Death Quotient and Other Stories

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Into the hearts of warring nations came Martin Rhode’s voice, heard on every radio in the world: “You must lay down your weapons, live out your last days in peace. Because — before the week is out, this planet will be no more!”

Second Lieutenant Martin Rhode stood well back from the cave mouth and watched the slow dusk settle over the Chemung valley. By force of habit, he kept his hand cupped around the glow of his cigarette, though there was no chance that it could be seen from aloft.

Far down the slanting throat of the cave a shaft of light glowed, and Rhode turned, angrily warned the man who had carelessly parted the blackout curtains.

“Sorry, Martin,” the man said as he came up. Martin recognized the voice of Guy Deressa, the civilian responsible for convoy loading.

They stood together, looking toward the silver-grey shape of the river a quarter-mile away.

“Anything new?” Martin asked Deressa.

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