I heard something crawling along the passage behind me. I turned and drew my gun, with a wild feeling that we were trapped. I almost shot him before I realized that it was the ubiquitous young officer we had left outside. “Come on out!” he said urgently. He pushed on past me out into the chamber and repeated the demand to the Old Man.
The Old Man looked exasperated beyond endurance. “Shut up and don’t bother me,” he said.
“You’ve got to, sir,” the youngster insisted. “The commander says that you must come out at once. We’re falling back; the commander says he may have to use demolition at any moment. If we are still inside—blooie! That’s it.”
“Very well,” the Old Man agreed in unhurried tones. “We’re coming. You go out and tell your commander that he must hold off until we get out; I have vitally important information. Son, help me with Mary.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” the youngster acknowledged. “But hurry!” He scrambled away. I picked up Mary and carried her to where the chamber narrowed into a tube; she seemed almost unconscious. I put her down.
“We’ll have to drag her,” the Old Man said. “She may not come out of this soon. Here—let me get her up on your back, you can crawl with her.”
I paid no attention but shook her. “Mary,” I shouted, “Mary! Can you hear me?”
Her eyes opened. “Yes, Sam?”
“Darling—we’ve got to get out of here, fast! Can you crawl?”
“Yes, Sam.” She closed her eyes again. I shook her again. “Mary!”
“Yes, darling? What is it? I’m so tired.”
“Listen, Mary—you’ve got to crawl out of here. If you don’t the slugs will get us—do you understand?”
“All right, darling.” Her eyes stayed open this time but were vacant. I got her headed up the tube and came along after her. Whenever she faltered or slowed I slapped at her. I lifted and dragged her through the chamber of the slugs and again through the control room, if that is what it was. When we came to the place where the tube was partly blocked by the dead elfin creature she stopped; I wormed my way past her and moved it, stuffing it into the branching tube. There was no doubt, this time, that its slug was dead; I gagged at the job. Again I had to slap her into cooperation.
After an endless nightmare of leaden-limbed striving we reached the outer door and the young officer was there to help us lift her out, him pulling and the Old Man and me lifting and pushing. I gave the Old Man a leg up, jumped out myself, and took her away from the youngster. It was quite dark.
We went back the long way past the crushed house, avoiding the jungle like brake, and thence down to the beach road. Our car was no longer there; it did not matter for we found ourselves hurried into a “mud turtle” tank—none too soon, for the fighting was almost on top of us. The tank commander buttoned up and the craft lumbered off the stepped-back seawall and into the water. Fifteen minutes later we were inside the Fulton.
And an hour later we disembarked at the Mobile base. The Old Man and I had bad coffee and sandwiches in the wardroom of the Fulton, some of the Wave officers had taken Mary and cared for her in the women’s quarters. She joined us as we left and seemed entirely normal. I said, “Mary, are you all right?”
She smiled at me. “Of course, darling. Why shouldn’t I be?”
A small command ship and an escort took us out of there. I had supposed that we were headed back to the Section offices, or more likely to Washington. I had not asked; the Old Man was in no mood to talk and I was satisfied simply to hold Mary’s hand and feel relieved.
The pilot put us into a mountainside hangar in one of those egg-on-a-plate maneuvers that no civilian craft can accomplish—in the sky at high speed, then in a cave and stationary. Like that. “Where are we?” I asked.
The Old Man did not answer but got out; Mary and I followed. The hangar was small, just parking space for about a dozen craft, an arresting platform, and a single launching rack; it contained only two other ships besides ours. Guards met us and directed us on back to a door set in the living rock; we went through and found ourselves in an anteroom. An unseen metallic voice told us to strip off what little we wore. I did not mind being naked but I hated to part with my gun and phone.