DOORSTEP
By KEITH LAUMER
Illustrated by RITTER
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine February 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The general was bucking for his
other star—and this miserable
contraption bucked right back!
Steadying his elbow on the kitchen table serving as desk, BrigadierGeneral Straut leveled his binoculars and stared out through thesecond-floor window of the farmhouse at the bulky object lying cantedat the edge of the wood lot. He watched the figures moving over andaround the gray mass, then flipped the lever on the field telephone athis elbow.
"How are your boys doing, Major?"
"General, since that box this morning—"
"I know all about the box, Bill. So does Washington by now. What haveyou got that's new?"
"Sir, I haven't got anything to report yet. I have four crews on it,and she still looks impervious as hell."
"Still getting the sounds from inside?"
"Intermittently, General."
"I'm giving you one more hour, Major. I want that thing cracked."
The general dropped the phone back on its cradle and peeled thecellophane from a cigar absently. He had moved fast, he reflected,after the State Police notified him at nine forty-one last night.He had his men on the spot, the area evacuated of civilians, anda preliminary report on its way to Washington by midnight. At twothirty-six, they had discovered the four-inch cube lying on the groundfifteen feet from the huge object—missile, capsule, bomb—whatever itwas. But now—several hours later—nothing new.
The field phone jangled. Straut grabbed it up.
"General, we've discovered a thin spot up on the top side. All we cantell so far is that the wall thickness falls off there...."
"All right. Keep after it, Bill."
This was more like it. If Brigadier General Straut could have thisthing wrapped up by the time Washington awoke to the fact that it wassomething big—well, he'd been waiting a long time for that secondstar. This was his chance, and he would damn well make the most of it.
He looked across the field at the thing. It was half in and half outof the woods, flat-sided, round-ended, featureless. Maybe he should goover and give it a closer look personally. He might spot something theothers were missing. It might blow them all to kingdom come any second;but what the hell, he had earned his star on sheer guts in Normandy. Hestill had 'em.
He keyed the phone. "I'm coming down, Bill," he told the Major.On impulse, he strapped a pistol belt on. Not much use against ahouse-sized bomb, but the heft of it felt good.
The thing looked bigger than ever as the jeep approached it, bumpingacross the muck of the freshly plowed field. From here he could see afaint line running around, just below the juncture of side and top.Major Greer hadn't mentioned that. The line was quite obvious; infact, it was more of a crack.
With a sound like a baseball smacking the catcher's glove, the crackopened, the upper half tilted, men sliding—then impossibly it stoodopen, vibrating, like the roof of a house suddenly lifted. The drivergunned the jeep. There were cries, and a ragged shrilling that setStraut's teeth on edge. The men were running