Straut cursed his luck as he hung up the phone. Margrave was ready to relieve him; and after he had exercised every precaution. He had to do something, fast, something to sew this thing up before it slipped out of his hands. He looked at Greer.
“I’m neutralizing this thing once and for all. There’ll be no more men killed while I stand by.”
Lieberman stood up. “General! I must protest any attack against this—”
Straut whirled. “I’m handling this, Professor. I don’t know who let you in here or why—but I’ll make the decisions. I’m stopping this man-killer before it comes out of its nest, maybe gets into that village beyond the woods; there are four thousand civilians there. It’s my job to protect them.” He jerked his head at Greer, strode out of the room. Lieberman followed, protesting.
“The creature has shown no signs of aggressiveness, General Straut—”
“With two men dead—?”
“You should have kept them back—”
Straut stopped, turned.
“Oh, it was my fault, was it?” Straut stared at Lieberman with cold fury. This civilian pushed his way in here, then had the infernal gall to accuse him, Brigadier General Straut, of causing the deaths of his own men. If he had the fellow in uniform for five minutes…
“You’re not well, General. That fall—”
“Keep out of my way, Professor,” Straut said. He turned and went on down the stairs: The present foul-up could ruin his career; and now this egghead interference…
With Greer at his side, Straut moved out to the edge of the field.
“All right, Major. Open up with your .50 calibers.”
Greer called a command and a staccato rattle started up. The smell of cordite, and the blue haze of gunsmoke… This was more like it. This would put an end to the nonsense. He was in command here, he had the power…
Greer lowered his binoculars. “Cease fire!” he commanded.
“Who told you to give that order, Major?” Straut barked.
Greer looked at him. “We’re not even marking the thing.”
Straut took the binoculars, stared through them.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll try something heavier. Let it have a round of 40mm.”
Lieberman came up to Straut. “General, I appeal to you in the name of science. Hold off a little longer; at least until we learn what the message is about. The creature may—”
“Get back from the firing line, Professor.” Straut turned his back on the civilian, raised the glasses to observe the effect of the recoilless rifle. There was a tremendous smack of displaced air, and a thunderous boom! as the explosive shell struck. Straut saw the gray shape jump, the raised lid waver. Dust rose from about it. There was no other effect.
“Keep firing, Greer,” Straut snapped, almost with a feeling of triumph. The thing was impervious to artillery; now who was going to say it was no threat?
“How about the mortars, sir?” Greer said. “We can drop a few rounds in and blast the thing out of its nest.”
“All right, try it, if the lid doesn’t drop first. We won’t be able to touch it if it does.” And what we’ll try next, I don’t know, he thought; we can’t drop anything really big on it, not unless we evacuate the whole country.
The mortar fired, with a muffled thud. Straut watched tensely. Five second later, the ship erupted in a gout of pale pink debris. The lid rocked, pinkish fluid running down its opalescent surface. A second burst, and a third. A great fragment of the menacing claw hung from the branch of a tree a hundred feet from the ship. Straut grabbed for the phone. “Cease fire!”
Lieberman stared in horror at the carnage.
The telephone rang. Straut picked it up.
“General Straut,” he said. His voice was firm. He had put an end to the threat for all time.
“Straut, we’ve broken the message,” Margrave said excitedly. “It’s the damnedest thing…” Straut wanted to interrupt, announce his victory, but Margrave was droning on.
“… strange sort of reasoning, but there was a certain analogy. In any event, I’m assured the translation is accurate. Put into English—”
Straut listened. Then he carefully placed the receiver on the hook.
Lieberman stared at him. “What was it, the message? Have they translated it?”
Straut nodded.
“What did it say?”
Straut cleared his throat. He turned and looked at Lieberman for a long moment before answering.
“It said, ‘Please take good care of my little girl!’ ”