The Defenders - 2

them sat down silently, and the two leadys followed after them, taking
their places.
"The other Council Members are on their way. They have already been
notified and are coming as quickly as they can. Again I urge you to go
back down." The leady surveyed the three human beings. "There is no way
you can meet the conditions up here. Even we survive with some trouble,
ourselves. How can you expect to do it?"
The leader approached Franks.
"This astonishes and perplexes us," it said. "Of course we must do what
you tell us, but allow me to point out that if you remain here--"
"We know," Franks said impatiently. "However, we intend to remain, at
least until sunrise."
"If you insist."
There was silence. The leadys seemed to be conferring with each other,
although the three men heard no sound.
"For your own good," the leader said at last, "you must go back down. We
have discussed this, and it seems to us that you are doing the wrong
thing for your own good."
"We are human beings," Franks said sharply. "Don't you understand? We're
men, not machines."
"That is precisely why you must go back. This room is radioactive; all
surface areas are. We calculate that your suits will not protect you for
over fifty more minutes. Therefore--"
The leadys moved abruptly toward the men, wheeling in a circle, forming
a solid row. The men stood up, Taylor reaching awkwardly for his weapon,
his fingers numb and stupid. The men stood facing the silent metal
figures.
"We must insist," the leader said, its voice without emotion. "We must
take you back to the Tube and send you down on the next car. I am sorry,
but it is necessary."
"What'll we do?" Moss said nervously to Franks. He touched his gun.
"Shall we blast them?"
Franks shook his head. "All right," he said to the leader. "We'll go
back."
* * * * *
He moved toward the door, motioning Taylor and Moss to follow him. They
looked at him in surprise, but they came with him. The leadys followed
them out into the great warehouse. Slowly they moved toward the Tube
entrance, none of them speaking.
[Illustration]
At the lip, Franks turned. "We are going back because we have no choice.
There are three of us and about a dozen of you. However, if--"
"Here comes the car," Taylor said.
There was a grating sound from the Tube. D-class leadys moved toward the
edge to receive it.
"I am sorry," the leader said, "but it is for your protection. We are
watching over you, literally. You must stay below and let us conduct the
war. In a sense, it has come to be _our_ war. We must fight it as we see
fit."
The car rose to the surface.
Twelve soldiers, armed with Bender pistols, stepped from it and
surrounded the three men.
Moss breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, this does change things. It came
off just right."
The leader moved back, away from the soldiers. It studied them
intently, glancing from one to the next, apparently trying to make up
its mind. At last it made a sign to the other leadys. They coasted aside
and a corridor was opened up toward the warehouse.
"Even now," the leader said, "we could send you back by force. But it is
evident that this is not really an observation party at all. These
soldiers show that you have much more in mind; this was all carefully
prepared."
"Very carefully," Franks said.
They closed in.
"How much more, we can only guess. I must admit that we were taken
unprepared. We failed utterly to meet the situation. Now force would be
absurd, because neither side can afford to injure the other; we, because
of the restrictions placed on us regarding human life, you because the
war demands--"
The soldiers fired, quick and in fright. Moss dropped to one knee,
firing up. The leader dissolved in a cloud of particles. On all sides
D- and B-class leadys were rushing up, some with weapons, some with
metal slats. The room was in confusion. Off in the distance a siren was
screaming. Franks and Taylor were cut off from the others, separated
from the soldiers by a wall of metal bodies.
"They can't fire back," Franks said calmly. "This is another bluff.
They've tried to bluff us all the way." He fired into the face of a
leady. The leady dissolved. "They can only try to frighten us. Remember
that."
* * * * *
They went on firing and leady after leady vanished. The room reeked with
the smell of burning metal, the stink of fused plastic and steel. Taylor
had been knocked down. He was struggling to find his gun, reaching
wildly among metal legs, groping frantically to find it. His fingers
strained, a handle swam in front of him. Suddenly something came down on
his arm, a metal foot. He cried out.
Then it was over. The leadys were moving away, gathering together off to
one side. Only four of the Surface Council remained. The others were
radioactive particles in the air. D-class leadys were already restoring
order, gathering up partly destroyed metal figures and bits and removing
them.
Franks breathed a shuddering sigh.
"All right," he said. "You can take us back to the windows. It won't be
long now."
The leadys separated, and the human group, Moss and Franks and Taylor
and the soldiers, walked slowly across the room, toward the door. They
entered the Council Chamber. Already a faint touch of gray mitigated the
blackness of the windows.
"Take us outside," Franks said impatiently. "We'll see it directly, not
in here."
