Return From Omina

by Roland Starr

  “I think you’ve more than done your duty, Captain,” he said. “In my estimation we have to cut our losses now and pull out.”

  “And is that a satisfactory way out of it?” Vonner demanded. “Supposing we fail to destroy Bardo after evacuating this ship? Bardo will be loose in the area, and who knows what might happen then? Could he not make his own way to Earth under that mysterious power driving him?”

  Curran nodded thoughtfully. “The more we discuss this the worse it all seems, and more hopeless becomes our case.” He shook his head wearily. “At the moment we’re holding him! But we’re destroying part of the ship in doing so. If we bring in added power we’re likely to do more damage than we can afford.”

  “That’s only one of the problems facing us!” Vonner stared hard at Bardo’s writhing figure. “This is a nightmare that just doesn’t end.”

  “But we’re holding him!” There was flat satisfaction in Curran’s voice. “All we need now is that extra push!”

  Wayland came into the corridor, his face grim. Vonner stared at the Chief, sensing that something had gone wrong, and as soon as Wayland began to speak it was obvious that trouble had come.

  “I’m going to have to cut down power expenditure, Captain,” the Chief said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know how, but Bardo is causing damage to some of my circuits. Unless it’s the work of those cannon you’re using.”

  “We can’t reduce power by one iota, Dalus,” Vonner retorted. “Not yet! Let’s see if we can push Bardo out of the ship.”

  “Don’t forget the pressure problem,” Curran cut in.

  “Let me reduce power to a level that will still hold Bardo, but permit me to check out the trouble I’m getting,”

  Wayland suggested. “When I get that straightened out we can go on with the rest of the plan.”

  “All right!” Vonner let his reluctance sound in his tones, and saw Wayland grimace, for they both knew the exact situation. “But I’m tempted to abandon this ship and destroy it, before we get too deeply involved in this business. Yet I know I dare not risk that because Bardo might escape us. If he gets loose in the universe there’s no telling what might happen in the future.”

  “We’ve got to see this through to the bitter end, Captain,” Curran said. “Send for the two atomic cannon aboard Alba. Bring them into operation against Bardo and we’ll lick him!”

  “Alba has its deflector shields up now, and I am not having them taken down until this has been settled.” Vonner spoke firmly. “Dalus, do your checking! Time is the most vital element in this battle. Don’t let us waste any of it.” Wayland smiled grimly and departed, and moments later Vonner saw the gauges on the weapons begin to show less output. He watched the strange figure of Bardo intently, half expecting an increase in its resistance, but the force fields were holding and Bardo was impotent against them.

  But the corridor was a wreck, and the observation rooms were now one large area instead of a half dozen single cubicles. Several walls had disappeared entirely, and nothing but the invisible force fields kept Bardo within bounds. Yet the figure resisted the terrific bombardment directed at it, and Vonner could only wonder at its endurance. As he had understood it from the doctor, Bardo’s mind had widened its horizons and assumed a multiplication of power. But he did not think any human power could withstand the disintegrating forces that had been applied. All of this was beyond his understanding, and he forced himself to concentrate upon the essentials. They had to keep prodding away at Bardo until they had beaten him, and the threat which he posed.

  Vonner went along to the engine room, to find Wayland and his assistant busily checking the circuits. Both were using testers, and Wayland looked hot and worried. But he paused at Vonner’s approach and shook his head.

  “This is a hopeless business!” he commented. “Where do we start to locate this trouble quickly?”

  “Don’t you have any clues, Dalus?” Vonner was surprised. His experience of the Chief Engineer’s skill was that Wayland could make an immediate diagnosis of any trouble. “If you’re not finding any tangible damage then I suggest that Bardo is somehow influencing the output of power.”

  “That’s probably the answer, but I can’t be sure, and I need to make this check. The gauges were pushing their needles into the danger areas, and we can’t risk a breakdown of power at this time. Once Bardo gets free of our influence there’ll be no way we can get him under control again.”

  “What do you think I should do?” Vonner demanded. “You’re one of the most experienced men in the crew, Dalus. How can we break this deadlock?”

