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Raising the catwalk again wasn't easy. A rope had to be fastened to the bottom
end to gain additional leverage. Even then, it took all their combined
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strength to
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lift it. Once they had slid it back across the gulf, Huth ran to the other
side. From the shimmering air in the center of the pad, he could see the
passageway was still intact. The gate to Shadow World, however, had most
definitely closed.
"I need more power!" he shouted at the technicians.
"But, Dr. Huth," one of them protested, "if we try to energize the gate again,
we'll blow every grid on the planet."
Huth was in no mood for trifles. He leveled the tribarrel at the tech and
squeezed the trigger. The man jerked backward, arms flying up as a bolt of
green pierced his chest; behind him, a second before he crashed into it, a
computer monitor exploded in a shower of sparks. The body rolled off the front
of the workstation and dropped to the floor.
Someone pounded on the other side of the bulkhead door. Huth turned and saw a
black helmet peering at him through the glass. A gauntleted hand waved for him
to unlock the door.
"More power!" Huth repeated.
The technicians worked frantically to make it so.
An angry voice boomed from the intercom speaker set in the wall. "Dr. Huth,"
it said, "this is FIVE security. Open the door and stand down the procedure.
You have not been authorized to draw power."
The lights dimmed to nothing.
As they came back up, the amplified voice said, "This is your final warning!
Open the door!"
Huth had no intention of doing that. The glittering tornado had appeared on
the pad. He dropped the pulse rifle and started to run for it. Behind him
there was a whomp as the security team blew open the bulkhead door.
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"Stop where you are!" a voice shouted. "Stop or we'll fire!"
Sprinting, Huth had fifteen feet to go. He dived for the spiraling column of
air, but had the sickening realization that it was too far away, that he'd
never make it. He hit the concrete on his belly, and in anticipation of being
burned, he covered the back of his head with his hands. As he did so,
something rolled out of his lab coat pocket and clattered onto the pad. He
clutched for it without thinking.
Huth stared at the glass tube in his hand. In it was an intensely blue eye. At
this moment of his final defeat, Ryan Cawdor stared back, mocking him.
Then the room rocked, as the lips of reality split, then gaped. Chunks of the
ceiling rained around him and over his head, the tip of a white cone, six feet
across, appeared out of nowhere. With a terrible roar the huge missile
unrolled above him.
There was fear, pain, then blistering, yellow-white oblivion.
Epilogue
Sitting on a chair he'd rescued from under one of the fallen porches along
Moonboy's main street, Ryan watched Mildred throw more scraps of wood on her
cook fire. She'd already fed everybody once, and was starting in on seconds
for those who could handle them.
There was nothing quite like fresh mesquite-grilled rattlesnake, he thought,
raising the jug to his lips and taking a long swallow of air-temp beer.
Especially when the steaks were as big as a man's head and three inches thick.
Get that crispy charred crust on the outside and inside everything stays nice
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and moist. Kind of like chicken, with the texture of fish. He burped softly
and set down the jug.
Jak had taken Hylander and Ockerman over the ridge to collect their morning
meat. Hunting in the cool light just after daybreak was the ticket when
someone was after reptiles, no matter how big. Once the desert started to heat
up, snakes and their like got up a full head of steam.
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The men from the other Earth hadn't taken their pulse rifles along on the
hunt.
Ryan had been pleased when they took up the weapons dropped by the dead
cannies instead. They'd abandoned the tribarrels, along with the battlesuits,
in a pile in the middle of the street. There was no need for either in
Deathlands, nor for jump mines, which the colonel had promptly decommissioned.
While Mildred cooked seconds of snake, the companions and the visitors sat
together around the fire, drinking up the remaining stores of Moonboy's green
beer.
They'd started out talking amiably enough, like two groups of travelers who'd
met on the same stretch of road and decided to share a meal. Gradually, the
colonel and his crew had drawn back from the conversation. Now, when they
spoke, it was to one another. Ryan figured it was starting to hit home to them
what they'd done, and that what they'd left was gone forever.
The gulf between the earths was too wide to jump in a few hours, or a few
days, or even a few years. The memories and regrets would stay sharp, just
under the surface. He figured the colonel and his crew would be saying goodbye
before long, and going their separate ways.
Nara caught him staring at her. She smiled sadly, then looked away, poking at
the fire with a long stick.
Krysty came up from behind, slid her hands over his shoulders and leaned close
to his ear. "When are you going to tell me what happened between you and that
woman?'' she asked.
Ryan rose from the chair and turned.
"I need to know how jealous I should be," Krysty said, searching his face.
He put his hand on her chin, gently pulling her mouth onto his. He kissed her
tenderly for a long time before he drew back. Krysty's eyes were shining. As
he took her hand and started down the path between the vacant shanties, he
said, "I'll tell you all about it, after we make love."
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