The Shadow of Alpha, page 11
“Go ahead,” Parric said to Peg, who looked to him, confused. “I’ll be up in a second. There’s something I want to do.”
She balked a moment more, then hurried to catch up with the others.
The landcar creaked as it settled into the cool air pushed by the wind, and he kicked at it once before grabbing handfuls of debris and scattering it over the roof. He worked rapidly, faster, until he was running with bushes yanked by their roots, throwing, arranging, nearly crying in frustration when the car refused to disappear. He imagined Ike’s face set into the ground and crushed it with as big a rock as he could lift. He ran into the road, looked forward and back, his arms spread to catch whatever might come his way; and when he tired, he climbed, slowly and carelessly, no longer worrying that he might be heard.
“Hey!” And he looked up.
Jessica was standing in the now-familiar cleared area in from the barrier. Parric felt the hair on his arms lift and knew the Town’s protection was still activated. A good sign, and he instantly regretted how childishly he’d acted, mutely thanking the women for not mentioning it or asking what had taken him so long.
“Come on, Frank,” Peg said, coming partway down to meet him, taking his arm and pulling. “Jess already let Ike in. We were waiting for you.”
“Good, thanks,” he said, and in a minute was standing at the end of a street that could have been his own except for the houses: they were burned out, on the right charred and splintered, on the left totally destroyed with only a few contorted beams standing. Planks and grotesquely convoluted lengths of metal were strewn on the lawns and tarmac. Parric’s elation drained as he walked with the women, keeping well away from wreckage still smoldering.
“Where’s Ike?” he said when they’d covered the four blocks, seeing the clinic the only building undamaged.
Jessica shrugged, was mirrored by Peg.
“All right, then,” he said, “he’s probably taking some damned pictures. For history. Let’s get the bad news over with first,” and he moved quickly up the walk to the clinic door, pushed and stepped inside. The building was empty even of its furniture, but he nodded, pleased, that someone had had the foresight to disable the diagunit.
“It’s okay,” he said, returning to the front door. “We’ll look around and see if we can’t scrounge something to use for mattresses and we can sleep in here tonight. I doubt we’ll find any food, but we can try.”
A shout brought him around in a circle. Ike was running out of a house a block away. “In there,” he called, but held up his palms when they started toward him. “It must be like when Doc went into the other one,” he said, deliberately shuddering, then grinning broadly at Parric. “Like a mess of toys in a madhouse. There must be nearly twenty of them.”
Parric frowned. “Wait a minute. Twenty?”
“Maybe a few more, why?”
“My Town wasn’t much bigger, and I had forty-seven.”
“Missing,” Peg said, standing closer to him. “Some of them must have gotten out.”
“No, they didn’t,” Ike said and pointed behind them.
There were four, all males, standing shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the street just beyond the clinic. Their hair was gone, their clothes torn or singed off, leaving splotches of black on their skin. Their faces were blank, but Parric knew they were looking at him.
“Frank?” It was Peg, and he realized these were probably the first she had ever seen.
“Ike,” he said without turning around, “there’s some metal lying in the street. Kick something good-sized to me, and find a chunk for yourself.” He heard a footstep. “And take it slow. Very.”
To cover Lupozny’s movements, he took a step forward toward the androids, scanning them for signs of weakness. But there was nothing external, aside from their nakedness, that gave him cause for hope. And without their hair and the humanoid characteristics animation gave them, they easily could have been Fabor, or Dorski, or even Willard Dix.
“Frank—”
“Shut up, Jess.” He heard a scraping, felt something strike the back of his foot. Carefully he worked it around in front of him without looking down, praying it was at least sturdy enough to swing like a club. “All right,” he said softly, “when I start talking, I want you women to move very carefully to the nearest barrier edge. If you have to, run, and for God’s sake, don’t come back.”
“What about us?” Ike whispered, and Parric grinned.
“Two little Davids,” he said.
“And people wonder why I’m gray before forty.”
There was nothing but a subdued and swirling wind. It was getting dark, but Parric had seen the shattered globes of the streetlamps and knew there would be no light once the sun had gone.
“You,” he said suddenly to the androids. “I require your presence in the clinic.”
A wooden pop and a single spark fluttered before dying.
“I said, I require your presence at the clinic!” The android on the right stirred.
“I need it now!”
The center pair began to walk forward, their arms loose at their sides, their feet like heavy shoes on the street. The first shuffled sideways toward the clinic, the last remained motionless.
Thirty paces separated them when Parric reached down to pick up a blackened, thick section of a pole; as he straightened, he motioned Ike to his side.
“Eyes and hips,” he said, trying to wipe perspiration from his palm onto his trousers. “Anyplace else won’t do a damned bit of good. Eyes first!” And he leaped to one side when the androids broke into a sprint, their arms outstretched, their hands grasping.
Impaired! Parric thought buoyantly and swung the pole as hard as he could, striking the nearest android square across the chest and upsetting its balance. Parric’s hand stung so badly he wanted to cry out, recovering in time to shatter the face of the one Ike had tripped up.
In silence.
Whirling.
