As a double-line of Soviet personnel—-in breathing suits and armed—-emerged from an opened passage and made their way to the two large landing vessels, one of them a hospital ship, he opened the hatch of his own vehicle and moved weakly down the steps.
Colonel Joyce approached him with another, as if for support. Brunner recognized him from an earlier visit—-Chief Scientist Stoltzyn. He had no patience left.
"Why only two Coalition parties? Didn't you contact the other ships?"
"Two will be enough. . .to represent your peoples."
"Represent? What the HELL IS GOING ON?" Some of the Soviet technicians within the enclosure—-there were perhaps two dozen, wheeling in odd gear, among its contents special breathing masks for the Czechs—-looked over in surprise to hear a Soviet Colonel addressed in this way.
But none were more taken back than Joyce himself. He seemed unable to look Brunner in the eye or speak the words he had to speak, a thing which he had never experienced. Finally it was Stoltzyn who spoke.
"There's been some kind of plague."
Brunner felt his heart heave, then fall in upon itself like collapsing leprous flesh. His voice a fainting whisper.
"What? Sergei?"
Joyce finally master himself and spoke, though slowly. "Of the two million inhabitants, perhaps two hundred still live. Five of the six domes are emptied of life. You will be going to the sixth. But I. . .want you to be prepared."