A door slid open. A chill blast of cold morning air rushed in, chilling
them even through their lead suits. The men glanced at each other
uneasily.
"Come on," Franks said. "Outside."
He walked out through the door, the others following him.
They were on a hill, overlooking the vast bowl of a valley. Dimly,
against the graying sky, the outline of mountains were forming, becoming
tangible.
"It'll be bright enough to see in a few minutes," Moss said. He
shuddered as a chilling wind caught him and moved around him. "It's
worth it, really worth it, to see this again after eight years. Even if
it's the last thing we see--"
"Watch," Franks snapped.
They obeyed, silent and subdued. The sky was clearing, brightening each
moment. Some place far off, echoing across the valley, a rooster crowed.
"A chicken!" Taylor murmured. "Did you hear?"
Behind them, the leadys had come out and were standing silently,
watching, too. The gray sky turned to white and the hills appeared more
clearly. Light spread across the valley floor, moving toward them.
"God in heaven!" Franks exclaimed.
Trees, trees and forests. A valley of plants and trees, with a few roads
winding among them. Farmhouses. A windmill. A barn, far down below them.
"Look!" Moss whispered.
Color came into the sky. The Sun was approaching. Birds began to sing.
Not far from where they stood, the leaves of a tree danced in the wind.
Franks turned to the row of leadys behind them.
"Eight years. We were tricked. There was no war. As soon as we left the
surface--"
"Yes," an A-class leady admitted. "As soon as you left, the war ceased.
You're right, it was a hoax. You worked hard undersurface, sending up
guns and weapons, and we destroyed them as fast as they came up."
"But why?" Taylor asked, dazed. He stared down at the vast valley below.
"Why?"
* * * * *
"You created us," the leady said, "to pursue the war for you, while you
human beings went below the ground in order to survive. But before we
could continue the war, it was necessary to analyze it to determine what
its purpose was. We did this, and we found that it had no purpose,
except, perhaps, in terms of human needs. Even this was questionable.
"We investigated further. We found that human cultures pass through
phases, each culture in its own time. As the culture ages and begins to
lose its objectives, conflict arises within it between those who wish to
cast it off and set up a new culture-pattern, and those who wish to
retain the old with as little change as possible.
"At this point, a great danger appears. The conflict within threatens to
engulf the society in self-war, group against group. The vital
traditions may be lost--not merely altered or reformed, but completely
destroyed in this period of chaos and anarchy. We have found many such
examples in the history of mankind.
"It is necessary for this hatred within the culture to be directed
outward, toward an external group, so that the culture itself may
survive its crisis. War is the result. War, to a logical mind, is
absurd. But in terms of human needs, it plays a vital role. And it will
continue to until Man has grown up enough so that no hatred lies within
him."
Taylor was listening intently. "Do you think this time will come?"
"Of course. It has almost arrived now. This is the last war. Man is
_almost_ united into one final culture--a world culture. At this point
he stands continent against continent, one half of the world against the
other half. Only a single step remains, the jump to a unified culture.
Man has climbed slowly upward, tending always toward unification of his
culture. It will not be long--
"But it has not come yet, and so the war had to go on, to satisfy the
last violent surge of hatred that Man felt. Eight years have passed
since the war began. In these eight years, we have observed and noted
important changes going on in the minds of men. Fatigue and disinterest,
we have seen, are gradually taking the place of hatred and fear. The
hatred is being exhausted gradually, over a period of time. But for the
present, the hoax must go on, at least for a while longer. You are not
ready to learn the truth. You would want to continue the war."
"But how did you manage it?" Moss asked. "All the photographs, the
samples, the damaged equipment--"
"Come over here." The leady directed them toward a long, low building.
"Work goes on constantly, whole staffs laboring to maintain a coherent
and convincing picture of a global war."
* * * * *
They entered the building. Leadys were working everywhere, poring over
tables and desks.
"Examine this project here," the A-class leady said. Two leadys were
carefully photographing something, an elaborate model on a table top.
"It is a good example."
The men grouped around, trying to see. It was a model of a ruined city.
Taylor studied it in silence for a long time. At last he looked up.
"It's San Francisco," he said in a low voice. "This is a model of San
Francisco, destroyed. I saw this on the vidscreen, piped down to us. The
bridges were hit--"
"Yes, notice the bridges." The leady traced the ruined span with his
metal finger, a tiny spider-web, almost invisible. "You have no doubt
seen photographs of this many times, and of the other tables in this
building.
"San Francisco itself is completely intact. We restored it soon after
you left, rebuilding the parts that had been damaged at the start of the
war. The work of manufacturing news goes on all the time in this
particular building. We are very careful to see that each part fits in
with all the other parts. Much time and effort are devoted to it."
