'That is true, yes,' Dopey said, uncomprehending but reasonable. 'However-'
'So do it. Tell that thing to transmit us, right away.'
'No, no!' Dopey cried in panic. 'We must fight them here! The Beloved Leaders would wish that!'
Rosaleen had been listening intently; now she took a hand. 'Dopey,' she said soothingly, 'you just haven't thought it through. If we fight the machines here we might lose, don't you see? What Dan means, if we go to Starlab we'll be safe. There's only one terminal there; we can guard it day and night, until your Beloved Leaders get around to reestablishing the communication channel there. That's what you had in mind, isn't it, Dan? Wouldn't that work?'
Dannerman didn't bother to answer. Dopey looked bewildered. Then, pettishly, he said, 'Yes, I suppose so, perhaps. But I absolutely forbid it. I-'
Dannerman put his fingers in the loops of the weapon. 'Don't forbid,' he said, the gun squarely pointing at Dopey. 'You'll do it our way or you'll have failed your assignment because you're dead… and then what will you tell your bosses when your eschaton comes around?'
It wasn't that easy. Dopey hadn't stopped arguing. In fact, he never did stop his frantic arguing- or pleading- even after he had given in and allowed the Doc to start the transmissions. Dannerman had to singe a corner of the alien's plume with the weapon before he would go that far.
But it was happening.
They were going home! Patrice stared in wonder and unbelief as the first batch entered the chamber-Rosaleen and the two other Pats-and the door closed behind them. To take them home! Which meant that in a moment Patrice herself could go home! She could hardly believe it, could not take in the sudden change in her outlook-first a dreary and interminable existence in the ruins, then, in the blink of an eye, the sudden prospect of return to Starlab-to Earth-to her life! And it was all happening] The terminal door opened again and it was empty. 'Now you!' Dannerman ordered, pointing to Jimmy Lin. 'And take Dopey with you, but keep an eye on-'
He stopped, listening. Dopey squealed in terror, and then Patrice heard it, too: a heavy, rapid thudding, and the distant buzzing sound like a hive of bees. The Doc that had started the generator was running ponderously toward them-
And behind it, rapidly catching up, one of the spider-legged machines.
This time Patrice was ready. She had her gun in both hands, aiming it carefully. Whether she hit the thing or not she couldn't tell-both Martin and Jimmy Lin were firing at the same time, and she saw the pale beam from Dannerman's Beloved Leaders weapon wavering toward the thing as well. Someone did. The machine spun around crazily and burst into flame, just as the other had.
Dannerman didn't wait. 'Do it, Lin!' he ordered. 'You too, Dopey; there'll be more.'
But Dopey was complaining, wringing his little hands. 'I cannot function without the bearers!'
'Then take them, damn it! All but the one running the transmitter!' And as the alien started to object, simply picked him up and threw him inside. The two Docs followed stolidly, making a tight fit; but then the door closed and they were gone. As the door opened again, Dannerman looked around and saw Patrice standing there. 'Now you,' he ordered. 'Martin, too. I'll hold them off-'
Patrice obeyed…
But not Martin. He grunted, 'Who elected you hero?'… and shoved Dannerman bodily inside, as the door closed.
All Patrice saw was a pale lavender flash that went right through her closed eyelids, and a sickening jolt. And then the door opened and they all fell in a heap out into the weightlessness of Starlab. 'That son of a bitch Martin,' Dannerman groaned. 'We'll wait. Maybe he'll make it…'
They did wait. For long minutes. But Martin didn't come.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Patrice
Never had the stale air of Starlab smelled so much like home. Never had the queasiness of microgravity felt so dear. Patrice couldn't stop grinning-nor either of the other Pats, nor Jimmy Lin, nor even Rosaleen, arms crossed over her belly to hold in some unannounced pain. Only Dopey and Dannerman seemed immune. Dopey, held in the arms of one of the Docs, was babbling: 'Please, you must keep a weapon drawn and pointed at the terminal, in case one of the Horch machines follows. Why are you not listening to me? But it is urgent!'
And, though Dannerman had his gun in his hand-his own gun, not one of the now useless energy weapons-he was indeed not listening. He was looking around the Starlab corridor as though trying to get his bearings. 'Jimmy,' he snapped. 'Do you think you can find the astronaut return capsule? Go check it out. I want to know if it's still workable… and if you think you can fly it.'
'Sure,' Lin said, 'if that's what you want. But wouldn't it be easier to radio for a rescue ship?'
'Do you want to hang around here? Just do it. Go.' And as Lin went off Dopey was frantically demanding to know what was happening.
'But you can't just leave the terminal unguarded, Agent Dannerman! Have you not heard me? If one of those machines follows-'
'It won't,' Dannerman said grimly. 'Stand back.' He took aim at the closed door of the terminal and fired the whole clip.
'Now, that was foolish of you, Dan,' Rosaleen said gravely. 'How did you know they wouldn't ricochet around and kill us all?'
'I didn't,' Dannerman admitted. 'I guess I didn't think. But it looks like it worked.' The high-speed loads had gone right through the door, and from inside there was a crackling and a smell of something electrical burning. 'But let's make sure,' he said. 'Where's that bar you conked Jimmy with?'
Dopey gazed in horror as Dannerman methodically began to smash at the portal. 'No!' he screamed over the crash of metal. 'You mustn't! We'll be cut off from the Beloved Leaders until they send another drone, perhaps for many, many years!'
'So I hope,' Dannerman agreed. 'In fact I'm counting on it. The longer the better. If it's long enough, just maybe-the next time you guys come around to visit us-we'll know how to handle you.'
Later… much later, and a very long distance away…
Dan Dannerman saw the pale lavender flash; the door of thetachyon terminal opened and he leaped triumphantly out, eager to join the others in the safety of Starlab.
Startlingly, the others weren't there.
Still more Startlingly, he wasn't even in Starlab. He was in a place he'd never seen. A pair of the wheel-footed Horch machines were standing there, but they weren't shooting at him. Nor could he have fired back if they had; he had no gun in his hand. Behind him he heard the door cycle shut behind him, then open again. The disheveled figure of Dopey spilled out, catapulting into him. The little creature glared at him. Then, as he saw the quietly buzzing machines observing them, Dopey's plume turned woeful gray and he began to sob.
'What's happened?' Dannerman demanded. And, clutching at straws, 'Did we die? Is this your damn eschaton?'
Dopey stared at him mournfully: 'Eschaton? Oh, you are a great fool, Agent Dannerman! Of course we have not yet reached the eschaton. We simply have been copied once more… and now we are in the hands of the Horch.'
