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The Hour of Battle By: Robert Sheckley (1928-2005) |
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BY ROBERT SHECKLEY ILLUSTRATED BY KRENKEL
As one of the Guardian ships protecting Earth, the crew had a
problem to solve. Just how do you protect a race from an enemy who
can take over a man's mind without seeming effort or warning?
"That hand didn't move, did it?" Edwardson asked, standing at the port,
looking at the stars. "No," Morse said. He had been staring fixedly at the Attison Detector
for over an hour. Now he blinked three times rapidly, and looked again.
"Not a millimeter." "I don't think it moved either," Cassel added, from behind the gunfire
panel. And that was that. The slender black hand of the indicator rested
unwaveringly on zero. The ship's guns were ready, their black mouths
open to the stars. A steady hum filled the room. It came from the
Attison Detector, and the sound was reassuring. It reinforced the fact
that the Detector was attached to all the other Detectors, forming a
gigantic network around Earth. "Why in hell don't they come?" Edwardson asked, still looking at the
stars. "Why don't they hit?" "Aah, shut up," Morse said. He had a tired, glum look. High on his right
temple was an old radiation burn, a sunburst of pink scar tissue. From a
distance it looked like a decoration. "I just wish they'd come," Edwardson said. He returned from the port to
his chair, bending to clear the low metal ceiling. "Don't you wish
they'd come?" Edwardson had the narrow, timid face of a mouse; but a
highly intelligent mouse. One that cats did well to avoid. [Illustration] "Don't you?" he repeated. The other men didn't answer. They had settled back to their dreams,
staring hypnotically at the Detector face. "They've had enough time," Edwardson said, half to himself. Cassel yawned and licked his lips. "Anyone want to play some gin?" he
asked, stroking his beard. The beard was a memento of his undergraduate
days. Cassel maintained he could store almost fifteen minutes worth of
oxygen in its follicles. He had never stepped into space unhelmeted to
prove it. Morse looked away, and Edwardson automatically watched the indicator.
This routine had been drilled into them, branded into their
subconscious. They would as soon have cut their throats as leave the
indicator unguarded. "Do you think they'll come soon?" Edwardson asked, his brown rodent's
eyes on the indicator. The men didn't answer him. After two months
together in space their conversational powers were exhausted. They
weren't interested in Cassel's undergraduate days, or in Morse's
conquests. They were bored to death even with their own thoughts and dreams, bored
with the attack they expected momentarily. "Just one thing I'd like to know," Edwardson said, slipping with ease
into an old conversational gambit. "How far can they do it?" They had talked for weeks about the enemy's telepathic range, but they
always returned to it. As professional soldiers, they couldn't help but speculate on the enemy
and his weapons. It was their shop talk. "Well," Morse said wearily, "Our Detector network covers the system out
beyond Mars' orbit." "Where we sit," Cassel said, watching the indicators now that the others
were talking. "They might not even know we have a detection unit working," Morse said,
as he had said a thousand times. "Oh, stop," Edwardson said, his thin face twisted in scorn. "They're
telepathic. They must have read every bit of stuff in Everset's mind." "Everset didn't know we had a detection unit," Morse said, his eyes
returning to the dial. "He was captured before we had it." "Look," Edwardson said, "They ask him, 'Boy, what would you do if you
knew a telepathic race was coming to take over Earth? How would you
guard the planet?'" "Idle speculation," Cassel said. "Maybe Everset didn't think of this." "He thinks like a man, doesn't he? Everyone agreed on this defense.
Everset would, too." "Syllogistic," Cassel murmured. "Very shaky." "I sure wish he hadn't been captured," Edwardson said. "It could have been worse," Morse put in, his face sadder than ever... Continue reading book >>
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Literature |
Science |
Short stories |
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