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  When Ivsera reacted to this by staring at him in horror, he laughed—bitterly and briefly.

  "But just get the final picture: only eight years after the last war on Isan, all that's left is a question of who eats whom! That's the fact you may rely on!"

  2/ THE STRANGER WITH THE WHITE EYEBALLS

  Killarog had a plan.

  It was a bold one and it entailed considerable risk. For this reason it took every bit of Killarog's arts of persuasion to sell his idea to the Council.

  The Council authorized eight men to accompany him and granted him the use of nine protective radiation suits plus almost half of the weapons that were available in the Fenomat bunker. In addition, based on Killarog's advice, three men were posted on guard duty at the surface bunker locks. These three and Killarog's detail of men each carried a portable, self-powered radio pack.

  Killarog's goal was the surface locks of the Sallon bunker. The time of attack: that moment in which they received news by radio that the Sallon troops had broken through into the Fenomat bunker.

  The Council imposed just one condition: Killarog was to return at once if he learned that his force was inadequate for success. In that case his weapons would be needed more urgently in Fenomat than at the ground locks of Sallon.

  Killarog searched out the men who were to accompany him. In spite of his youth he was respected throughout the bunker and in contrast to the normal sluggishness of spirit that marked the survivors of the Great War of Isan everyone was immediately ready to join Killarog in the dangerous undertaking.

  Three hours after the Council meeting, Killarog had collected his crew but only a half hour before this Ivsera had learned of his plan through Irvin, who was one of the eight who had been selected.

  She traced down Killarog and launched a one-hour discussion to explain why she had to accompany him on this mission in the place of one of the eight men. Her main argument was that if they actually succeeded in breaking into the Sallon bunker then somebody would have to be present who could determine at first glance where any sources of food were.

  In spite of this, Ivsera's importunities might have been in vain had Irvin not finally taken her part. "Take her with you, Killarog," he recommended. "Otherwise she'll never forgive you. Besides, her point is valid. So I will resign in her favor."

  It was safe for Irvin to make such an offer because he was widely recognized as being an outstanding exception to the general characteristic of passivity and indolence.

  Killarog finally agreed. He was half angry and half amused when he spoke to her. "Young lady, you know I suspect you of harboring some very idealistic concepts when it comes to the laws of human nature and also when it comes to these very 'lovely' people of Sallon. So if you get shot waving a peace flag at them, I'll chalk it up to your childish instincts."

  Ivsera had not revealed her basic reason: that she was tired of sitting around inactively in the bunker, passively accepting everything that happened. She was convinced that everyone who still had a shred of strength in them was duty bound to contribute something. And it mustn't always be something that guaranteed success. It had to be something that persisted in demonstrating that the survivors of the Great War were not just so many playthings of Fate.

  • • •

  After an hour-long trip in the main elevator to ascend the mile-deep shaft, it was night when Killarog and his commando squad finally reached the surface lock of the Fenomat bunker.

  In the lock they put on the anti-radiation suits. Killarog operated the necessary controls and Ivsera took it as a good omen when everything worked as it was supposed to.

  In their departure from the lock, Killarog forced a mood of grimness and was as harsh as possible with his commands in order to discourage any transport of sentimentalism. For five of the nine people it was the first time in eight years that they had stepped upon the surface. of their home world of Isan.

  Close above the western horizon, Ivsera saw the giant red ball of their sun, Wilan. She sought to determine whether or not Wilan had changed at all since the war. But Wilan was as big and red as ever before. A few pockmarks were discernible here and there on its surface and the great glowing sphere spread more warmth than brightness.

  The stars hung near in a dark red sky. Between the stars, Ivsera observed isolated feathery traces of misty light. She knew that these vapor-like areas were in turn made up of many suns which were infinitely far away and that these nebulous formations of stars represented a stellar system that the astronomers referred to as the Misty Way.

  She could hardly suppress her excitement. She appealed to her reason and attempted to be convinced that even after eight years of subterranean existence it should not be so special to glimpse a few stars.

  But she did not succeed. As in a dream she stumbled through the desolation of ruins that the bomb and the wind had made of the once proud city of Fenomat. Only after Killarog's third admonishment was she able to pull herself together and concentrate on the task that lay before her.

  • • •

  From the Fenomat main shaft to the ground lock of Sallon, the distance was five miles. eight years ago it would have been possible to cover this stretch in a passenger bus or a rental car and this would have required at the most three-quarters of an hour. Now, however, in this pathless and dangerous wilderness and weighed down with heavy protective suits, it was a whole day's march.

  After five hours Killarog called the first halt for a rest. They found themselves in an area of the rubble waste where the radiation was curiously only about half as intense as normal. Nobody could explain it but at any rate it was an ideal place for a rest.

  The first bright blue glimmerings of the new day appeared above the southern horizon. Wilan's dull light and the powerful blue flood of illumination streaming over the southern horizon produced an unusual coloration in the sky. The stars paled gradually in the brightness of Wilanet, the small blue sun which was Isan's actual central star.

