"I wouldn't say that. But it will require weeks of treatment before
they can be admitted among us without danger. There's a mob psychology
about their aberration that is contagious." Barb Poindexter sank slowly
into her chair.
"That settles that!" said Matt. "Or is there any further objection to
keeping them segregated?" and he looked straight at Nesbit.
The palaeontologist looked as if he wanted to say plenty, but he kept
his mouth shut.
Margot Drake said suddenly in a ringing voice, "Do you mind if I ask a
question?"
Everyone turned to stare at the red-headed leader of the Amazons. She
was regarding them coolly.
"No," said Matt. "Go ahead."
"I'll pass up those cracks about our sanity," Margot said. "They may
or may not be true. I don't care. But is it a fact that the world is
coming to an end?"
It was the fat biologist who answered. "For our type of life--yes. For
this alien silicon-base species of protoplasm--no. A million, two
million years hence, the silicon amoebas may even evolve an intelligent
species. But, unless we establish a sanctuary here, there won't be any
humans to witness it. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes," replied Margot. "Now I've a proposition to make."
"Go ahead," said Matt. There was a speculative gleam in his blue eyes.
"We need you," began Margot. "I'm not denying that. You've got the
knowledge monopolized. But you need us, too. We've got the woman-power
necessary to do the work that must be done...."
"You're suggesting that we combine forces?" said Matt.
Margot nodded.
"There's only one hitch," Matt pointed out. "We can't trust you!"
The red-head looked taken aback. "No," she agreed after a moment of
silence. "No, I suppose not--if you've swallowed all that hogwash...."
"And," Matt relentlessly pressed his point, "we have the fort. We have
tanks and guns and ammunition. We can build the sanctuary despite your
Amazons. It may take us longer, but it can be done. And your girls
can't save themselves from the gradual destruction of all carbon life.
They haven't the special knowledge that's needed."
"Then you won't consider...."
"No," interrupted Matt. "I didn't say that."
Margot Drake regarded the stocky black-haired palaeobotanist in
perplexity. "What do you propose?"
"That your forces disarm and give themselves up."
Two bright spots began to burn in Margot Drake's cheek bones. "That's
preposterous!"
Matt shrugged. The red-haired woman chewed her lip savagely. At length
she asked, "What would happen to us then?"
"Nothing," Matt replied with a grin. "You would have to work, of
course. But we're all going to do that--and take orders. Then you would
have to be segregated, at least until we get the fort encased, the
hydroponic gardens growing. But that's all."
"Segregated?"
"Yes. We could turn over a couple of floors to your girls. Put guards
at the stairways and elevators. I ought to warn you that I'd give
orders that any of them who are found off their floors should be shot
on sight."
For a long tense moment the silence held.
"We haven't much choice," Margot said at length from between her teeth.
"How can I contact my girls?"
* * * * *
Matt's eyes were bright. "We'll release you. You can go talk to them
yourself. Of course we'll keep these other women as hostages. You can
have three hours. At the end of that time, if you haven't returned,
we'll hang one of your girls at the front gate every hour until you do!"
Margot stared at him in disbelief, then gradually realized that he was
serious. "When can I go?"
"Now."
"Now?" she said. "Where do I bring them?"
"Into the freight entrance--unarmed!--and in three hours."
"What about these irons?"
"We'll strike them off." He sent the chief engineer after the torch.
They waited in tense silence until the chief returned.
"Wait a moment," said Matt. "Hadn't we better put this to a vote?"
"Yes," agreed Isaac. He stood up. "Any objections?" They were too
stunned to offer any.
"Very well," said Isaac. "Strike off her shackles, Steve."
Matt leaned down the table. "Get your automatic, Lynn. Take Duff and
Jacob Haddin with you and escort her to the gate. Let her out, then
come straight back here."
Lynn nodded and slipped from the room. She was back by the time
Margot's shackle had dropped to the floor.
"O.K.," said Matt to the red-headed leader. "You can go now." He
glanced at his watch. "But if you're not back by eleven o'clock we
begin to hang your girls, one every hour until you do get back!"
Margot nodded silently. Escorted by Lynn and the two men, she
disappeared through the door.
Captain Bascom inquired in a tight voice, "What in hell are you
proposing, Matt?"
"To put the lot of them in irons. You don't suppose I'd trust them to
live up to their side of the agreement, do you?"
* * * * *
The vast echoing hall that was the freight depot was ablaze with
lights. Matt Magoffin paced nervously back and forth in front of the
door, his chunky figure casting a monstrous shadow.
He glanced at his watch and took a last reassuring glance about the
hall. The freight elevator's door that lined the right hand wall were
all closed. The ramp was blocked; all the other exits were bolted.
The minutes dragged past.
Matt suddenly heard voices. Then a bell began to ring shrilly. He went
to the control box and pressed a button. The massive outer doors swept
soundlessly open.
The driveway outside was massed with women--lean women and fat women,
old and young, big and little. Margot Drake was at their head.
"Have you disposed of your arms?" Matt called.
"Yes." The red-headed leader stared into the silent empty hall, her
eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Then bring 'em in."
Margot hesitated, and then turned around. "Come on," she said.
Silent and curious, they filed inside. Matt spotted Sparks, a sheepish
expression on his face, and the two pilots.
"Hello," Matt called. "I see you boys are returning to the fold." They
grinned but didn't say anything.
The children trooped in last, almost a hundred of them. When they were
all inside, Matt walked to the door, closed and bolted it. Margot Drake
was at his elbow. "What floors do we get?"
"Twenty-ninth and thirtieth."
"How does it happen no one else is here?"
Matt could feel his heart thumping in his throat and his mouth was dry,
but he managed to grin.
"If you were planning treachery, I'm the only one you'd get." He
started for the side of the hall. "I'll call an elevator."
Matt could feel his palms sweating. He reached the wall and pressed the
button. A bell began to ring in the elevator shaft.
Eight of the doors slid open, revealing an ugly machine gun in each
car. Matt nimbly skipped into the nearest one.
"Get your women against the far wall, Margot Drake," he yelled, "or
we'll chop them into hamburger with the guns!"
X
Summer was on the wane before the last plastic plate was welded in the
dome over the fortress, and the work was done.
Matt, accompanied by Isaac Trigg, made a tour of inspection from the
lowest basement with its water-purifiers to the park atop the roof.
They inspected the massive airlock, capable of passing a large freight
car, and the hydroponic gardens that occupied the entire seventh and
eighth floors.
"Not so fast, Matt," Isaac puffed. "I'm not as young as I used to be."