[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
March 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
By the time the radar signal caught their eye it was too late to do
anything. Planes traveling faster than sound were already inside the
defense zone of the city.
Private First Class Jerry Conlon glanced from the radar screen to
the other five members of his Atomic Gun Post team on the outer
perimeter of the city. The look in their eyes was one of dazed alarm.
Automatically he joined them in zipping shut radiation suits, and then
they went for the gun controls, knowing it was too late.
A flash of intolerable brightness faded out the sun. One of the
boys--Conlon saw him still struggling with his radiation suit--didn't
make it in time. He paid for his slowness with his life.
In that instant of death before his eyes, Jerry thought of his wife
and baby son. It was all he had time for. Just the image in his mind.
An image of fear, because he wondered about them--were they dying even
now?
With the great flash Jerry dropped into the prone position that he'd
been taught. He was protected because the Gun Post had been holed into
the ground and re-enforced with steel-mesh concrete all around. If you
see the flash, it's too late, he'd been told. Well, he'd seen the flash
all right. When he dropped to the concrete base, the floor rose to meet
him halfway. A few seconds later, the suction raised him off the floor
and set him down next to the big gun.
Jerry crawled back to the protection of the bulwark. He had a hazy
glimpse of movement around him, but he couldn't see well enough out of
his blinded eyes to make out what the others were doing. Things were
beginning to rain down out of the sky now, and it continued to rain for
what seemed to Jerry like five or ten minutes. It was fantastic how
high some of the debris must have been blasted into the air, and he
was afraid to move for a long time lest a rock or bit of metal should
suddenly streak down.
It was mostly just the smaller pieces that got as far as the Post. The
biggest chunks had either been completely disintegrated or splattered
along the ground in all directions from the target area. It had been
a direct hit. It only took one blast, but that didn't mean it was the
only one in the country. When the attack came, every big city had
probably been marked for destruction.
Every big city! The thought struck him with sickening force. His wife
and little boy--Mildred and Billy! How about them? Had the blasts gone
inland?
"Conlon, are you all right?"
The sound of the voice stabbed at Jerry. He studied the wavering dark
form in front of his eyes, and recognition of the voice came slowly.
The white blob of the face must belong to Lieutenant Blake. Ordinarily
Jerry would have snapped to attention and saluted, but at the moment
the formality seemed ridiculous.
"I guess I'm all right, sir."
"Good!" That was all Blake said as he passed from Jerry's view.
* * * * *
In Jerry's earphones it sounded like a strong wind was blowing. It
could be the roar of a fleet of rocket planes. Was this the follow-up
attack? Why wasn't the order given to man the gun? He groped forward
and sprawled over a pile of debris. Where was everybody? Where was
Blake? He called out.
"Take it easy, Conlon," a voice said beside him.
"Who--who is it?" Jerry asked, trying to determine the source of the
voice.
"It's me--Adam Peterman. You'll be all right after awhile. What'd you
do--look into the flash?"
"I saw the flash. Good God! Am I going blind?"
"I once looked at a test blast with a radiation suit on. They still
haven't perfected these lenses to shut out all the glare. You'll be
like that for a couple of hours."
"How many of the boys did the blast get?"
Here he was, Jerry thought, asking about the six men in the gun crew
when there must have been thousands--maybe millions--dead in the city,
or what must be left of it.
"There's just three of us alive so far," Peterman said. "The
Lieutenant found Kroger, but he'd been crushed. The rest are either
buried or blown away."
"How about you? I still can't see where you are," Jerry said. "Are you
hurt?"
"My legs got messed up. I'm sitting on the ground. That's why you can't
see me."
"What about the city? What's left of it?"
"From where I'm sitting I should be able to see the tops of some of the
taller buildings over the concrete, but there's nothing there. I hate
to think about it."
"If there is anything left, the rocket planes will bring 'em down."
"What rocket planes?"
"Can't you hear 'em? That roar in the air. It almost drowns out the
geiger meter on my suit."
"Naw, Conlon, that isn't what you think! You're still hearing the sound
of the blast."
"After this long?"
"It doesn't die out for a long time."
Jerry thought about Mildred and Billy. It was this bad even in a
radiation suit with special lenses to protect the eyes; special braces
to minimize the shock wave effects; special material perfected during
the latter part of the century to deflect ultra-radiation. How would
Mildred and Billy fare back home where they were unprotected? They
might even be dead. But no! They couldn't be! They were all he had
left in life. They just had to be alive!
The shadowy blob which was Lieutenant Blake, moved into Jerry's line
of vision. Blake's form seemed to be getting smaller now; the haziness
around the edges seemed to be dwindling.
"How are you Peterman?" Blake asked the man with the wounded legs.
"I'll make it all right, Lieutenant. I might even be able to sight the
gun if you lift me into the seat."
"Good man, Peterman!" Blake turned to Jerry, "Well, Conlon, it looks
like you and I are the only ones on our feet. That means we've got work
to do."
"My eyes are bad, but I think they're clearing up now," Jerry said.
"Things are pretty rough," Blake said. "From what I've been able to
determine, the whole nation's been blasted."
"Lieutenant--no!" Jerry cried. He moved forward toward the Lieutenant
and clutched Blake by the shoulders. "I've got a wife and kid back
home!"
"We all have relatives back home, Conlon. You're no different than
anybody else. And it's just as bad for us as it is for you. You've got
to get a grip on yourself. There's nothing you can do for them one way
or the other."
"The hell there isn't! I'm going back to 'em!"
The Lieutenant's covered hand whipped out and slapped the front of
Jerry's helmet below the vision lens. Jerry went backwards and dropped
to the concrete floor.
"Sorry, Conlon," Blake clipped. "I didn't do that in anger. I merely
wanted to snap you back to your senses! You're still in the Army, and
I'm still your commanding officer. As far as the Army is concerned,
none of us have any relatives."
Jerry got to his feet. There was no question that the Lieutenant was
right. The Army was the big boss, and soldiers were not supposed to
have personal feelings. There were several million soldiers protecting
many millions of people and the only way that Mildred and Billy could
be protected was through the combined and strategic effort of these
soldiers. There were soldiers in the interior risking their lives to
protect people like Mildred and Billy--soldiers with relatives in the
city that Jerry was supposed to protect. It would be a sorry plight if,
at the first sign of trouble, all the men would run home to their own
little families.
It all seemed like a crazy nightmare to Jerry. No matter how big the
catastrophe, human beings still worried about the little problems
along with the big. It was a strange feeling to look over the top of
the bulwark and see nothing but the dirty gray sky where the forms of
big buildings should be. The shock was less horrible to him because
by the time his sight returned, he was accepting the awful scene of
destruction as an unchangeable fact.
* * * * *
It was several hours later before a small contingent of radiation
clothed soldiers arrived in several jeeps. A Colonel of the Army
stepped out. Blake and Conlon stood at attention as the officers
introduced themselves. The Colonel's name was Harrison.
"I'm trying to find out what we have to work with. Not much, I'm
afraid," the Colonel said. "The Government's gone. Communication is
disrupted."
"Did you say there was no more government, Colonel?" Jerry asked.