The Best Military Science Fiction of the 20th Century by Harry Turtledove Page A

the entrance of the bunker. Two Wounded Soldiers stood uncertainly by the brick pile. More Davids poured from behind them, out onto the plain. One of the Wounded Soldiers moved toward the bomb, stooping awkwardly down to pick it up.
    The bomb went off. The concussion whirled Hendricks around, throwing him on his face. A hot wind rolled over him. Dimly he saw Tasso standing behind the columns, firing slowly and methodically at the Davids coming out of the raging clouds of white fire.
    Back along the rise Klaus struggled with a ring of claws circling around him. He retreated, blasting at them and moving back, trying to break through the ring.
    Hendricks struggled to his feet. His head ached. He could hardly see. Everything was licking at him, raging and whirling. His right arm would not move.
    Tasso pulled back toward him. “Come on. Let’s go.”
    “Klaus—he’s still up there.”
    “Come on!” Tasso dragged Hendricks back, away from the columns. Hendricks shook his head, trying to clear it. Tasso led him rapidly away, her eyes intense and bright, watching for claws that had escaped the blast.
    One David came out of the rolling clouds of flame. Tasso blasted it. No more appeared.
    “But Klaus. What about him?” Hendricks stopped, standing unsteadily. “He—”
    “Come on!”
    They retreated, moving farther and farther away from the bunker. A few small claws followed them for a little while and then gave up, turning back and going off.
    At last Tasso stopped. “We can stop here and get our breaths.”
    Hendricks sat down on some heaps of debris. He wiped his neck, gasping. “We left Klaus back there.”
    Tasso said nothing. She opened her gun, sliding a fresh round of blast cartridges into place.
    Hendricks stared at her, dazed. “You left him back there on purpose.”
    Tasso snapped the gun together. She studied the heaps of rubble around them, her face expressionless. As if she were watching for something.
    “What is it?” Hendricks demanded. “What are you looking for? Is something coming?” He shook his head, trying to understand. What was she doing? What was she waiting for? He could see nothing. Ash lay all around them, ash and ruins. Occasional stark tree trunks, without leaves or branches. “What—”
    Tasso cut him off. “Be still.” Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly her gun came up. Hendricks turned, following her gaze.
    Back the way they had come a figure appeared. The figure walked unsteadily toward them. Its clothes were torn. It limped as it made its way along, going very slowly and carefully. Stopping now and then, resting and getting its strength. Once it almost fell. It stood for a moment, trying to steady itself. Then it came on.
    Klaus.
    Hendricks stood up. “Klaus!” He started toward him. “How the hell did you—”
    Tasso fired. Hendricks swung back. She fired again, the blast passing him, a searing line of heat. The beam caught Klaus in the chest. He exploded, gears and wheels flying. For a moment he continued to walk. Then he swayed back and forth. He crashed to the ground, his arms flung out. A few more wheels rolled away.
    Silence.
    Tasso turned to Hendricks. “Now you understand why he killed Rudi.”
    Hendricks sat down again slowly. He shook his head. He was numb. He could not think.
    “Do you see?” Tasso said. “Do you understand?”
    Hendricks said nothing. Everything was slipping away from him, faster and faster. Darkness, rolling and plucking at him.
    He closed his eyes.
             
    H ENDRICKS OPENED HIS eyes slowly. His body ached all over. He tried to sit up but needles of pain shot through his arm and shoulder. He gasped.
    “Don’t try to get up,” Tasso said. She bent down, putting her cold hand against his forehead.
    It was night. A few stars glinted above, shining through the drifting clouds of ash. Hendricks lay back, his teeth locked. Tasso watched him impassively. She had built a fire with some wood and weeds. The fire licked feebly, hissing at a