The pair’s survivor regained its feet and grabbed at Ike’s wrist. Lupozny screamed over the crack of bone and, for the first time, one of the women screamed in turn. Parric watched, stunned, until the little man’s agony broke through his haze and he jabbed frantically at the android’s eyes, blinding it but not making it loosen its grip. Ike was on his knees, his weapon useless and dangling from his entrapped hand. The android fumbled with its other hand but Parric crushed it before shifting behind and swinging wildly at its hips, the casing of its most vital mechanisms. He felt the give of metal beneath the pseudoflesh, felt too the babbling of Ike’s anguish. The android was moving and Parric had to dance away from its lashing feet. He tried to disable the other arm but too often came too close to hitting Ike. Again he launched the pole at the hips, nearly sobbing when he spotted the motionless android stir and come at him. The fourth he could not see.
And silence yet another time.
Ike limp in the android’s grasp, unconscious and being dragged blindly away.
Peg and Jessica reached for whatever weapons they could find and began striking it, the jagged edges of metal and wood ripping into the skin. The android kicked at Ike’s head, missing in its blindness, missing again when it used its crushed hand as a club to fend off the women.
Parric waited until the last moment before diving at the now running android’s legs, spilling it, rolling to his feet and battering its face until he was sure it too could no longer see.
Jessica called out and he ran back to Ike, grabbing his arm and trying to pull it loose. The android stopped, kicked, and caught Peg on the thigh, knocking her sobbing to the ground. As Parric circled, hoping to crack the arm at the elbow, Jessica made a grab for its legs, screaming when she was kicked into Parric, the both of them entangling.
Then the android lifted Ike with its one good hand, began to spin until Lupozny was clear of the ground before letting go and thudding him against a tree.
Jessica, who had reached her feet first, made an animal-like snarl, and would have leaped upon the android if Parric hadn’t grabbed her by the waist.
“To Ike,” he said. “Get Peg and go to Ike.” Then he pushed her away and hefted the pole as he staggered toward the blind creature that was stumbling over the debris in the street. One of its legs was stiff, the other barely functioning.
One more, Parric thought, if I could have just one more.
There were three, trapped in a darkened world their manmade sense could not adjust to, wandering, making sounds that resembled inhuman whimpers, one breaking into an anguished screech that immediately reminded Parric of the night his house exploded. Two circled in front of the clinic, their hands raised toward the sky. Parric came upon behind the one that had battled with Ike and swung, pushing his body into the metal that cracked against its hip and spun out of his hands. The android went to its knees and Parric, crying, kicked at its back, wishing for the scalpel to tear at its insides. Heedless of the android’s attempts to grab his legs, he picked up anything his hands would close upon and threw, stabbed, clawed, and raked until he could stand no longer and fell backward.
A choking, then, and he raised his head. The android had fallen onto its face, was hunched and crawling like a broken grub.
“Frank, over here!”
He pushed himself to his feet, not at all sure he could stand, and allowed the weight of his torso to carry him in Jessica’s direction where he slumped onto the ground next to Ike, whose head was cradled in her lap. “What about the others?” Peg said, looking fearfully toward the clinic.
“They’ll wait,” he said. “What about Ike?”
“History,” Ike said weakly, only his hair visible in the darkness.
“You got it,” Parric said, was about to reach for a hand when he bent and saw Ike’s eyes close, his chest stop heaving.
“Hell,” Jessica said flatly.
While the androids whimpered at the waxing moon.
Chapter 9
With the needled jabs of scrapes and bruises splitting into his remorse, he watched as Jessica brushed back a darkly matted strand of hair from Ike’s forehead and lifted from his belt the tricorder he hadn’t used. Her breath caught on the jagged edge of anguish, would have torn into keening if Peg hadn’t taken her by the shoulders and made her stand. Parric looked up and watched as they embraced, his thoughts running in search of a direction, focusing finally on the androids still weaving, seemingly drunkenly, in front of the clinic.
Standing, he dryly scrubbed his face and neck, knowing little time had passed, feeling years settle onto the hillside from the silver-gray glow of stars and moon. Too much, he thought, and picked up a severed charred beam. He walked down the street, his eyes seeing nothing but the demonic dance of the mechanisms he had once thought to equate with men; and in thinking, stopped, remembering on the crest of renewed energy, the fourth android, the one he had ordered into the clinic. Skirting the helpless pair, he angled toward the front, trying to see into the black windows, but other than wind and whimpering, there were no signs that he and the women had further company. Cautiously he tapped aside the door with the beam, listening again until he pushed off the wall and stepped inside, suddenly blinded by the lack of light, then seeing only the square of the back room window through the connecting passage. He slid his feet along the bare floor, half crouching in expectation, the beam lightly balanced in both palms.
And still he was alone.
The examination room was empty, and he was puzzled, refusing to allow himself to panic when he decided the android had only temporarily obeyed him. And immediately his body shouted protests against the beating it had taken, warning him he was mortal and not likely to win again.
Into the backyard, then, searching as he crossed the grass for shadows that moved against the wind. But once back on the main street, he relaxed and dragged his wooden weapon on the ground behind him.
“Frank?”
