the
specialists have made lists of the things they consider vital--books,
instruments and raw materials. There's a good photographic lab here,
but no means of manufacturing film, lenses or cameras. I want the
material to make our own equipment. Everyone else is in the same boat.
And what happens? We're under siege by a lot of paranoic women, and we
can't stir a foot beyond the gates. Maybe you think other things are
more important. But I'd like to know what?"
"Look out the window," he said dryly.
A puzzled expression crept across Lynn's features. She twisted in her
chair and gazed out on the park-like roof garden.
The grass had been cut, shrubs trimmed, leaves and debris raked. Water
sparkled in the swimming pool. A fountain gurgled.
"But what...." She paused, wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't look so green
as when we first came! It's beginning to turn brown!"
"And this is May," he informed her. "It should be the greenest month."
"But I don't see...."
"I sent down a specimen of the soil to be analyzed yesterday. Sawyer
said the alien infestation has spread to the earth. Not the exact same
species as the organism in the water--a variation--an adaptation!"
"But I still don't see...."
He said grimly. "Do you remember how the amoebas killed all other
microscopic life forms in the water? The same thing is happening in the
soil.
"Plants depend to a large extent on the work of microbe like organisms
that convert minerals into a form that they can assimilate. With those
organisms dead, the vegetation is starving to death!"
The girl's eyes widened in horror. "But, Matt, every form of life
depends directly or indirectly on vegetation--even us!"
"Even us," he echoed in a grim voice. "But maybe we can make an island
out of this fort. Willie Shaw is experimenting with an aluminum oxide
glass to seal us in. Silicon wouldn't do. The engineers are drawing
plans for an air-conditioning unit that will destroy the alien amoebas.
We are going to enclose the roof in a glass dome.
"We can't destroy the alien protozoa all over the world. But we can
destroy them inside the fort."
"A hot-house culture!" The girl's shoulders slumped. "So that's to be
the future of the human race. If we survive at all!"
"That's about it," he said.
* * * * *
Through the windows, he saw four men bearing down on his office. Hi
Nesbit, the young palaeontologist, was in the lead.
"Here comes trouble," said Matt. He pushed back from his desk and stood
up just as the four men entered.
Nesbit's lean jaw was thrust out; he planted himself squarely in front
of Matt. Matt found himself aching to take a sock at that inviting jaw
but he restrained himself.
"Well," he said, "why aren't you at work?"
Nesbit looked slightly taken aback; then he recovered himself. "Look
here, Matt, we've had enough of this shilly-shallying about the women.
You don't care, we know; you've got Lynn. But some of us aren't so
fortunate...."
Matt knocked him sprawling.
There was a shocked silence from the others as Nesbit toppled over a
chair and hit the floor with his shoulders.
The palaeontologist scrambled to his feet, his black eyes insane. He
started to swing, but Matt hit him in the mouth. Nesbit reeled back,
his mouth spilling blood.
"Damn you," said Nesbit. "I'll kill you for this!" He picked up a metal
chair.
Matt watched the younger man like a hawk as he closed in. There was
murder in Nesbit's eyes, heightened by the blood from his mouth.
Without warning, Matt kicked Nesbit's feet out from under him and then
kicked him in the temple. The palaeontologist went out like a candle.
Matt didn't trouble to give Nesbit a second glance, but looked up
swiftly at the three men who had accompanied the palaeontologist.
"Any more objections?"
Their faces were sick. Matt realized that the physical violence had
shocked them unutterably.
"Get on back to work, then!" he snapped. "And take that crazy
trouble-maker with you."
They picked up Nesbit silently and were starting to leave when Matt
stopped them.
"I'll have my eye on you," he said, "so walk softly. As for the women,
that's to be decided at the general assembly--tonight. Now get the hell
out of here!"
At three o'clock, Willie Shaw dropped in at Matt's office, nodded at
Lynn who was transcribing notes, and sat down in front of the desk.
Willie Shaw was a small dark woman of thirty-five, the expedition's
chemist. She was living with Alex Gist, the astro-physicist.