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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Permanent Perigee  part 1 of 1  (NND)


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                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                  Andrew Roller Presents
 
                                     PERMANENT PERIGEE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/


         Anton was hungry.  He peered through the gloom at the
bulkhead.  A winding flight of stairs clung to the upright partition.  A
clutter of splintered crates and heavy appliances lay at the bottom of
the stairway.  A tangle of corpses sprawled amidst the makeshift
barrier.  Anton wondered whether there were any dead Controllers left in
the heap.
         Someone near Anton coughed up phlegm.  All around him dark
figures crept forward through the knot of charred bushes.
         "Now!"  a hoarse voice cried.
         The band of people rushed forward.  Gunfire burst from the
landing at the top of the stairs.  A woman near Anton screamed.  He ran
faster.  A toppled refrigerator loomed in the darkness.  Anton dove
behind it.  The door was missing.  He pulled a limp form from the
refrigerator.  Was it a Controller?  Anton recognized the face.  It was
Viola.
         Anton crawled inside the gutted appliance.  It smelled of
rotted flesh.  Several bullets ricocheted off the refrigerator.  Anton
gazed back at the clump of bare shrubbery.  It was twenty meters behind
him.  Anton heard a shout and the enfilade abruptly ceased.  He surmised
that someone had crawled up the stairs and killed the sniper.  Anton
licked his lips.  He rolled out of the refrigerator and leapt over it.
         Anton joined the group as it clambered up the stairs.  A minute
later he was on the landing.  Anton stepped onto the terrace atop the
bulkhead.  He cast his eyes about in search of the sharpshooter's body. 
It was gone.  Anton spied two men huddled in a corner.  One caught
Anton's gaze and eyed him maliciously.  Anton quickly looked away.
         Several overturned tables gave the only indication that the
veranda had once been a restaurant.  Great panes of translucent glass
had once formed the back wall of the gallery.  Now rows of cinder blocks
walled off the control center of the space colony.  Several burly men
beat on a steel door set in the wall.  Anton drew a sharp kitchen knife
from his belt.  All his life he had wanted to get inside the control
center.  His mind raced with visions of what must lay inside.  He
drooled at the thought of the succulent inhabitants.  
         Lori worked quickly.  She pressed a series of bright buttons on
a console.
         "Novosibirsk Two, this is the Calendonia," Lori reported in
Russian.  "We should have a docking procedure worked out in five
minutes, max."  She shouted to be heard above the din outside the
control room.
         "Repeat please, Calendonia," the Soviets requested.
         Lori spun about in her chair and yelled to a man across the
room.
         "Can't you stop that riot out there?"
         "Lori," the man replied gently.  "There are only three of us
now."  Lori's face went pale.
         "Where's Robbie?"  Lori shrieked.
         A man poring over sheets of computer printouts looked up and
shouted, "He's in the stomaches of those bastards outside!"
         Lori began to sob.
         "Still can't read you, Calendonia," the voice from the space
freighter Novosibirsk Two crackled through Lori's desk top receiver.
         Anton pummeled the cinderblock wall with a wrought iron table
leg.  He had already beaten through one layer of blocks, he was working
on the second.  Suddenly the reverberating din was broken by whoops of
triumph.  Anton turned to see figures scrambling through a hole that had
been knocked in the wall.
         A salvo of shot streamed out of the cavity.  The crowd pressed
Anton toward the opening.  Then, suddenly, the fusillade stopped.  Anton
climbed through the gap.  For a moment he just stood and gaped at the
long rows of blinking computer banks.  Then Anton ran forward, propelled
by the emptiness in his stomach.
         The lifelong dreams of everyone in the room were shattered in
the next few minutes.  The lives of Lori and her two companions ended in
a nightmare as their last refuge in the space colony was overrun and
they, and their scant supplies of food, were devoured by the first
cannibals to get through the broken wall alive.  Anton's dream, shared
by the people in the assemblage milling about, that the control room was
a bounteous cornucopia of palatable delights that had been withheld from
him by evil Controllers who had hoped to starve him and force him to
engage in perverse ways of satisfying his stomach, crumbled quickly with
every passing emaciated second.  Anton smashed his table leg against a
gleaming cabinet in frustration, breaking an array of Formica panels and
the delicate circuitry beneath.  Anton snarled at a glowing screen above
the cabinet.  He couldn't read the type that flashed upon it.

Priority:  Alpha.

Subject:  Space colony Calendonia.

Subject description:  Contains the last Homo sapiens known to exist
after the War.  See amendment.

Priority description:  Subject's orbit around the Earth decaying
rapidly.  Subject to reenter Earth's atmosphere in 12:47 minutes.

Amendment:  Space freighter discovered 02:05 days ago.  Name: 
Novosibirsk Two.  Condition:  Good.  (See record 4B715-H for available
details.)  Occupants:  Undetermined number of Homo sapiens (estimate
27), all male.  Results of contact:  Expressed willingness to dock with
subject and pull it to a higher orbit.

Priority:  Alpha.

         Anton rammed his table leg through the screen.  His gnarled
hands tore open the television.
         "The Controllers must be hiding!"  he conjectured.
         Anton seized a desk top receiver.  He was stunned when a voice
spoke from it.
         "Calendonia, this is Novosibirsk Two," it identified itself in
Russian.  To Anton it could have identified itself in Igorot.
         "We regret to inform you that you have now entered Earth's
atmosphere.  We no longer have the ability to aid you.  We're very sorry
things worked out this way.  We'll miss you."
         Anton seized the speaker.
         "There they are!"  he guessed.  "The Controllers are hiding in
there!"  Anton ripped off the plastic housing.  His stubby fingers dug
out a lattice of wires.  Nothing.
         All around Anton the mob went mad.  A man was trampled to death
in the desperate search for food.  The multitude fought to determine who
would get to consume him.  More people were killed in the scuffle. 
Frustration turned to rage.
         Perspiration streamed down Anton's forehead and stung his
eyes.  He leapt into the confluence.  Anton threw a woman out of his way
as he struggled to reach the food at the center of the throng.  The
woman fell against one of the control room's three metal walls.  In the
last few minutes the wall had become very hot.  It scalded the woman. 
The horde became delirious at the smell of roasted flesh.  It knocked
Anton down and rushed toward the wall.  Suddenly the room tipped on its
side.
         Anton dazedly lifted his bruised face off the floor.  He
couldn't believe his eyes.  His dreams had come true after all.  Below
him, against the wall, lay two dozen broiled bodies.  Anton began to
climb over a fallen file cabinet.  With a roar a sheet of flame burst
through the floor just beyond the cabinet, blocking Anton's view of the
carcasses.  The fire seared Anton.  He was surprised beyond belief.  His
entire physique was metamorphosing into food.  Anton eagerly bent
forward and bit into his forearm.  

THE END

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