Battlefield Earth

“No,” said Jo

“But with no tanks-' said the parson.

“They never exploded!” said Jo

“How did you guess this?” said the historian.

Jo

Other groups had sensed something was happening. They began drifting over.

Jo

“I wondered where they sent all the uranium they'd mined. I knew it must be somewhere....”

The parson touched his arm, not wanting him to run into a future failure with a crash. “They would not have it in the base, laddie.”

“But the base records will tell us where it is!” said Jo

Angus had been staring at the sketch. "Ooh!" he was saying to himself. “Land mines! And I was just going to burrow in!”

Robert the Fox was already gathering up those in charge to begin their expedition to the tomb.

The historian was diving for references that would tell them the perils of entering tombs.

“Don't fret, laddie," said the parson to Jo

Part X

Chapter 1

The doors were cracked open, just as he had left them so many years ago. Lying there, crusted with snow but just where he had dropped it, was the iron bar he had used to open the doors. The smell might or might not be there, for he was now wearing an air mask.

They had left just as soon as they could see to fly, and Jo

The calm voice of Robert the Fox was directing them: “Have you got the lamps? Check out the spare air bottles. Where is Daniel? Easy with those explosives....”

A Scot came up with a sledge hammer to open the door wider and Angus rushed over and pushed him aside. “No. No. No. 'Tis just wanting a bit of penetrating oil.” Angus was popping the bottle of an oilcan. His voice sounded muffled through the air mask.

They were all getting air masks on. The historian had found it was very unhealthy to enter tombs. Something called “spores” sometimes came off bone dust of the long dead and made a man cough his lungs out.

“Mind if I slip in first, Jo

Jo

They all stood for a moment, looking down the steps, awed.

On this graveyard of a planet, they were no strangers to dead remains. They lay in structures and basements in abundance wherever there was any protection from wild animals or the weather, corpses more than a thousand years dead.

But reaching down this long flight of stairs were the remains of several hundred men. Protected from the air until a dozen years ago, their clothing, arms, and equipment were somewhat preserved, but the bones had gone to powder.

“They fell forward,” said Robert the Fox. “Must have been a regiment marching in. See? These two fellows at the top of the steps must have been closing the doors.”

“The gas,” said Jo

“Wiped the place out,” said Robert the Fox. “Listen, all of you. Don't go in there without a tight air mask.”

“We ought to bury these men,” said the parson. “They each have little tags on them,” he picked one up. " 'Knowlins, Peter, Private USMC No. 35473524. Blood Type B.' "

“Marines,” said the historian. “We've got a military base here all right.”

“Do you suppose,” said the parson to Jo

“The village has been rebuilt a dozen times,” said Jo

“Remember your priorities,” said Robert to the group. “Inventory only. Don't touch records until they're identified. This is a big place. Don't stray or get lost.”

“We ought to bury these bodies,” said the parson.

“We will, we will,” said Robert. “All in good time. Gu

Five Scots carrying submachine guns raced down the steps, alert for bears or snakes in hibernation or stray wolves.

“Ventilation team, stand by,” said Robert, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the three assigned to carry the heavy mine ventilation fans were there and ready.

There was an uneven burst of fire below. The sub-Thompson ammunition was dud two rounds out of five, and to get a sustained burst one had to recock the bolt in mid-fire.

Robert's small limited-range radio crackled. “Rattlesnakes. Four. All dead. End com.”

“Aye,” said Robert the Fox into the mike.

There was another ragged burst of fire.

The radio crackled. “Brown bear. Hibernating. Dead. End com.”

“Aye,” said Robert.

“Second set of doors, tight locked.”

“Explosives team,” Robert called over his shoulder.

"Naw, naw!" said Angus. “We may need those doors!”

“Go ahead,” said Robert. “Belay explosives team, but stand by.” Into the mike, “Mechanic en route.”

They waited. The radio crackled. “Doors open.” A pause. “Area beyond seems airtight. Probably no hostile animals beyond. End com.”

“Ventilation team. Forward,” said Robert.

The last man on that team was carrying a cage of rats.

Presently a current of air began to come out of the tomb.

The radio crackled: “Rats still alive. End com.”

“There you are, MacTyler," said

Robert.

Jo