"For just a little while," she murmured, "let's pretend that we're alone in the universe."
They were lucky, for no one disturbed them. No calls came over the receiver. Perhaps, everyone in the ships clustered together in the tremendous cavern were silent and motionless, sitting like rabbits in a hole and hoping that the wolves prowling outside would not notice the hole. Perhaps there were other lovers' who had found a niche and were making love, thinking that this might be their last chance forever.
But there came the time when Ingrid and Broward could no longer pretend that there was no outside world. Reluctantly, they opened the port and entered the larger domain of the Zemlya. He went to the captain's cabin to make a belated report, and she went to the biological laboratory to determine if she were pregnant. Radman, a tall, thin man with unruly wheat-colored hair, either was not aware of what Broward had done or was purposely ignoring it. He gave him an official welcome and told him that all ship commanders were to meet within an hour for a conference. No, no news about the Axe had come in. At present, a small scouter, disguised as a boulder, was on top of a mountain which formed part of the crater around the Clavius base. But it would not return with a report until it was safe for it to move. And that would not occur until the Axe left—if they did.
Broward hastened to the biolab and met Ingrid just as she was leaving. By her downcast expression, he knew
what the results of the test had been.
"Don't worry," he said. "We'll try harder the next time—if that's possible."
"If there is a next time. I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen and very soon."
"We'll see how your so-called woman's intuition works out.
I'll see you later. I have to attend a meeting. But don't expect much. I'm very tired. I've had about three hours' sleep in the last thirty, and those were very trying hours."
"Including our honeymoon?" she said, but she smiled. "A man should be fresh and strong then, darling. I'll get some sleep—I hope—and then I'll see you."
He kissed her briefly on the lips and walked away. However, he was not to return as quickly as he had hoped. Radman had called his officers together to discuss their procedure in case the Axe fleet remained in full force. Broward did not see much sense in this. It would be better to find out first if the enemy had come to establish bases. Otherwise, why waste time. Perhaps, Radman was doing this to give them something to occupy their thoughts and keep them from getting jittery. In any case... the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by the captain seated next to him. Radman was glowering at him, but, before he could say anything, Broward apologized. Thereafter, he had to struggle to keep his eyes open during the seemingly unending discussion. He managed, although without contributing anything of his own.
After listening to anybody who cared to volunteer, and there were many dissenting opinions, especially from the Chinese, Radman made his decision. If the scout indicated that the Soviet must evacuate, then the fleet would make a run for it to Ganymede. On the way, a ship carrying the bomb Broward had brought back from Earth would approach close enough to Mars to launch it. The Axe fleet would find out about the destruction of their home base sooner or later. When it did, then it could either surrender to the Soviet or die when its supplies were exhausted. Or it could start digging in some place, the Moon or Mercury. In either case, the Axe would be vulnerable to attack.
Broward did not understand why it would not be much better strategy to send one ship with the bomb against Mars while the Soviet fleet remained holed up. Why expose it? Why not lie hidden until the Axe fleet found out that the Martian colonies were destroyed? If Argentineans then decided to rebuild the Moon bases or to dig deep into the interior, they could be simultaneously attacked by the Soviets already within the Moon and the fleet now in this cavern.
Did Radman have some ambition of his own to become supreme leader of the survivors? Did he hope that the Axe would locate Scone's group and destroy it?
Broward did not know. But be felt too tired and disgusted to care much at the moment. Dismissed, he left the conference room and returned to the scout ship. There, he found Ingrid waiting for him. The sight of her renewed his desire. He did not get to sleep as soon as he had planned. "Do you know," he said drowsily just before he sank away, "this is what people everywhere should be doing. They should be making love at night, and in the daytime they should be working for their loved ones. Not thinking about how to kill and to keep from being killed. Wouldn't it be nice if everybody was doing just that?"
"But it's not a nice world. Rather, sometimes it is, but most of the time..."
He was awakened by a voice from the com. "Captain Broward! Captain Broward! Report at once to Commander Radman on the bridge! Lieutenant Nashdoi! Lieutenant Nashdoi! Report at once to Commander Radman on the bridge!"
He jumped up from the air-mattress, shook Ingrid until she roused, and began dressing. Once she understood what was happening, she put on her uniform, hastily combed her short hair, and followed him into the Zemlya. There was much activity aboard, with every one busy at work or trying to look as if he or she had something important to do.
"What's up?" Ingrid said to Broward as they entered the huge navigation room where the officers' conferences were held. Then, she stopped so suddenly that he bumped into her, and she gasped.
He did not need to ask her what had startled her. There, standing behind the commander's desk, taller and bigger than any man in the room, was Scone. "How... how...?" said Ingrid, but Broward gave her a little nudge and said, "Don't be frightened. What can he do-Scone gave them one long look, his features impassive, then he said something to Radman. The commander spoke loudly, "Take your seats! Colonel Scone will address you!"
Broward guided Ingrid to a seat, for she still seemed stunned, and he sat down beside her. Not caring that it was an unmilitary action, he took her hand in his. But he continued examining Scone.
The big man's face was smudged with dirt; his uniform jacket was ripped down one sleeve. And his eyes were circled with the blue of fatigue.
His voice, however, was as loud and powerful as ever; he did not seem to have lost a whit of confidence or authority.
"You must be surprised because I am here. You thought I was with the others in the refuge. And so I was. And how I got here is not important, because I made sure before we sealed up the main entrances to our cavern that there would be at least one exit. Its location is a military secret and will remain so until circumstances dictate otherwise."
By then, the entire audience was in a state of frenzied speculation, though silent, and many were semi-stunned. It seemed obvious that something terrible had happened and that Scone was the only survivor.
He gave ope of his rare smiles and said, "I know what you are thinking. But you are only half right. The others are not lost—at least, not all of them, by any means. What happened is this..."
The Moonmen had entered the titanic bubble and had set off the chemical reactions that would melt down the bases and glass over the rocky floors. They did not dare destroy the bases with the small atomic bombs available because the Axe fleet was so close it might have detected the explosions and certainly would have noticed the too-high radioactive background. Then, beams had melted the rock that formed the entrance tunnel. This was done to prevent the Axe detecting the tunnel with magnetometer readings. Because Clavius was in the sun's shadow, the hot rock on the surface would cool quickly, quickly enough so that the Axe would not notice the heat—it was hoped.
Then, the Moonmen waited. They were not inactive, however, for all hands were busy moving equipment to suitable places and to set it up. Since this bubble was to be the permanent habitation of most of them, the oxygen-generators had to be operated full blast. The water had to be melted. Construction of buildings was started. Rock was chewed up and blown into the machines that would convert the minerals therein into edible, though tasteless, food. Other rocks were broken down into fine particles and mixed with chopped-up garbage to make soil into which plants could fix their roots. Sunlamps were set up to beam on the plants, and water was sprayed over the ground.