Mier was lying in bed. He was a dark-skinned man of about fifty-five, bald, and with a craggy face and eagle's-beak nose. He would have been an impressive man at another time. Now, he was shaking and his teeth were chattering. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"General Mier!" Saavedra said. "Have you no one to take care of you? Where is your daughter, your sons?"
'Two of my sons are dead," the general said. "My daughter has gone where only God and the devil know. Rather, the devil knows, for I think she has been made one of Howards' secretaries."
"Nombre de Dios! You mean... ?"
Mier nodded and then could not stop nodding. Finally, managing to control himself, he said, "When Carlota was ordered to report to that fiend, I knew what was in store for her. I phoned Howards, begged that she be allowed to remain with me, to nurse me. But he refused. He said the state needed her. The state! L'etat, c'est Howards! Carlota is a beautiful girl, and that beast saw her and desired her. He dared to take her only because I am sick and he thinks I will die soon.
"Oh, if only my son, the only left alive to me, my brave strong Ulises, were here! He would do what I am too weak to do. He would avenge our honor."
"We will avenge you," cried Saavedra. "But it would be senseless to try to storm Howards' building with only three of us. We would accomplish nothing but our own deaths."
"If I could walk, if I could hold a gun," Mier said, "I would go into that building alone. I would shoot until they killed me. At least, I would have shown them that the father of Carlota Mier is no coward nor a man to treat lightly."
"No one doubts your courage," the colonel said. "But we are here for something even more important—if you will forgive me for saying so—than removing the stain on your family honor. We are here to save Mars. To save humanity."
"I do not understand," Mier replied through clicking teeth.
Saavedra told him as swiftly as he could, touching only the most significant of the events that had brought them here, Mier said, "Holy Mother of Christ! My Ulises was with the fleet that was sent to the Moon! Young man, you yanqui, you say that two of our ships did escape? Destroyers?"
Mier raised himself a little from his pillows, but he fell back. "Then there is still a chance that my Ulises is alive. He was on a destroyer."
"Let us hope so," Broward answered. "And, if our plans work, your son may live to be a hundred or more. And you may have many fine grandchildren."
Mier said, "There is only one thing to do. My friends, those who have been wronged by Howards, those who hate him only because of what he is, these must help us."
Saavedra suggested several names. At each one, Mier shook his head.
No. That one was dead. No. That one was on Phobos. No. This one was even sicker than he, Mier. That one was no man; he had been greatly wronged but he loved his worthless life more than his self-respect.
Again, Saavedra looked at his wristwatch. "Is there no one to help us? Surely..."
"There is His Holiness," Mier said.
"But he is a priest," Saavedra replied. "What could he do?"
"Wait a minute," Broward said. "The Pope escaped? He is here?"
"Not the saintly Pelagio III," said Quiroga. "He was in Buenos Aires when the bombs struck. The present Holy Father was Father Vonheyder, the Bishop of Mars. He assumed the pontificate, as was his right, and the name of Siricio II. Saint Siricius, his namesake, was the 38th pope."
"We've no time for ecclesiastical history," the colonel said. "I will admit that the Holy Father has reason to wish that another than Howards was his secular chief. It is obvious by now to everyone that Howards would like for all of the remaining priests in the world to die. There are only thirty left. But he would not dare to make an overt move against them. He would have a revolt on his hands."
Broward said, suddenly, "There's your answer!"
Startled, they stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Look, I know you aren't going to like what I'm about to propose. But a desperate situation requires swift and desperate measures. You can't afford to be scrupulous. What if one of you made an anonymous call to Howards? Told him that the Pope was plotting to lead a revolt against him because the Pope fears that the Church is in mortal danger of perishing forever?
"Then Howards will be forced to arrest Siricio. And when that happens, you can get some quick action and support from those who have hitherto held back. They won't dare not fight; their souls will be in danger if they do."
Saavedra exploded. "You are crazy, you atheist Soviet! We should betray the Holy Father to save our lives? And lose our souls?"
"I would not think of it" Quiroga said. His face was white.
Mier's weakening voice seemed to originate at the bottom of his lungs and taper off before it reached his lips. Broward bent over him.
"Do not try to force the Holy Father into such a situation. He will not be your tool. But go to him, talk to him. Perhaps he can suggest something. He is a very wise and a very strong man. And there are many devout Catholics here. Originally, Howards sent high-ranking potential troublemakers here, many of whom were Catholics, to get rid of them. But that was before he thought of coming here himself. The Holy Father was one of those he got transferred to Mars. Talk to him. Perhaps..."
Saavedra said, "Is he all right?"
"I think he's dying," replied Broward. He moved away to allow the colonel to get closer to Mier. But Mier spoke loudly enough for all to hear.
"Ay de mi! Save my daughter! Save..."
There was a rattling. The general's mouth dropped open, and his eyes stared.
Saavedra covered the face with a sheet. He was weeping. "He was my friend!" he sobbed. "He was a brave man!"
Quiroga had already picked up a phone and was trying to get through to a priest But Broward pressed the button that turned the phone off.
"We'll go to the Pope's house," he said. "We can send a priest from there to Mier. There's no time to waste."
"We will be under surveillance," said Saavedra. "The moment we enter, Intelligence will know. It won't be difficult for them to identify Pablo and me. And a little checking will tell them that we left the port with a third man whose face was bandaged. That will be enough for them to investigate. They won't lose any time."
"What do you suggest? We haven't any time to lose, either."
The two Argentineans looked helpless. Broward said, "I'm going there. Don't stop me. You know what will happen if you do."
Saavedra took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. He said, "Very well. We'll go with you. God help us, we can do nothing else."
On the way, Saavedra said, "So far, we've been lucky not to have been stopped by roving Angelos. These Angels are Howards' personal army and secret service. They have many privileges, which they abuse. One of them is the right to stop and question any citizen whom they think suspicious. They do it quite frequently and use the opportunity to get bribes."
They drove through various corridors of varying sizes. At the intersections of the tunnels were signs, suspended from the ceilings, that indicated the names and east-west or north-south locations and the levels. Saavedra was familiar' with this section, so he did not have to use the maps in the jeep. But he confessed that there were many parts of Osorno where he would have been lost without their help.
The jeep halted before a line of elevator doors. The colonel pressed a button on the panel of the jeep, and the door directly in front of them slid open. The jeep entered; Quiroga got out to press the down button.
"If Osorno grows to be a great city," Broward said, "it will be haunted by the thought that some day another bomb, such as the one now above Mars, may be dropped on this planet. If we succeed here, I intend to destroy the bomb that now exists. But the people who made it, they still exist, and they can make another. If they survive under the sea and some day emerge, they will be a threat to all of humanity."