She watched him with frightened eyes as he took a single clumsy step forward.
"Help me," he said.
She hesitated; her eyes got wider, and then she ran down the corridor away from him.
He watched her stupidly, and fell to the ground. The substation was only a few feet away, a glittering, polished metal plate on the wall.
"Forty-five seconds to self-destruct," the voice said, and then he was angry because the voice was female, and seductive, and recorded, because someone had planned it this way, had written out a series of inexorable statements, like a script, which was now being followed by the computers, together with all the polished, perfect machinery of the laboratory. It was as if this was his fate, planned from the beginning.
And he was angry.
Later, Hall could not remember how he managed to crawl the final distance; nor could he remember how he was able to get to his knees and reach up with the key. He did remember twisting it in the lock, and watching as the green light came on again.
"Self-destruct has been canceled," the voice announced, as if it were quite normal.
Hall slid to the floor, heavy, exhausted, and watched as blackness closed in around him.
DAY 5
Resolution
30. The Last Day
AVOICE FROM VERY FAR AWAY SAID, "He's fighting it."
"Is he?"
"Yes. Look."
And then, a moment later, Hall coughed as something was pulled from his throat, and he coughed again, gasped for air, and opened his eyes.
A concerned female face looked down at him. "You okay? It wears off quickly."
Hall tried to answer her but could not. He lay very still on his back, and felt himself breathe. It was a little stiff at first, but soon became much easier, his ribs going in and out without effort. He turned his head and said, "How long?"
"About forty seconds," the girl said, "as nearly as we can figure. Forty seconds without breathing. You were a little blue when we found you, but we got you intubated right away and onto a respirator."
"When was that?"
"Twelve, fifteen minutes ago. Ligamine is short-acting, but even so, we were worried about you... How are you feeling?"
"Okay."
He looked around the room. He was in the infirmary on Level IV. On the far wall was a television monitor, which showed Stone's face.
"Hello," Hall said.
Stone grinned. "Congratulations."
"I take it the bomb didn't?"
"The bomb didn't," Stone said.
"That's good," Hall said, and closed his eyes. He slept for more than an hour, and when he awoke the television screen was blank. A nurse told him that Dr. Stone was talking to Vandenburg.
"What's happening?"
"According to predictions, the organism is over Los Angeles now."
"And?"
The nurse shrugged. "Nothing. It seems to have no effect at all."
***
"None whatsoever," Stone said, much later. "It has apparently mutated to a benign form. We're still waiting for a bizarre report of death or disease, but it's been six hours now, and it gets less likely with every minute. We suspect that ultimately it will migrate back out of the atmosphere, since there's too much oxygen down here. But of course if the bomb had gone off in Wildfire..."
Hall said, "How much time was left?"
"When you turned the key? About thirty-four seconds."
Hall smiled. "Plenty of time. Hardly even exciting."
"Perhaps from where you were," Stone said. "But down on Level V, it was very exciting indeed. I neglected to tell you that in order to improve the subterranean detonation characteristics of the atomic device, all air is evacuated from Level V, beginning thirty seconds before explosion."
"Oh," Hall said.
"But things are now under control," Stone said. "We have the organism, and can continue to study it. We've already begun to characterize a variety of mutant forms. It's a rather astonishing organism in its versatility. " He smiled. "I think we can be fairly confident that the organism will move into the upper atmosphere without causing further difficulty on the surface, so there's no problem there. And as for us down here, we understand what's happening now, in terms of the mutations. That's the important thing. That we understand."
"Understand," Hall repeated.
"Yes," Stone said. "We have to understand."
***
EPILOGUE
OFFICIALLY, THE LOSS OF ANDROS V, THE MANNED spacecraft that burned up as it reentered the atmosphere, was explained on the basis of mechanical failure. The tungsten-and-plastic-laminate heat shield was said to have eroded away under the thermal stress of returning to the atmosphere, and an investigation was ordered by NASA into production methods for the heat shield.
In Congress, and in the press, there was clamor for safer spacecraft. As a result of governmental and public pressure, NASA elected to postpone future manned flights for an indefinite period. This decision was announced by Jack Marriott, "the voice of Andros," in a press conference at the Manned Spaceflight Center in Houston. A partial transcript of the conference follows:
Q: Jack, when does this postponement go into effect?
A: Immediately. Right as I talk to you, we are shutting down. Q: How long do you anticipate this delay will last?
A: I'm afraid that's impossible to say. Q: Could it be a matter of months? A: It could. Q: Jack, could it be as long as a year9
A: It's just impossible for me to say. We must wait for the findings of the investigative committee.
Q: Does this postponement have anything to do with the Russian decision to curtail their space program after the crash of Zond 19?