Moss braced his shoulders. “We’re certain that we’ve forced their hand. We’ve brought the issue to a head.”
They pulled up at the station link of the Tube and leaped out. A moment later they were moving up at high speed toward the first stage.
They emerged into a bewildering scene of activity. Soldiers were fastening on lead suits, talking excitedly to each other, shouting back and forth. Guns were being given out, instructions passed.
Taylor studied one of the soldiers. He was armed with the dreaded Bender pistol, the new snub-nosed hand weapon that was just beginning to come from the assembly line. Some of the soldiers looked a little frightened.
“I hope we’re not making a mistake,” Moss said, noticing his gaze.
Franks came toward them. “Here’s the program. The three of us are going up first, alone. The soldiers will follow in fifteen minutes.”
“What are we going to tell the leadies?” Taylor worriedly asked. “We’ll have to tell them something.”
“We want to observe the new Soviet attack.” Franks smiled ironically. “Since it seems to be so serious, we should be there in person to witness it.”
“And then what?” Taylor said.
“That’ll be up to them. Let’s go.”
In a small car, they went swiftly up the Tube, carried by anti-grav beams from below. Taylor glanced down from time to time. It was a long way back, and getting longer each moment. He sweated nervously inside his suit, gripping his Bender pistol with inexpert fingers.
Why had they chosen him? Chance, pure chance. Moss had asked him to come along as a Department member. Then Franks had picked him out on the spur of the moment. And now they were rushing toward the surface, faster and faster.
A deep fear, instilled in him for eight years, throbbed in his mind. Radiation, certain death, a world blasted and lethal—
Up and up the car went. Taylor gripped the sides and closed his eyes. Each moment they were closer, the first living creatures to go above above the first stage, up the Tube past the lead and rock, up to the surface. The phobic horror shook him in waves. It was death; they all knew that. Hadn’t they seen it in the films a thousand times? The cities, the sleet coming down, the rolling clouds—
“It won’t be much longer,” Franks said. “We’re almost there. The surface tower is not expecting us. I gave orders that no signal was to be sent.”
The car shot up, rushing furiously. Taylor’s head spun; he hung on, his eyes shut. Up and up…
The car stopped. He opened his eyes.
They were in a vast room, fluorescent-lit, a cavern filled with equipment and machinery, endless mounds of material piled in row after row. Among the stacks, leadies were working silently, pushing trucks and handcarts.
“Leadies,” Moss said. His face was pale. “Then we’re really on the surface.”
The leadies were going back and forth with equipment moving the vast stores of guns and spare parts, ammunition and supplies that had been brought to the surface. And this was the receiving station for only one Tube; there were many others, scattered throughout the continent.
Taylor looked nervously around him. They were really there, above ground, on the surface. This was where the war was.
“Come on,” Franks said. “A B-class guard is coming our way.”
They stepped out of the car. A leady was approaching them rapidly. It coasted up in front of them and stopped scanning them with its hand-weapon raised.
“This is Security,” Franks said. “Have an A-class sent to me at once.”
The leady hesitated. Other B-class guards were coming, scooting across the floor, alert and alarmed. Moss peered around.
“Obey!” Franks said in a loud, commanding voice. “You’ve been ordered!”
The leady moved uncertainly away from them. At the end of the building, a door slid back. Two Class-A leadies appeared, coming slowly toward them. Each had a green stripe across its front.
“From the Surface Council,” Franks whispered tensely. “This is above ground, all right. Get set.”
The two leadies approached warily. Without speaking, they stopped close by the men, looking them up and down.
“I’m Franks of Security. We came from undersurface in order to—”
“This is incredible,” one leady interrupted him coldly. “You know you can’t live up here. The whole surface is lethal to you. You can’t possibly remain on the surface.”
“These suits will protect us,” Franks said. “In any case, it’s not your responsibility. What I want is an immediate Council meeting so I can acquaint myself with conditions, with the situation here. Can that be arranged?”
“You human beings can’t survive up here. And the new Soviet attack is directed at this area. It is in considerable danger.”
“We know that. Please assemble the Council.” Franks looked around him at the vast room, lit by recessed lamps in the ceiling. An uncertain quality came into his voice. “Is it night or day right now?”
“Night,” one of the A-class leadies said, after a pause. “Dawn is coming in about two hours.”
Franks nodded. “We’ll remain at least two hours, then. As a concession to our sentimentality, would you please show us some place where we can observe the sun as it comes up? We would appreciate it.”
A stir went through the leadies.
“It is an unpleasant sight,” one of the leadies said. “You’ve seen the photographs; you know what you’ll witness. Clouds of drifting particles blot out the light, slag heaps are everywhere, the whole land is destroyed. For you it will be a staggering sight, much worse than pictures and film can convey.”
“However it may be, we’ll stay long enough to see it. Will you give the order to the Council?”
“Come this way.” Reluctantly, the two leadies coasted toward the wall of the warehouse. The three men trudged after them, their heavy shoes ringing against the concrete. At the wall, the two leadies paused.
“This is the entrance to the Council Chamber. There are windows in the Chamber Room, but it is still dark outside, of course. You’ll see nothing right now, but in two hours—”
“Open the door,” Franks said.
The door slid back. They went slowly inside. The room was small, a neat room with a round table in the center, chairs ringing it. The three of them sat down silently, and the two leadies followed after them, taking their places.
“The other Council Members are on their way. They have already been notified and are coming as quickly as they can. Again I urge you to go back down.” The leady surveyed the three human beings. “There is no way you can meet the conditions up here. Even we survive with some trouble, ourselves. How can you expect to do it?” The leader approached Franks.
“This astonishes and perplexes us,” it said. “Of course we must do what you tell us, but allow me to point out that if you remain here—”
“We know,” Franks said impatiently. “However, we intend to remain, at least until sunrise.”
“If you insist.”
There was silence. The leadies seemed to be conferring with each other, although the three men heard no sound.
“For your own good,” the leader said at last, “you must go back down. We have discussed this, and it seems to us that you are doing the wrong thing for your own good.”
“We are human beings,” Franks said sharply. “Don’t you understand? We’re men, not machines.”
“That is precisely why you must go back. This room is radioactive; all surface areas are. We calculate that your suits will not protect you for over fifty more minutes. Therefore—”
The leadies moved abruptly toward the men, wheeling in a circle, forming a solid row. The men stood up, Taylor reaching awkwardly for his weapon, his fingers numb and stupid. The men stood facing the silent metal figures.
“We must insist,” the leader said, its voice without emotion. “We must take you back to the Tube and send you down on the next car. I am sorry, but it is necessary.”