Daak blinked weakly. He groped for his pince-nez, found it on the blanket. When it was in position, he said: “I am an old man… I did not come here willingly… you are soldiers, so you expect to die. Surely you will give me the chance to live? Listen… I’ll make a bargain! If I am allowed to leave with three legionnaires for the foothills, I will willingly surrender to the French after the explosion. And I will reveal everything—I promise it. I know a great deal about thermonuclear explosions. I could—”
Keith was watching him. Staring at Daak in a fixed, unseeing way.
Nine words which the professor had used were hammering in his brain.
“I know a great deal about thermo-nuclear explosions…”
That was what he had said.
There was nothing new in that. Obviously, he must have a vast knowledge of the subject. Then why were those words repeating themselves? Crashing in his head, as if trying to tell him something which was not contained in the simple context!
Why?
In the moment of realisation, Keith thought he was going to collapse. The implications were almost beyond toleration.
He moved towards D’Aran, his face taut and twisted. “Mon officier… just for one minute, can I speak to you alone?”
D’Aran hesitated. Then he nodded as he rose from behind the desk.
“If you insist, legionnaire,” he said. “We’ll go into the compound.”
They were absent for fully fifteen minutes. And when they returned Keith’s face was flushed. D’Aran’s features betrayed a mingling of hope and doubt.
The legionnaires in the room and the corridor crowded closer.
Daak was blinking on the side of his cot. It was Daak to whom D’Aran spoke.
He said gently: “Are you sure that your knowledge would be of value to us, professor?”
Daak’s face suffused with hope.
“Most certainly! I think I have been following a different basis of calculation, but that would make my conclusions more valuable to the West.”
“And you are prepared to betray your own country?”
“I—I have changed my views. In my soul, I have always sympathised with the West. It would not be a betrayal.”
D’Aran nodded cynically.
Then he said slowly and precisely: “Could you defuse a thermo-nuclear bomb?”
Only the flies were unaffected. They continued to buzz round the oil lamp.
It seemed that all the men there ceased to live. For transitory seconds they did not breathe, they did not move. Then, like animals stirring after hibernation, they gave out a long, deep sigh.
Except Daak.
He remained immobile, his jaw slack.
D’Aran moved closer to him.
“Answer me, professor! Could you defuse a thermonuclear bomb? Could you?”
Daak closed his jaw, only to open it again as he croaked: “I—I don’t know, lieutenant! I don’t think so…”
“But you boasted of your knowledge just now.”
“It was a true boast!”
“Then if we were to get you to the Sanna proving ground, surely you could render the explosive harmless!”
Daak raised both hands in a flabby gesture.
“No! You don’t understand such things! It would be necessary to immobilise the atom triggering. To do that I would have to know the type of neutron and nucleus employed. Without such knowledge I would be working in the dark. I might even set the bomb off prematurely.”
His words sounded impressively final
D’Aran said: “The bomb will be exploded through electrical contact, will it not?”
“Yes—almost certainly. Electricity is not quite the element used, but it is near enough.”
“It will be carried on a cable?”
“Certainly. There can be no other way.”
“Could we break the cable?”
Daak jerked to his feet.
“God, no! The cable will certainly be armoured! But in any case, an attempt to sever it would be more dangerous than meddling with the bomb itself!”
“Then it seems that you must meddle with the bomb, professor!”
He whimpered.
“I can’t… I wouldn’t have one chance in a hundred…”
“You’ll have no chance at all if you do not,” D’Aran said. “It is now ten o’clock. We have seventeen hours to reach the Sanna Oasis and defuse the bomb. If the horses hold out, we will get there before dawn. That ought to allow you plenty of time. But you can be assured of one thing, professor—if you fail, I won’t blame you!”
There was a trickle of nervous laughter.
Then a legionnaire said: “Who’s going with you, mow officier?
“Legionnaire Tragarth.”
The legionnaires said suspiciously: “Suppose Daak succeeds—what then? You’ll die of thirst. So will we.”
D’Aran shook his head.
“I don’t think so. If there is no explosion at three o’clock, we can be sure that many people will rush to Sauna at great speed to find what’s amiss. I will be waiting for them… I will tell them. Relief will soon reach you.”
He seemed satisfied.
D’Aran turned again to Daak: “We will carry water for you alone,” he said. “You are no great weight and neither am I, so I will ride a horse with you. We’ll do all we can to make it easy for you…”
He paused wearily, then added: “I never thought I’d be so interested in your health, professor!”
8. The Avengers
There was a tinge of grey on the edge of the earth. It changed to silver-white, then to orange. Presently, the tip of the sun showed over the bare horizon.
It was dawn, July the eighth.
D’Aran released one hand from Daak’s waist and looked at his compass. So far as he could calculate from dead reckoning, they were following an accurate, course for Sanna. And they could not be much more than a couple of miles away from the place. If the horses did not collapse, they would sight it very soon.
The horses…
They were one problem. They had drunk greedily of the salted water. And, as Daak had foretold, they had shown no immediate ill effect. But for the past two hours their hides had been twitching violently. Their mouths had turned white with foam. Occasionally they bucked and whinnied.
Daak…
He was another problem. D’Aran had to hold him in the saddle. He groaned with each jolt. Despite warnings, he had long since finished his water. D’Aran and Keith had watched longingly as he drank it. But they were glad that his thirst should be appeased. Everything depended on Daak.
But Daak was ill again. Very ill…
And in the fort…
A legionnaire who had not slept said to others who had not slept either: “They must be there by now. It’s dawn. D’Aran said they’d reach Sanna by dawn.”
“He said that they might—if the horses held out!”
“Never mind the horses. How about the pot-bellied professor! Is he holding out?”
“Still hours to wait…”
“God, I’m scared…”
“God, I’m thirsty…”
Keith’s horse died when they were less than a mile from Sanna. It stopped suddenly, forelegs splayed. Then it rolled on its side. Keith only just managed to jump away in time.
D’Aran reined his own mount. He glanced at the professor and said: “We’ll have to carry him ourselves. If this animal collapses it will fall on Daak.”
Keith helped them to dismount. Daak could stand unaided, but no more. He was as weak as a baby and in pain. But he had not lapsed into one of his deliriums. He was, thank heaven, still clear headed.