One of them said, "Do you think Podgorny might be with them?"
"Is he here this year?"
"That's what I heard."
*T haven't seen him since the Vienna conference."
Richards broke into their conversation. "I think you civilians had better get back to the crawler. Ensign Jefferson, go get two more carbines."
Jefferson raced for the American vehicle, while Bates hefted his carbine and stepped closer to the Lieutenant Commander. The scientists fidgeted irresolutely.
Dr. Carlati said, "Richards, aren't you being melodra- matic? What could cause trouble that would call for fire- arms?"
"I really think you should all get back to the crawler," Richards replied. "Since I'm responsible for your safety, I'm going to have to insist."
"But this is nonsense!"
"Please . . ."
Ensign Jefferson reappeared at the crawler hatch, two carbines in his arms, and started down the ladder. His foot slipped and one of the guns dropped from his grasp. It hit the stony ground and went off with a single sharp bang.
Immediately an answering crack-crack-crack came from the Soviet crawler. Chips of stone sprang up around the Americans. Richards saw a man sitting atop the Soviet vehicle, aiming an automatic rifle at them.
"Get down!" he screamed at the scientists. Pulling the carbine from the stunned Bates, still standing next to him, Richards turned to face the advancing crawler. It loomed huge and gray now, like an army tank. Richards cocked the carbine, hearing one more crack as he did so.
An incredible force slammed into his chest, knocking him over. He never felt hitting the ground, but suddenly he was staring at the sky. Hooded faces slid into his view. They were blurry. The pain! His body was in flames.
"My god, they shot him!" It was a distant voice, fading, fading.
"I think he's dead."
Kinsman had drifted away from the crowd around the pool. Nursing his third drink (Or is it my fourth?) he stood apart from the clustering crowd of partygoers, near the base of the transparent dome. He turned to look out at Alphon- sus's weary ringwall, billion-year-old guardian of nothing- ness.
In the midst of the crowd Diane was singing:
"Oh, do you remember sweet Betsy from Pike, Who crossed the wide prairie with her lover
Ike . . ."