Franks touched one of the tiny model buildings, lying half in ruins. "So
this is what you spend your time doing--making model cities and then
blasting them."
"No, we do much more. We are caretakers, watching over the whole world.
The owners have left for a time, and we must see that the cities are
kept clean, that decay is prevented, that everything is kept oiled and
in running condition. The gardens, the streets, the water mains,
everything must be maintained as it was eight years ago, so that when
the owners return, they will not be displeased. We want to be sure that
they will be completely satisfied."
Franks tapped Moss on the arm.
"Come over here," he said in a low voice. "I want to talk to you."
He led Moss and Taylor out of the building, away from the leadys,
outside on the hillside. The soldiers followed them. The Sun was up and
the sky was turning blue. The air smelled sweet and good, the smell of
growing things.
Taylor removed his helmet and took a deep breath.
"I haven't smelled that smell for a long time," he said.
"Listen," Franks said, his voice low and hard. "We must get back down at
once. There's a lot to get started on. All this can be turned to our
advantage."
"What do you mean?" Moss asked.
"It's a certainty that the Soviets have been tricked, too, the same as
us. But _we_ have found out. That gives us an edge over them."
"I see." Moss nodded. "We know, but they don't. Their Surface Council
has sold out, the same as ours. It works against them the same way. But
if we could--"
"With a hundred top-level men, we could take over again, restore things
as they should be! It would be easy!"
* * * * *
Moss touched him on the arm. An A-class leady was coming from the
building toward them.
"We've seen enough," Franks said, raising his voice. "All this is very
serious. It must be reported below and a study made to determine our
policy."
The leady said nothing.
Franks waved to the soldiers. "Let's go." He started toward the
warehouse.
Most of the soldiers had removed their helmets. Some of them had taken
their lead suits off, too, and were relaxing comfortably in their cotton
uniforms. They stared around them, down the hillside at the trees and
bushes, the vast expanse of green, the mountains and the sky.
"Look at the Sun," one of them murmured.
"It sure is bright as hell," another said.
"We're going back down," Franks said. "Fall in by twos and follow us."
Reluctantly, the soldiers regrouped. The leadys watched without emotion
as the men marched slowly back toward the warehouse. Franks and Moss and
Taylor led them across the ground, glancing alertly at the leadys as
they walked.
They entered the warehouse. D-class leadys were loading material and
weapons on surface carts. Cranes and derricks were working busily
everywhere. The work was done with efficiency, but without hurry or
excitement.
The men stopped, watching. Leadys operating the little carts moved past
them, signaling silently to each other. Guns and parts were being
hoisted by magnetic cranes and lowered gently onto waiting carts.
"Come on," Franks said.
He turned toward the lip of the Tube. A row of D-class leadys was
standing in front of it, immobile and silent. Franks stopped, moving
back. He looked around. An A-class leady was coming toward him.
"Tell them to get out of the way," Franks said. He touched his gun. "You
had better move them."
Time passed, an endless moment, without measure. The men stood, nervous
and alert, watching the row of leadys in front of them.
"As you wish," the A-class leady said.
It signaled and the D-class leadys moved into life. They stepped slowly
aside.
Moss breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad that's over," he said to Franks. "Look at them all. Why don't
they try to stop us? They must know what we're going to do."
Franks laughed. "Stop us? You saw what happened when they tried to stop
us before. They can't; they're only machines. We built them so they
can't lay hands on us, and they know that."
His voice trailed off.
The men stared at the Tube entrance. Around them the leadys watched,
silent and impassive, their metal faces expressionless.
For a long time the men stood without moving. At last Taylor turned
away.
"Good God," he said. He was numb, without feeling of any kind.
The Tube was gone. It was sealed shut, fused over. Only a dull surface
of cooling metal greeted them.
The Tube had been closed.
* * * * *
Franks turned, his face pale and vacant.
The A-class leady shifted. "As you can see, the Tube has been shut. We
were prepared for this. As soon as all of you were on the surface, the
order was given. If you had gone back when we asked you, you would now
be safely down below. We had to work quickly because it was such an
immense operation."
"But why?" Moss demanded angrily.
"Because it is unthinkable that you should be allowed to resume the war.
With all the Tubes sealed, it will be many months before forces from
below can reach the surface, let alone organize a military program. By
that time the cycle will have entered its last stages. You will not be
so perturbed to find your world intact.
"We had hoped that you would be undersurface when the sealing occurred.
Your presence here is a nuisance. When the Soviets broke through, we
were able to accomplish their sealing without--"
"The Soviets? They broke through?"
