Part 14 (1/2)

The Norwegian scuttled away, gathered his squad, and started them into the garage. The warning sign was almost completely gone, Munasinghe saw; nothing left but a few streaks of red.

”You're making a serious mistake,” Doug said in the captain's earphones.

”No,” Munasinghe snapped. ”You are. I will destroy Moonbase and everyone in it before I leave here.”

TOUCHDOWN PLUS 59 MINUTES.

Edith was getting it all on her digital recorder and minicams. In addition to the camera fastened to the top of her helmet, which saw whatever she looked at, she held another in her gloved hands, almost forgotten in the excitement of the moment.

She watched, wide-eyed, as the squad of troopers thumped in their heavy boots and s.p.a.cesuits across the wide expanse of the empty garage.

It would have been funny if it weren't so scary. The Moonbase guy who spoke to them was Douglas Stavenger, the one who carried swarms of nanomachines inside his body. Was he telling the truth? Were the bugs on the garage floor capable of ruining s.p.a.cesuits? Killing people?

She remembered that Stavenger's father had died on the Moon a quarter-century ago, killed by runaway nan.o.bugs.

This could get hairy, she thought.

Two troopers had outraced the others and reached one of the dulled metal hatches of the airlocks that led into the base proper. They rested their rifles against the wall and started to unpack the grenades they carried on their equipment vests.

”Look at your boots,” Doug Stavenger's voice said, with just a touch of urgency in it. ”Your boots are being digested by nanomachines.”

One of the troopers awkwardly lifted one foot and tried to bend over far enough in his s.p.a.cesuit to see the sole. His buddy looked down, and dropped the set of grenades she'd been handling.

Edith heard a panicky jabbering in a language she didn't understand.

”Speak Englis.h.!.+” Munasinghe's voice demanded.

”The boots... they're coming apart!”

”My glove!”

The other troopers in the garage stopped in their tracks. For an idiotic moment, each of them tried to inspect his or her boots.

”The nanomachines!”

”They'll kill us all!”

Stavenger's voice came through again, strong and calm. ”Get out of the garage. Ultraviolet light deactivates the nan.o.bugs. Get out in the sunlight where the solar UV can save your lives.”

Munasinghe screamed, ”No! No!”

”If you don't get out now,' now,' Stavenger's voice urged,'the nan.o.bugs will eat through your boots and start digesting your flesh. Once that begins there's no way to stop them.” Stavenger's voice urged,'the nan.o.bugs will eat through your boots and start digesting your flesh. Once that begins there's no way to stop them.”

”I order order you to blow those hatches!” Munasinghe screeched. you to blow those hatches!” Munasinghe screeched.

Military discipline is often a fragile thing. For several seconds the troopers stood immobile, torn between the ingrained reflexes of their training and the hard-wired drive for self-protection. One trooper, in the middle of the garage, threw down his rifle and ran out into the suns.h.i.+ne.

That was all it took.

The entire squad bolted like green soldiers facing enemy fire for the first time. The troopers stomped and stumbled back across the garage floor, streamed past their raging captain, and flung themselves down on the dusty regolith, raising their legs high so the sunlight could get to the soles of their boots.

I'll have you court-martialed for this!” Munasinghe raged. ”Cowardice in the face of the enemy! You'll be shot! Each and every one of you!”

”Why don't you go in?” Stavenger's voice asked calmly.

Edith turned to face the captain squarely, so that her helmet-mounted camera would capture this moment in its entirety. Munasinghe was shaking, visibly shaking even with the c.u.mbersome s.p.a.cesuit enveloping him. Whether he quaked with fear or fury, Edith could not tell.

I'll show you!” Munasinghe screeched, fumbling on his equipment vest for one of his grenades. I'll show you all!”

The Norwegian lieutenant, last to leave the garage, reached a hand toward him. ”Captain, wait-”

Edith watched, wide-eyed, as the lieutenant tried to calm Munasinghe. But the captain struggled free of the taller man's grasp and ran a staggering few steps to the entrance of the garage, the grenade in his gloved hand.

I'll destroy you all!” Munasinghe screamed, tugging at the grenade's firing pin.

”Don't!” the lieutenant was saying. ”You can't reach the hatches from here. It's too far-”

But Munasinghe stumbled on, into the garage, and tried to throw the grenade. Enc.u.mbered by his s.p.a.cesuit and the clumsy gloves, his throw went only a few yards. The grenade b.u.mped on the garage floor, rolled once, then exploded.

The lieutenant had thrown himself down on the ground, a curiously slow, dream-like fall. Edith involuntarily ducked behind the rock face at the side of the airlock hatch. She saw a flash but heard nothing.

She looked out into the garage again. Munasinghe was still standing, turning slowly to face her. The lieutenant was clambering to his feet.

Edith saw that the front of Munasinghe's s.p.a.cesuit was shredded. The man took a faltering step, then another, and pitched face-forward, slowly, slowly falling to the smooth rock floor of the garage.

The lieutenant did not hesitate for an instant. He raced into the garage, grabbed his captain's inert form under the shoulders, and dragged him outside into the sunlight.

TOUCHDOWN PLUS 1 HOUR 11 MINUTES.

Edith hefted her minicam. I'll have to know.”

”Hansen,” he said bleakly. ”Lieutenant Frederik Hansen, from Kristiansand.”

”Thank you,” she said.

Lieutenant Hansen looked down at the body of Captain Munasinghe, lying stiffly in his torn s.p.a.cesuit on the dusty lunar ground. ”What a waste,” he muttered. ”What a waste.”

Doug stared at the display screen. ”He killed himself,” he whispered.

No one in the control center moved or said a word.

”He went crazy and killed himself,” Doug said, his voice still hollow with shock.

”He was trying to blow one of the hatches,” Joanna said.

”And fragged himself instead,” Anson added.

Doug shook his head. ”I don't know if he meant to, but he committed suicide.”

”That tall guy did a gutsy thing,” Gordette said, ”dragging him out of the garage like that.”