  "We've now covered half the distance," announced Killarog. "From now on we have to keep our eyes open. The Sallon people aren't as dumb as you may have heard. It's possible it could have occurred to them that we might attack them from above."

  While the brightness increased, Ivsera tried to recognize what area of the former city they were in. She knew that halfway from down town to the suburb of Sallon the Avenue of the Feno-Kings was located. In that street were the most prominent and expensive stores where her mother used to come shopping twice a year—once on her wedding anniversary and a second time on Ivsera's birthday. She knew that broad, massive, old-fashioned houses had stood here.

  But now there was not even a foundation standing. The city had been flattened. Fragments of stone were lying about but one couldn't tell by looking at them whether they were natural stone or pieces of what might have once been masonry.

  The ground was covered with grass—but what kind of grass! The stems, once dainty and slender, now pushed up in a thick, fleshy growth to half the height of a man. Mutation, thought Ivsera. The radiation had altered the genetic characteristics of the grass.

  And not only the grass. Shortly before resuming the march, they saw a long-legged beetle creeping through the tall stems. Although the grass grew more than hip deep, they saw the giant insect. In spite of its typically jointed and bent legs, the long, slender body was about four feet off the ground. Its body was also about four feet long.

  The largest beetle in existence before the war would hardly have covered the palm of one's hand.

  One of the men raised his weapon and was about to shoot the repugnant creature but Killarog struck down the gun barrel and shouted angrily at him. "Stop it, you fool! Do you want everybody to know where we are?"

  When they set out again on their trek, Killarog turned to the northeast. He felt that it was too big a risk to make a direct approach to Sallon. Instead, he preferred to take a devious route, even at the cost of two extra hours, so that he might approach the Sallon bunker from an angle that was least expected.

  The portable radios had remained silent with the exception of one short message received from Ther: "We can hear them plainly now without any amplifier. I'd say you've got about five or six hours... then they'll be here. We estimate that they'll be coming through somewhere in the lowest level."

  Ivsera thought of Havan. In spite of her resentment toward him, it was not a pleasant prospect to imagine that he might be captured by the Sallon people.

  In view of Ther's message, Killarog pushed everyone to a faster pace. Several times he checked to see if Ivsera was doing all right but since she had determined to take her destiny in hand she seemed to know no fatigue.

  Wilanet rose high into a white sky and spread its heat, which was the more difficult to bear because no shadows were cast across the grassy plain where the city had been.

  After a short rest about halfway into the morning, Killarog ordered a complete silence between all personnel. The transceivers in their radiation suits operated at an extremely high frequency and though it would be a minor miracle if the Sallon monitors happened to pick up their conversations, such a possibility had to be reckoned with.

  Killarog gave orders that only the most urgent communications should be made, and even then, if possible, without using the transmitters. In other words, helmet to helmet contact.

  The region now began to rise gradually and Ivsera remembered that the suburb of Sallon was located on the southwestern slope of a hill. At least, she thought, the Bomb had not been able to flatten the ridge too.

  Toward noon they reached the crest of the rise without having seen a single man from Sallon thus far. Killarog was very pleased about it but Ivsera had her doubts. However, since she trusted Killarog more than herself in the tactical aspects of this civil war, sh
e remained silent.

  The entrance or ground lock of the Sallon bunker was on the northeastern slope of the hill. In contrast to all other bunkers, the lateral access passages did not lead vertically downward to the main corridors but horizontally through the hillside.

  The Sallon ground lock was marked by a stone, barracks-like edifice that stood lonely and deserted in the noonday glare of Wilanet. Heatwaves shimmered over the ground. The land had an aspect of not having been inhabited by humans for eight years. The grass on the northeast side of the hill was somewhat shorter than they had seen it in the city. From the eastern horizon, the Ovial River wound its tortuous course. The woodlands formerly marking its bed were now gone. As far as the eye could see were desolate savannahs of mutated grass.

  Killarog paid no attention to the unusual view. Through the clear viewplate of his helmet Ivsera could see his eyes light up when the Sallon ground-lock building became discernible.

  "We are here!" he announced, in such loud tones that Ivsera, lying next to him, could hear him through the coverings of two helmets. "As soon as Ther gives the signal, we will attack!"

  • • •

  A few hours prior to this, in a place not far distant from Fenomat, an elliptically-shaped spaceship had landed on the broad grass plain.

  The ship's crew had determined that the atmosphere, ground and oceans of the planet were charged with a dangerous level of radioactivity. At various places on the planet's surface they had discovered the rubble remains of cities and it was easy to conclude that this entire world had been laid waste by nuclear warfare and that for the most part the population must have been destroyed.

  The egg-shaped vessel had landed in an area where the radiation yield was about 10 times less than normal; it seemed to be a circular, closely demarcated spot. Of course the 4-man crew was much better equipped with protective gear than Killarog and his party, who were about nine miles away without having noticed the ship; however, the craft's commander was in the habit of weighing his decisions in favor of the greatest possible safety. Thus, instead of landing haphazardly where the average 'hot' yield was 100 rems per hour, he chose a place where it appeared to be reduced by a factor of 10.

