"They know what their equipment has told them, and will be briefed by the rest of us as soon as we know ourselves. Lieutenant Brunner, if you are unwell perhaps you should remain behind."
"His wife may be down there, you idiot."
… "I am sorry, Brunner, I did not know. Please don't think me cruel. It is not the first time such a thing has happened, and we may have a very difficult decision to make. Democratic German representation will also be needed—-"
"Why didn't the domes protect them?" he said in a savage whisper.
"I believe they were meant to. Apparently they were breached. That is all I can say now. Please outfit yourselves accordingly and come to the first landing vessel when you are ready."
*
The two landing craft emerged from the whiteness of the Soviet vessel into the blackness of Space, then shortly again into the curved daylight of the desolate planet, reflecting back in a brown haze of impure atmosphere its yellow sun.
The domes drew nearer—-six humps of clearish white spread unevenly across the flat desert floor, standing up from it like supported blisters of the planet itself.
But the blisters had been pierced. Fissure-holes and cracks, some larger, some smaller, were spread across them. The land too, upon closer inspection, was pocked with craters, and littered with ugly shapes of pocked and polished iron.
"Meteors," muttered a voice. Brunner turned to see Second Lieutenant Shellenback seated behind him, head hunched and eyes close, chewing mournfully at his hands, remembered vaguely that he was not the only German to have come looking for family. The faces of the Czech flyers were grave as well. Yes—-he was not alone in his plight. Yet there was little comfort in the fact.