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

Tasso touched the rifle resting in the corner of the room. “Major—”
    “No.” Hendricks shook his head. “Let’s stop it right now. One is enough. We’re afraid, the way he was. If we kill him we’ll be doing what he did to Rudi.”
    Klaus looked gratefully up at him. “Thanks. I was afraid. You understand, don’t you? Now she’s afraid, the way I was. She wants to kill me.”
    “No more killing.” Hendricks moved toward the end of the ladder. “I’m going above and try the transmitter once more. If I can’t get them we’re moving back toward my lines tomorrow morning.”
    Klaus rose quickly. “I’ll come up with you and give you a hand.”
             
    T HE NIGHT AIR was cold. The earth was cooling off. Klaus took a deep breath, filling his lungs. He and Hendricks stepped onto the ground, out of the tunnel. Klaus planted his feet wide apart, the rifle up, watching and listening. Hendricks crouched by the tunnel mouth, tuning the small transmitter.
    “Any luck?” Klaus asked presently.
    “Not yet.”
    “Keep trying. Tell them what happened.”
    Hendricks kept trying. Without success. Finally he lowered the antenna. “It’s useless. They can’t hear me. Or they hear me and won’t answer. Or—”
    “Or they don’t exist.”
    “I’ll try once more.” Hendricks raised the antenna. “Scott, can you hear me? Come in!”
    He listened. There was only static. Then, still very faintly—
    “This is Scott.”
    His fingers tightened. “Scott! Is it you?”
    “This is Scott.”
    Klaus squatted down. “Is it your command?”
    “Scott, listen. Do you understand? About them, the claws. Did you get my message? Did you hear me?”
    “Yes.” Faintly. Almost inaudible. He could hardly make out the word.
    “You got my message? Is everything all right at the bunker? None of them have got in?”
    “Everything is all right.”
    “Have they tried to get in?”
    The voice was weaker.
    “No.”
    Hendricks turned to Klaus. “They’re all right.”
    “Have they been attacked?”
    “No.” Hendricks pressed the phone tighter to his ear. “Scott, I can hardly hear you. Have you notified the Moon Base? Do they know? Are they alerted?”
    No answer.
    “Scott! Can you hear me?”
    Silence.
    Hendricks relaxed, sagging. “Faded out. Must be radiation pools.”
    Hendricks and Klaus looked at each other. Neither of them said anything. After a time Klaus said, “Did it sound like any of your men? Could you identify the voice?”
    “It was too faint.”
    “You couldn’t be certain?”
    “No.”
    “Then it could have been—”
    “I don’t know. Now I’m not sure. Let’s go back down and get the lid closed.”
    They climbed back down the ladder slowly, into the warm cellar. Klaus bolted the lid behind them. Tasso waited for them, her face expressionless.
    “Any luck?” she asked.
    Neither of them answered. “Well?” Klaus said at last. “What do you think, Major? Was it your officer, or was it one of
them
?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Then we’re just where we were before.”
    Hendricks stared down at the floor, his jaw set. “We’ll have to go. To be sure.”
    “Anyhow, we have food here for only a few weeks. We’d have to go up after that, in any case.”
    “Apparently so.”
    “What’s wrong?” Tasso demanded. “Did you get across to your bunker? What’s the matter?”
    “It may have been one of my men,” Hendricks said slowly. “Or it may have been one of
them
. But we’ll never know standing here.” He examined his watch. “Let’s turn in and get some sleep. We want to be up early tomorrow.”
    “Early?”
    “Our best chance to get through the claws should be early in the morning,” Hendricks said.
             
    T HE MORNING WAS crisp and clear. Major Hendricks studied the countryside through his field glasses.
    “See anything?” Klaus said.
    “No.”
    “Can you make out our bunkers?”
    “Which way?”
    “Here.” Klaus took the glasses and adjusted