  Measuring 60 by 100 feet, the spaceship was equipped with apparatuses that Killarog or Ivsera, would not have been able to comprehend. They wouldn't have thought it possible that such things could ever have existed in the history of all galactic intelligences.

  Something perhaps more understandable, although complex and capable of exciting the admiration of all high-frequency technicians on Isan, was a frequency detection device which could sort out and isolate all frequencies received by its multiple receivers. Then, accompanied by mathematically programmed instructions, it fed such messages into a positronic computer which accordingly decoded them or, if its register banks of vocabulary were sufficient, it could completely translate an alien language into that of the ship's crew.

  By this means, the conversations between Killarog and his companions had been registered and translated. It was soon determined on board the ship that the language of Isan—at least the one they had picked up—revealed a strong similarity to one that was not that of the crew but which they all understood very well.

  The ship's commander then utilized the remaining time he considered to have at his disposal, in order to, make use of a device that belonged in the 'miracle' category. So that he might complete the knowledge he required, he proceeded first of all to assimilate the language of Killarog and his people.

  • • •

  The hours passed in unbearable boredom. Ivsera noticed when she kept staring at the stone building of the ground lock that at times her eyes played tricks on her, making her think that the edifice was disappearing or sinking into the ground.

  The only relief during the long wait was the fact that the heat began to subside gradually. Wilanet had passed its zenith and now moved northward. The grass began to make shade.

  Ivsera considered it suspicious that not a single person of Sallon showed himself in the vicinity of the ground lock. She spoke to Killarog about it and in order to be heard better she took the risk of opening her helmet.

  But Killarog dismissed the idea with a smile. "Don't worry, girl. For eight long years no one has seen anybody in the area of the Fenomat ground lock, either. So why should we expect to catch sight of anybody at Sallon in a few short hours?"

  Ivsera wanted to retort that, the Sallon people undoubtedly were more active than the men of Fenomat. Apropos of this was the fact that a Fenomat ground party had been routed just a few days ago by heavily armed men from Sallon. One couldn't compare Sallon with Fenomat.

  But she preferred to be silent. For the time being she felt inhibited from expressing herself on things that seemed to be strictly the affair of the men.

  Wilanet sank below the horizon and then the red ball of Wilan appeared, rising slowly into a darkened sky transformed by the stars. The host of stars grew in number until they formed a closely woven carpet of cold fire across the night sky.

  Then Ther gave the signal. Ivsera heard his excited voice quite clearly in her radio receiver:

  "They've broken through! As we expected, they've come out in the lowest level. They're heavily armed and we don't know how much longer we can hold out! Do what you can for Fenomat!"

  It didn't sound very encouraging but Killarog seemed to be undaunted. He straightened up to his full height and shouted loud enough for everyone to hear him without the aid of their helmet transceivers: "Okay, let's go!"

  They moved down the hillside in a half-stumbling run. In the dark red gloom the ground-lock edifice loomed before them. It did not have any windows. It was impossible to tell whether it was manned or if the Sallon people really had no suspicion of what was impending.

  It also seemed foolhardy and puzzling to Ivsera that Killarog didn't spend much time checking out the area first. He placed explosive charges on both sides of the ponderous frame that supported the massive metal doors and in his battle fervor only retreated a short distance before the charges exploded.

  Both wings of the door imploded inward. Mixed with the roar of the two explosions was the rumble of the heavy steel frame girders as they crashed to the ground.

  With his weapon in firing position, Killarog plunged through the cloud of dust. He had turned on his helmet transmitter again and shouted: "Forward! The lock is empty! Charge!"

  The inner lock chamber was smaller than that of Fenomat. The inner access door was opened without effort and Killarog entered without hesitation. He ordered the last man in to close it behind them.

  He let out a cry of triumph when he saw the light indicators for the main elevator. At this moment the lift was stationed at the level of the ground lock. He had only to open it and—

  When Ivsera saw him reach for the control button, she cried out: "Stop! Think a minute before you jump into the fire! That has to be a trap. We haven't come across a single human here today and in spite of that the main lift has been left at this level..."

  "So what!" Killarog interrupted her gruffly. "Don't get in my way, girl. In a few minutes we'll have the whole bunker in our hands!"

  He hit the call button and the elevator door rolled to one side. He was about to plunge into the lift cabin but at the first step he came to a stop as though he had run into an invisible wall. With a hoarse shout he aimed his pistol and fired at the group of men who stood with raised weapons inside the lift.

  He didn't get very far. He was met with an answering fire and soon crumpled down in the cross hail of machine-pistol bursts. In the narrow confines of the lock chamber the enemy barrage wounded five more men from Fenomat. Ivsera saw them topple. Her two remaining companions threw down their weapons and pressed against the wall, crying out in their distress.