Footfall

There was only a soft hiss, then a sudden rush of static. The officers at the command consoles burst into chatter again.

“What has happened?” Bondarev demanded.

“A high-altitude nuclear explosion. Perhaps more than one. The pulse effect has crippled our telephones,” Suvorov reported.

“I see.” And without communications — Bondarev felt rising panic. The scrambler phone was dead. “Get me Marshal Shavyrin.”

“There is no answer,” Suvorov said.

“It is vital. Use another means. Use any means,” Bondarev ordered. He fought to keep his voice calm. The scrambler telephone remains silent. Is the Chairman in communication with anyone else? Perhaps not. Perhaps we are safe.

“I have Shavyrin,” Colonel Suvorov said.

“Thank you.” Pavel put on the headset. “Comrade Marshal—”

“Da, Comrade Director?”

“Have you launched any missiles?”

“No, Comrade Director. I have received no instructions from the Defense Council.”

Bondarev discovered that he had been partially holding his breath. Now he let it out slowly. “You understand that the aliens have fired on Kosmograd?”

“Comrade Director, I know someone has. Two of my generals believe this a Western trick—”

“Nonsense, Comrade Marshal. You have seen that ship. Neither we nor the United States nor both nations working together could have built that ship.”

There was a long pause. Pavel heard someone speaking to the Marshal, but he could not make out the words. “Marshal,” Bondarev insisted, “that ship was not built on this Earth, and we know the United States ca

There was another long pause. Then Shavyrin said. “Perhaps you are correct. Certainly that is true. What must we do now?”

I wish I knew. “Immediately before the aliens destroyed Kosmograd, they launched many smaller ships. I say smaller, although they were each larger than Kosmograd. Have you had success in tracking any of those?”

“Only partially. Even with our largest radars it is difficult to see through the electronic storms in the upper atmosphere. The aliens have set off many weapons there.”

“I know—”

“Also, they have fired laser beams at three of our large radars,” Marshal Shavyrin said.

“Laser beams?”

“Da. The most powerful we have ever seen.”

“Damage?”

“The Abalakovo radar is destroyed. The Sary Shagan and Lyaki radars are damaged but survive. We have not activated the large radar near Moscow for fear that it will draw their fire.”

“I see.” Intelligent of him. “We will need information, but not at that cost. Now tell me what you know of their smaller ships.”

“My information is not complete. We have lost communications with many of our radars.”

“Da, but tell me what you have learned.”

“The ships have scattered. Most are in polar orbits.”

“Track them. If they come within range of the ion beam weapons, fire at them. Be prepared to fire SS-20 missiles under ground detonation control. Meanwhile, attack the main alien ship with the entire force of SS-18 missiles based in Kamensk.”

“Comrade Director, I require authorization from the Chairman before I can do any of this.”

“Comrade Marshal, the Chairman has directed me to conduct this battle. We have no communication with Moscow. You must launch your forces against the aliens, particularly their large mother ship. We must cripple it before it destroys us on the ground.”

“Comrade Director, that is not possible—”

“Comrade Marshal, it must be made possible—”

“If we attack the alien ship, we will destroy Kosmograd as well. And all survivors.”

A strange sentiment for the commander of strategic rocket forces. “Kosmograd is already destroyed. The survivors ca

“Comrade Director,” Colonel Suvorov shouted. “I have the Chairman.”

“Marshal, the Chairman is calling me. Please stand by.” Bondarev took the other phone.

There was no mistaking the thick voice. “Bondarev, what must we do?”

“Destroy the alien ship. I would prefer not to, but there is no choice.”

“Have the aliens attacked the United States?”

“Comrade Chairman, I do not know.”

“They have attacked us,” Chairman Petrovskiy said. “Can we defeat the aliens? Can we destroy their ship?”

“I do not know. We certainly ca

“Da. Try, then. Meanwhile, we will do what we can. There are reports of severe damage in the harbors. The rail center west of Moscow is in ruins. So is Brest Litovsk.”

“But …” Bondarev spoke in horror. “The Germans—”

“Da. The Germans may rise in revolt. The Poles as well.” The Chairman’s voice rose. “All the Warsaw Pact nations may rise against us. Our harbors are destroyed, harbors and rail centers. We face a new civil war. If the United States remains undamaged—”

“Comrade Chairman, I do not know that they are undamaged. I do know that we must destroy that ship. You must order Marshal Shavyrin to accept my orders to launch missiles at the alien.”

There was a long pause. “We must retain enough missiles to prevent the United States from attacking us now that we are weakened,” Petrovskiy said.

“Da. I will do that,” Bondarev said. “But if we do not act quickly, we ca

There was another long pause. Then “Da. I will give the orders. But — have a care, Pavel Aleksandrovich. Have a care.”

11. LIGHTS IN THE SKY

Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.

The air was foul and growing fouler; it was like being trapped inside a whale’s lungs. Giorge, gasping and coughing and fighting the soft walls, had finally fainted. The beach ball’s oxygen supply wasn’t designed for two occupants.

It was a hell of a situation in which to try to relax, but Wes tried: he held his breathing slow and steady (punctuated with coughing); he let his eyelids droop (though he had to watch that great armored city in the sky coming toward him!) Half curled toward fetal position, he consciously relaxed his muscles in pairs, as if he were fighting a night of insomnia.

All this, while traveling like a tethered balloon behind their massive inhuman captors.

Naked in the glare of the stars, helpless as a babe, Wes fell toward an alien artifact bigger than the World Trade Center. He saw detail as he neared the thing: a pod on a jointed arm, rectangles of blackness, a jet of blue flame from a cluster of cones. But the air was like soup. His nose was clogged with drying blood. Hold the breathing down, stay awake, there are things you have to see … no use. His chest heaved, a coughing fit wracked his body, and everything went out of focus.

Arvid Rogachev was finding a great deal to awe him, and not much to surprise him. A ship the size of a city: of course, if they hoped to conquer a planet! The aliens: very alien. The attack: why not? Whatever they expected from contact with humankind, it was their safest approach.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t angry.

How would they treat prisoners? Human precedent showed a wide spectrum … but wouldn’t they want to inspect the natives more closely? These attackers hadn’t had time to build up a hatred for the enemy, not yet. What they found alive, they would keep alive … unless they were xenophobic beyond sanity, or found the human shape intrinsically disgusting …

Still, a corpse dead of explosive decompression was not the ideal subject for dissection. Might they prefer a healthy Soviet executive?