He went toward the great televisors, wondering how many stations still broadcast news of the holocaust that had come to the world. A frown tightened dark brows when he saw the dust that lay on the floor, became a scowl when he saw how it was heaped before the main receiver. He kicked at the dust, saw the signet ring that had fallen through it.
Bending, Kimball Trent lifted the gold ring, studied it. Doctor Boyliss had worn it the last time they had talked; it was strange that he should find it here.
He sat in the chair, switched on the main televisor, relaxed as warmth came from the screen, color glowing from green into violet, swirling into the indescribable shade of blue that gave the screen its three dimensional depth of focus.
His hand went to the "repeat" switch, flicked it.
"This is Doctor Boyliss speaking for the last time," a familiar voice said tiredly from the speaker, while the screen showed no figure. "I have just escaped from the Gharrians, but the wound I have received is mortal, and I can live but moments." There was only the sound of labored breathing for seconds, then the voice continued.
"Most of the leaders are dead, betrayed by spies; only three of us escaped the Gharrian's last raid. Thompson and Fortney have elected to act as guides for the few of you who might escape the final series of raids. I hope that many of you are listening to these final words of mine.
"Kimball Trent is also dead, frozen to death by an explosion in the Refrigerator Room, Number One; therefore his knowledge must be replaced by the minds of those among you."
A surge of terrible wracking coughing sounded, followed by the sobbing gasps of a man dying of an agonizing wound. Then:
"One final word. Fight the Gharrians, blast them from the face of Earth, drive them back into hell-space that spawned them. Battle them with every weapon and scheme within your power to use. My blessings upon all of you. Go with God--"
There was only the faintest of thudding sounds, and then silence.
Kimball Trent leaned back in the chair, twisting the ring over and over in his fingers, horror piling upon horror in his mind. His gaze flicked to the perpetual radi-calendar beside the screen, and he read the date, June 9, 2735.