The Defenders Read online

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  The Defenders

  By PHILIP K. DICK

  Illustrated by EMSH

  _No weapon has ever been frightful enough to put a stop to war--perhaps because we never before had any that thought for themselves!_

  Taylor sat back in his chair reading the morning newspaper. The warmkitchen and the smell of coffee blended with the comfort of not havingto go to work. This was his Rest Period, the first for a long time, andhe was glad of it. He folded the second section back, sighing withcontentment.

  "What is it?" Mary said, from the stove.

  "They pasted Moscow again last night." Taylor nodded his head inapproval. "Gave it a real pounding. One of those R-H bombs. It's abouttime."

  He nodded again, feeling the full comfort of the kitchen, the presenceof his plump, attractive wife, the breakfast dishes and coffee. This wasrelaxation. And the war news was good, good and satisfying. He couldfeel a justifiable glow at the news, a sense of pride and personalaccomplishment. After all, he was an integral part of the war program,not just another factory worker lugging a cart of scrap, but atechnician, one of those who designed and planned the nerve-trunk of thewar.

  "It says they have the new subs almost perfected. Wait until they get_those_ going." He smacked his lips with anticipation. "When they startshelling from underwater, the Soviets are sure going to be surprised."

  "They're doing a wonderful job," Mary agreed vaguely. "Do you know whatwe saw today? Our team is getting a leady to show to the schoolchildren. I saw the leady, but only for a moment. It's good for thechildren to see what their contributions are going for, don't youthink?"

  She looked around at him.

  "A leady," Taylor murmured. He put the newspaper slowly down. "Well,make sure it's decontaminated properly. We don't want to take anychances."

  "Oh, they always bathe them when they're brought down from the surface,"Mary said. "They wouldn't think of letting them down without the bath.Would they?" She hesitated, thinking back. "Don, you know, it makes meremember--"

  He nodded. "I know."

  * * * * *

  He knew what she was thinking. Once in the very first weeks of the war,before everyone had been evacuated from the surface, they had seen ahospital train discharging the wounded, people who had been showeredwith sleet. He remembered the way they had looked, the expression ontheir faces, or as much of their faces as was left. It had not been apleasant sight.

  There had been a lot of that at first, in the early days before thetransfer to undersurface was complete. There had been a lot, and ithadn't been very difficult to come across it.

  Taylor looked up at his wife. She was thinking too much about it, thelast few months. They all were.

  "Forget it," he said. "It's all in the past. There isn't anybody upthere now but the leadys, and they don't mind."

  "But just the same, I hope they're careful when they let one of themdown here. If one were still hot--"

  He laughed, pushing himself away from the table. "Forget it. This is awonderful moment; I'll be home for the next two shifts. Nothing to dobut sit around and take things easy. Maybe we can take in a show. Okay?"

  "A show? Do we have to? I don't like to look at all the destruction, theruins. Sometimes I see some place I remember, like San Francisco. Theyshowed a shot of San Francisco, the bridge broken and fallen in thewater, and I got upset. I don't like to watch."

  "But don't you want to know what's going on? No human beings are gettinghurt, you know."

  "But it's so awful!" Her face was set and strained. "Please, no, Don."

  Don Taylor picked up his newspaper sullenly. "All right, but thereisn't a hell of a lot else to do. And don't forget, _their_ cities aregetting it even worse."

  She nodded. Taylor turned the rough, thin sheets of newspaper. His goodmood had soured on him. Why did she have to fret all the time? They werepretty well off, as things went. You couldn't expect to have everythingperfect, living undersurface, with an artificial sun and artificialfood. Naturally it was a strain, not seeing the sky or being able to goany place or see anything other than metal walls, great roaringfactories, the plant-yards, barracks. But it was better than being onsurface. And some day it would end and they could return. Nobody_wanted_ to live this way, but it was necessary.

  He turned the page angrily and the poor paper ripped. Damn it, the paperwas getting worse quality all the time, bad print, yellow tint--

  Well, they needed everything for the war program. He ought to know that.Wasn't he one of the planners?

  He excused himself and went into the other room. The bed was stillunmade. They had better get it in shape before the seventh hourinspection. There was a one unit fine--

  The vidphone rang. He halted. Who would it be? He went over and clickedit on.

  "Taylor?" the face said, forming into place. It was an old face, grayand grim. "This is Moss. I'm sorry to bother you during Rest Period, butthis thing has come up." He rattled papers. "I want you to hurry overhere."

  Taylor stiffened. "What is it? There's no chance it could wait?" Thecalm gray eyes were studying him, expressionless, unjudging. "If youwant me to come down to the lab," Taylor grumbled, "I suppose I can.I'll get my uniform--"

  "No. Come as you are. And not to the lab. Meet me at second stage assoon as possible. It'll take you about a half hour, using the fast carup. I'll see you there."

  The picture broke and Moss disappeared.

  * * * * *

  "What was it?" Mary said, at the door.

  "Moss. He wants me for something."

  "I knew this would happen."

  "Well, you didn't want to do anything, anyhow. What does it matter?" Hisvoice was bitter. "It's all the same, every day. I'll bring you backsomething. I'm going up to second stage. Maybe I'll be close enough tothe surface to--"

  "Don't! Don't bring me anything! Not from the surface!"

  "All right, I won't. But of all the irrational nonsense--"

  She watched him put on his boots without answering.

  * * * * *

  Moss nodded and Taylor fell in step with him, as the older man strodealong. A series of loads were going up to the surface, blind carsclanking like ore-trucks up the ramp, disappearing through the stagetrap above them. Taylor watched the cars, heavy with tubular machineryof some sort, weapons new to him. Workers were everywhere, in the darkgray uniforms of the labor corps, loading, lifting, shouting back andforth. The stage was deafening with noise.

  "We'll go up a way," Moss said, "where we can talk. This is no place togive you details."

  They took an escalator up. The commercial lift fell behind them, andwith it most of the crashing and booming. Soon they emerged on anobservation platform, suspended on the side of the Tube, the vast tunnelleading to the surface, not more than half a mile above them now.

  "My God!" Taylor said, looking down the Tube involuntarily. "It's a longway down."

  Moss laughed. "Don't look."

  They opened a door and entered an office. Behind the desk, an officerwas sitting, an officer of Internal Security. He looked up.

  "I'll be right with you, Moss." He gazed at Taylor studying him. "You'rea little ahead of time."

  "This is Commander Franks," Moss said to Taylor. "He was the first tomake the discovery. I was notified last night." He tapped a parcel hecarried. "I was let in because of this."

  Franks frowned at him and stood up. "We're going up to first stage. Wecan discuss it there."

  "First stage?" Taylor repeated nervously. The three of them went down aside passage to a small lift. "I've never been up there. Is it allrig
ht? It's not radioactive, is it?"

  "You're like everyone else," Franks said. "Old women afraid of burglars.No radiation leaks down to first stage. There's lead and rock, and whatcomes down the Tube is bathed."

  "What's the nature of the problem?" Taylor asked. "I'd like to knowsomething about it."

  "In a moment."

  They entered the lift and ascended. When they stepped out, they were ina hall of soldiers, weapons and uniforms everywhere. Taylor blinked insurprise. So this was first stage,