Astronomy(64)

“The boy,” she said, “Karel—in some way he was the cause of this whole thing between you and Kriene.”

Malmagden laughed out loud. “What do you take me for? Some sort of pederast? Some sort of—”

“I take you for a heartbroken lover,” Susan said.

Malmagden looked away. He was still smiling his terribly amused smile, but he could not meet her eyes. “He died terribly, didn’t he? Without courage or honor.”

Susan could think of nothing to say. Inexplicably, she found her hand on Malmagden’s shoulder.

“Is it true? Faulkenberg Reservoir, Berlin—this all started as Karel played you off against each other?”

Malmagden shook his head. “This must seem terribly petty for a person of honor such as you.”

“All those people died over some crush?”

“No,” Malmagden shook his head angrily. “They died for their Fatherland. They died for a cause. Only . . .” Malmagden looked back at her for one moment, as if measuring his redemption in her eyes. “Causes are sterile things in warfare. One finds that one cannot love one’s country enough to die for such an abstract thing as patriotism. One cannot hate one’s enemy enough to bomb his wife and child. Sometimes one does terrible things, not out of hatred, but for other reasons, harder to explain to God.”

He became brusque. He showed her his watch. Ten minutes had passed; they were losing time. Susan shoved Charley into the nearest Angle Web bound for Kiel. This time he went; he knew she was coming right behind him.

She listened as he recited the spells. In a moment, he was gone and she was stepping up to follow him.

“Tell me,” Malmagden called after her, in a voice too embarrassed to hope. “If I save these people, if you bring the Navy and they are rescued, is there redemption for me?”

“Redemption is not my department,” she said. “I don’t know.” It was as close as she’d ever come to a decent lie. Any other time she would have been proud.

Malmagden laughed. He made a gesture as if to say it was an inconsequential matter anyway.

“Will you be here when the ship comes?”

“I missed my chance to greet Azathoth at Faulkenberg Reservoir. Maybe I’ll stay here awhile, yes?”

Susan turned and stepped through the Web.

* * *

This last passage through the Web was almost too easy. The repulsive fascination that had chased her each of the previous times she’d traversed it was strangely absent. The darkness seemed less suffocating. Perhaps Azathoth was preoccupied making its way down to Totenburgen Island. She would never know.

Susan felt the warmth of sunlight just ahead of her—Kiel, she realized. Malmagden had made it sound as if the Angle Webs were on the verge of being impassable. But here she was, within sight of home.

Warmth and sunlight touched her face. She had the impression of a street, cloaked in long shadows. She stepped forward, and space collapsed upon her. An ear-splitting concussion she had never heard before attended her passing through the barrier.

She slammed into something hard. She clamped her eyes shut, holding the innocence close for just one more moment. She knew if she opened her eyes she would find herself entombed in granite deep in the earth, or the interior of a steel girder, or maybe find herself nowhere at all.

She felt water on her face. She drew a breath and water filled her mouth and nose.

Panic overwhelmed her. So that was it—the ocean! She clawed for the surface thousands of fathoms over her head.

—And reared back into cool evening air. The sweet, coarse smell of smoke filled her nostrils. A building fire had attracted the attention of a local fire brigade. Water from their hoses had turned the gutter into a cascade.

A fireman from one of Kiel’s local engine companies spotted them lying on the curb. He instructed them to sit still; medical attention was coming. He addressed them in German. He referred to Charley as “Oberstürmführer.”

Susan didn’t understand at first. Then she looked down at the uniform she wore.

Oh, yes.

“Somebody’s going to shoot us,” Shrieve said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

They took each other’s arms and wobbled to their feet.

The wave front pushed out by the collapsing Angle Web caught them from behind.

Susan felt the longing winds of eternity blow across her soul. She saw Yuggoth—Pluto (she had to get used to that name)—spinning cold and wild at the edge of the void. Beyond Pluto awaited Sirius, brilliant and jewel-like.

People in the west called it the Dog Star. The Ancient Greeks called it “Scorcher”; in their time, it came up with the sun, during the Dog Days of summer.