“It’s all right, Peg, it’s me,” he said loudly, and saw his mistake when the two androids in front turned toward him. He stepped into a trot. “Where’s Jess?”
“Here, Frank,” Jessica said, and he saw Peg’s outline split in two.
“Let’s go,” he said, beckoning. “We can’t stay here.” He pointed. “Those two will be wandering around all night looking for us.”
“But what about—”
“Jess, we can’t stay.”
He took her arm and pulled, gently. Peg hurried ahead of them, her arms outstretched until they bent suddenly at the elbows.
“Here,” she said, and when Jessica only stood immobile, Parric fished in her breast pocket and pulled out the patchkey. Handing it to Peg, he turned to watch the androids, saw that the one he had brought to the ground was rounding the corner, still on its face, still hunching in a lopsided caterpillar crawl.
“Come on!” Peg said, and he vented his mourning frustration by heaving the beam toward them before stepping through the disturbance to catch Jessica as she began to fall. She was heavy, and his arms trembled as he lifted and carried her through the remaining screens. Peg watched him stagger awkwardly and helped him shift Jessica over his shoulder before they descended the slope to lie on the ground next to the landcar.
From faint to sleep, Jessica remained still, and Peg stretched out beside her while Parric roused himself to sit with his back against their vehicle. Above them, faintly, they could hear high-pitched calls rising from the Town.
“They miss us,” he said, dropping his head to rest on arms he had folded across his knees.
“There were four, Frank.”
“I know. I don’t know where the other one went. Maybe it fell off a cliff.”
“Frank, is that what they’re like?”
“No,” he said, surprised at himself. “As a matter of fact, they’re not. They’ve become infected, and no one could have anticipated such a thing happening. Normally they’re really quite likable. Most of them, anyway.”
“You liked them better than people.”
“Who told you a thing like that?” He looked up, trying to see her expression.
“Jess.”
“Oh.” He lowered his head again. “To be honest, I guess I did. But it wasn’t so much I dislike people that I had no use for them.”
“I don’t believe that. You should have seen your face when Ike died, and when you were trying to help me back there.”
“I wasn’t all that much help, you know. Jess—”
“You were there, and you didn’t try to hurt me.” In the darkness her voice grew younger, and younger still, until he remembered, vaguely, a child he had once seen on a Phillayork walkway: he had been on the medium speed, obviously traveling alone, and he had talked to himself in a low, frightened voice. The adults around him smiled at one another, but none, including Parric, had offered to open a conversation with the boy. When Parric had stepped onto the slowdown, he had paused to watch the child, lost him when crowds shifted to vanish him as though he had never been.
“Are we going to be all right?”
Were you all right, small boy?
“Frank, are you awake?”
“Barely,” he said, smiling to himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. Don’t be.”
“It’s just that so much has been going on, I think I’m afraid to close my eyes. I might wake up and you two will be gone.”
“Without you? Listen, the first time I saw you, back on the road, the first thing I thought was that this girl needs a good lesson in how to bathe properly. How, I wondered, had she managed to survive all the time looking like that, for crying out loud? Also, I have to admit, I knew someone would have to carry me when the stupid car breaks down. Despite my superhuman appearance, you see, I’m really just a nobody. Hey, are you listening to me?”
He pushed away from the car, saw that she had pressed herself against Jessica and was sleeping. All right, he said silently, I can take the hint. He returned to where he had been sitting and lay down by the wheel, cupping his hands behind his head and watching the sky’s rotunda darken, lighten, and blind him with sunlight.
Peg and Jessica were already awake, waiting for him. When he groaned, sitting up in spite of the rods that had been jammed into his back and arms, they helped him to his feet, oddly silent, and he frowned. Peg was evidently much better after her night’s rest. She had tried to reassemble her clothes into a semblance of decorum, having brushed away much of the clinging dirt and leaves though her elbows and knees were still stained a brown-green and her back was traced with black where she had fallen the night before. As he looked at the single-piece, once-white outfit while she swept his feeble camouflage from the land-car, he wondered if she had ever worn a skirt and then, unaccountably to himself, hoped Jess would forgive him the thought.
And Jessica, though asked, did not help her. She stood to one side, watching mutely. She was as ragged as the others, but her face echoed only her own grief. He remembered how soft it had been when first she arrived, saw now that it had hardened, incipient lines tracking from her mouth and eyes; there were purple-black discolorations blotching her cheeks and forehead, and dirt smeared where she had tried to rub it off. The tie in her hair had snapped, and each strand was a string. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her, and she didn’t move when he lifted them in his own.
“Jess,” he said, “we have to go.”
“We talked,” she said, “while you were sleeping.” Her voice, at least, had not changed from the zephyred whisper. “We decided … well, we thought about what …” She lifted her face briefly to the sun and would not meet his eyes. “We talked about what Ike had said, and about what you had said, and we think we should go to your friend.”
Parric dropped her hands. “I could be wrong, you know. Ike might have been right, and everything’s all right.”
“Stop it!” she said, suddenly angry, and Parric recoiled at the prospect of a slap. “I’m tired and I don’t want to make up my own mind anymore. Damn it, Frank, you’re not a clerk anymore.”