"Several months ago, they came up unexpectedly to see why the war had
not been won. We were forced to act with speed. At this moment they are
desperately attempting to cut new Tubes to the surface, to resume the
war. We have, however, been able to seal each new one as it appears."
The leady regarded the three men calmly.
"We're cut off," Moss said, trembling. "We can't get back. What'll we
do?"
"How did you manage to seal the Tube so quickly?" Franks asked the
leady. "We've been up here only two hours."
"Bombs are placed just above the first stage of each Tube for such
emergencies. They are heat bombs. They fuse lead and rock."
Gripping the handle of his gun, Franks turned to Moss and Taylor.
"What do you say? We can't go back, but we can do a lot of damage, the
fifteen of us. We have Bender guns. How about it?"
He looked around. The soldiers had wandered away again, back toward the
exit of the building. They were standing outside, looking at the valley
and the sky. A few of them were carefully climbing down the slope.
"Would you care to turn over your suits and guns?" the A-class leady
asked politely. "The suits are uncomfortable and you'll have no need for
weapons. The Russians have given up theirs, as you can see."
Fingers tensed on triggers. Four men in Russian uniforms were coming
toward them from an aircraft that they suddenly realized had landed
silently some distance away.
"Let them have it!" Franks shouted.
"They are unarmed," said the leady. "We brought them here so you could
begin peace talks."
"We have no authority to speak for our country," Moss said stiffly.
"We do not mean diplomatic discussions," the leady explained. "There
will be no more. The working out of daily problems of existence will
teach you how to get along in the same world. It will not be easy, but
it will be done."
[Illustration]
* * * * *
The Russians halted and they faced each other with raw hostility.
"I am Colonel Borodoy and I regret giving up our guns," the senior
Russian said. "You could have been the first Americans to be killed in
almost eight years."
"Or the first Americans to kill," Franks corrected.
"No one would know of it except yourselves," the leady pointed out. "It
would be useless heroism. Your real concern should be surviving on the
surface. We have no food for you, you know."
Taylor put his gun in its holster. "They've done a neat job of
neutralizing us, damn them. I propose we move into a city, start raising
crops with the help of some leadys, and generally make ourselves
comfortable." Drawing his lips tight over his teeth, he glared at the
A-class leady. "Until our families can come up from undersurface, it's
going to be pretty lonesome, but we'll have to manage."
"If I may make a suggestion," said another Russian uneasily. "We tried
living in a city. It is too empty. It is also too hard to maintain for
so few people. We finally settled in the most modern village we could
find."
"Here in this country," a third Russian blurted. "We have much to learn
from you."
The Americans abruptly found themselves laughing.
"You probably have a thing or two to teach us yourselves," said Taylor
generously, "though I can't imagine what."
The Russian colonel grinned. "Would you join us in our village? It would
make our work easier and give us company."
"Your village?" snapped Franks. "It's American, isn't it? It's ours!"
The leady stepped between them. "When our plans are completed, the term
will be interchangeable. 'Ours' will eventually mean mankind's." It
pointed at the aircraft, which was warming up. "The ship is waiting.
Will you join each other in making a new home?"
The Russians waited while the Americans made up their minds.
"I see what the leadys mean about diplomacy becoming outmoded," Franks
said at last. "People who work together don't need diplomats. They solve
their problems on the operational level instead of at a conference
table."
The leady led them toward the ship. "It is the goal of history, unifying
the world. From family to tribe to city-state to nation to hemisphere,
the direction has been toward unification. Now the hemispheres will be
joined and--"
Taylor stopped listening and glanced back at the location of the Tube.
Mary was undersurface there. He hated to leave her, even though he
couldn't see her again until the Tube was unsealed. But then he shrugged
and followed the others.
If this tiny amalgam of former enemies was a good example, it wouldn't
be too long before he and Mary and the rest of humanity would be living
on the surface like rational human beings instead of blindly hating
moles.
"It has taken thousands of generations to achieve," the A-class leady
concluded. "Hundreds of centuries of bloodshed and destruction. But each
war was a step toward uniting mankind. And now the end is in sight: a
world without war. But even that is only the beginning of a new stage of
history."
"The conquest of space," breathed Colonel Borodoy.
"The meaning of life," Moss added.
"Eliminating hunger and poverty," said Taylor.
The leady opened the door of the ship. "All that and more. How much
more? We cannot foresee it any more than the first men who formed a
tribe could foresee this day. But it will be unimaginably great."
The door closed and the ship took off toward their new home.
--PHILIP K. DICK


Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ January 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.