Feeling somewhat dizzy, Monnik went outside to peer at the river bend through his double telescopes. As he bent at the telescopes, he instantly recognized the signs of a mammoth troop movement. Clouds of dust trailed across the jutting salient of the river bend. The roar of engines, rumble of rolling guns, tramp of feet, and murmur of mingled voices rose to meet him. He could just detect the chink of picks and shovels as the troops dug in, the called orders of officers, and distant blast of signal whistles. Through the dust and haze, he seemed to see the moving shapes of columns of ground-cars, and the dull flash of the sun on the shiny scabbards of masses of marching troops.
Monnik straightened in wonder. It hardly seemed possible to him that a troop movement of that size could be counterfeited. But then, almost everything was shrouded in the dust and haze, and besides, he knew it had to be fake. With the meager stock of transport he had available, his men just couldn’t have been concentrated that fast.
Monnik took another look at the scene, and could find nothing wrong with it. If he hadn’t known that it was impossible, it would have fooled him. He went back inside, and watched as the kingmen piled up more and more power around the loop of the river, while his own men pulled out to fortify the hills further back. The map took on a fantastic appearance. With a crushing superiority on one side, and nothing on the other side, the enemy was afraid to move.
As a staff officer remarked, “They’re completely fooled, sir.”
“Yes,” said Monnik cheerfully, “at this rate, we’ll have things in good shape by tomorrow or the next day.” He felt a sensation of warm friendliness for the Earthmen.
Just then, the solid mountain seemed to jump under his feet. There was a concussion that stunned him for an instant. Then they were all running outside.
Down below, within the bend of the river, a great column of black smoke boiled toward the sky. Then a second and a third explosion shook the ground.
Monnik whirled and shouted:
“Get inside! There’ll be a flood of reports any moment now. And we have to know what’s going on.”
As the officers ran in, Monnik took a closer look at the river bend. The wind was slowly moving the column of smoke, and through it he could vaguely see burning ground-cars, overturned cannon, and flickering bits of wreckage.
Monnik groaned. He didn’t know what had caused the disaster. But he knew what the result would be.
A little later, an officer ran out to him.
“Sir, the kingmen are swinging their pontoon bridges across!”
Monnik watched the map as the enormous enemy force funneled unresisted across the pontoon bridges and began to surge toward him. “How,” he demanded of his officers, “is that defense line in the mountains coming along?”
“Slow, sir. There just hasn’t been enough time, and there aren’t enough men there yet. It will probably stop the first attack. If they don’t hit it too hard, or in the wrong place.”
Monnik swore, went outside, and got the captain of the guard. “I hate to do this to you,” said Monnik to the bandaged figure, “but I’ve got another job for you.”
As the guard roared off to help dig and man the defense line, Monnik once more became conscious of his aches and pains.
Late that afternoon, he received word that the advance scouts of the kingmen had reached the defense line, with the swarming army not far behind them. Able Hunter had by then installed a television command post in Monnik’s headquarters, so Monnik could see the advancing scouts on one of the screens. Hunter was talking into a headset. On the screen, the enemy scouts moved toward the defenses.
A few moments later, the hidden troops higher up opened fire. There was a roar of cannon, and the scouts dove for cover. There were shouts and the blasts of whistles from the rear.
One of Monnik’s staff officers said, “That line will never hold them.”
Able Hunter was saying into his headphones, ” . . . The 000 Canadian first. The jumping, crawling, and burrowing later . . . Now, I should think it’s about time to try the Spider Special and a couple cases of Sparky Willie on that pack before they get spread out too much—”
One of the other screens showed the first of the main force of kingmen coming up well spread out. Further back, hosts of kingmen advanced in little groups. It was on these groups that miniature planes suddenly dove, trailing long pale strands that stuck and clung as the planes whipped around the groups, shot up, exuded more of the pale substance, and dove again. Behind the planes were left knots of men struggling with clinging filaments like so many flies trapped in webs. During the confusion this caused, a number of pale blue parachutes drifted to earth, burst into flame and disappeared on touching the ground. Small devices with caterpillar treads and long whiplike antennae crept out toward the kingmen, who were now broken up into innumerable knots of individuals stuck together in a complex pattern with strands running in all directions. Just then, the long antennae of the creeping devices approached the struggling soldiers.
Monnik watched as the kingmen’s triumphant army began to retreat.
One of Monnik’s officers said dazedly, “It’s victory, sir.”
Monnik grunted. “If it lasts. Signal Karrif to open the attack in the south.”
“Look there, sir,” cried an officer.
Monnik looked around to see on another screen, a huge host of kingmen spread over the land within the river bend. Beneath the cloudy sky, some were still grimly coming forward. Others were hastily going backwards. These men were not stuck by sticky strands, but appeared to exist in the center of a faint swirling gray haze. The majority of them appeared demented, and shrugged their shoulders, coughed, nervously reached down inside their jackets, batted the air, slapped their wrists, necks, and ankles, gritted their teeth, hopped, rushed in and out of stalled ground-cars, climbed on top, sprang off, and then began to dig as if their only hope was to melt into the earth.
Monnik looked up in awe. “That’s nerve-gas, isn’t it?”
“No,” said Hunter, “that is a brand of tiny black fly, selected from a type found in northern swamps and forests on Earth, and specially bred for biting power, hardiness, and ease of incubation. You’d be surprised how many can be packed into the space occupied by a single bullet, and these things seek their targets. We’re also dropping other insect pests to vary the agony.”
Monnik squinted at the screen. “But—mere bugs can’t stop an army.”
Hunter turned away and said into his headphones, “Bombing raid, eh? Good. Get our plane with the enemy markings up, and see if you can sneak into their formation and go back with them—don’t complain. You volunteered. A few of our Superstrength hornets and yellow-jackets will keep the enemy pilots away and their planes down long enough for us to make a leaflet raid on the nearby cities and villages.”
“Leaflet raid?” asked Monnik.
Hunter wordlessly handed him a neatly-printed oblong of paper. At the same moment as Monnik started to read it, an officer rushed in.
“Sir! The wind’s shifted! Bugs—”
“Aah!” said Monnik irritably. He waved the officer to silence, and began to read the paper.
A kind of swirling gray fog came in the door. Monnik ignored it. The staff officers looked to Monnik for guidance, and stood firm. Hunter went straight out a window on the opposite side of the room.
Monnik was reading in astonishment:
CITIZENS!
For reasons of strategic rearrangement, your victorious army will, within the next day or two, move back through certain towns and villages in rear of the present lines.
You will, of course, firmly assist the military authorities in every way possible. For example:
1) Soldiers who have gone violently insane under pressure of enemy action will be cared for.
2) Troops suffering from vicious insect pests will be treated at houses designated by troop commanders.
3) Infested civilian houses will be burnt to the ground.
4) Citizens will borrow the guns of soldiers temporarily out of action, and turn out to resist roving bands of savage enemy.
Monnik became conscious of a peculiar fuzziness. The air before him seemed to be filled with innumerable tiny gray specks. He swept his hand through the air, and that rearranged the specks. He felt a surge of irritation and decided that the thing to do was to ignore the presence of the creatures. He looked up.
An officer with one hand across his face and the other fanning the air gave a guilty start. The room was filled with officers turning round and round, slapping wrists, necks, and ankles, snorting, coughing, and hopping from one foot to the other.