  “It’s got me beaten!” Wayland admitted bitterly. “If we push Bardo out into space we’ll make ourselves secure aboard ship, but what happens then?”

  “We’ll worry about that when the time comes. All I’m concerned with at the moment is getting him out of the ship. Can we do that in the way I suggested?”

  “What was Curran talking about when he mentioned pressure?” Wayland’s eyes held a calculating glitter.

  “If we take out the hull we’re going to depressurise part of the ship. If we’re in the area we’ll be sucked out into Space. What can we do about that?” Vonner spoke in matter of fact tones.

  “Lifelines!” Wayland grimaced. “It’s the best I can come up with at short notice. We’ll all be wearing space suits. We should have a fifty-fifty chance of survival.”

  “Right. When you’ve finished here and you’re satisfied we can renew the battle, then come and see me and we’ll take a look at a diagram of the ship and work out the best route to force Bardo along. Then you’ll have to set up your force fields accordingly and we’ll begin the action once again.”

  “All right.” Wayland nodded, turning back to his task. “But bear in mind that when we start again we won’t be able to break off our action until Bardo is done for or we are. The ship won’t stand this strain much longer. Something will give, and I’m inclined to believe it will be the main drive. The do or die attempt is on the cards, Captain!”

  Vonner nodded soberly, and there was a grim smile on his thin lips as he departed. He had known all along that it would come to this. They were on a suicide task, and from his experience in this matter he felt that they were doomed to failure no matter what they tried to come up with. Bardo had too much power for them. Bardo had to be destroyed before they could consider themselves safe, and Orion was just not capable of producing the knock-out. It seemed as simple as that, and Vonner, on his way back to the sickbay, felt a dire need to keep the situation simple. He was coming to the end of his resources, and like the ship, there had to be a limit to what could be done. The ironical fact of the whole matter was that Bardo was the only factor apparently able to go on indefinitely, and that meant more than a stalemate. It signified that Bardo would eventually be victorious.

  It was while he was still on his way back to the scene of the battle that Vonner experienced a shock. He staggered as the entire ship vibrated with tremendous concussion, and the next instant he was flung upon his face and sent sliding down the tilting corridor. Furious stresses attacked him even through the protection of his space suit, and he guessed, as his senses fluttered and threatened to leave him, that an explosion had taken place. It was so powerful that the entire ship was thrust out of its orbital flight, and as he clutched for handholds to stop his headlong fall, Vonner feared that Orion was pitching in towards the planet, completely out of control and certainly doomed.

  CHAPTER XIII

  A strange pressure dragged Vonner along the corridor, and he grabbed desperately for a handhold to stop his headlong plunge. But the floor was smooth and even and there were no projections. He realised that his senses were spinning dizzily, and experience warned that the gravitational fields within the ship had been dislocated. Orion appeared to be standing on its nose now, and the slope of the corridor became steeper with each fleeting second. The tilting floor sent him even faster into danger, and there was a dull pang of fear in his mind. Then h
e spotted an open door and stuck his hand into it as he was dashed by. His gloved fingers hooked around the doorstall. The space suit sleeve gave strength to his arm and he managed to halt himself.

  Hanging suspended by his arm, Vonner looked around, and a spasm of shock cut through him when he saw part of the corridor on the left had disintegrated. A gaping hole gave him a glimpse of distant stars, and sight of them made him realise that the invisible power which had dragged him along the corridor had been the depressurisation of the area. But now all the air in the compartment had been sucked out into Space. The force that had gripped him no longer existed.

  He gulped as he accepted that there had been a mammoth explosion somewhere on the lower level, and he didn’t need to be told that it must have originated in the sickbay. Dull despair swamped him as he considered the possibilities. He was trapped in this part of the ship, and if he had not been wearing his spacesuit he would certainly be dead now. As it was, he could not enter any other part of the ship because of the air pressure elsewhere. He looked at the gaping hole in the corridor wall, and found himself staring through the chamber beyond, and out into black space.

  There was one chance for him! If he could gain the outer hull and make his way to an airlock and gain admittance then he might manage to get back into an operational part of the ship. The corridor had resumed its normal angle once more, and he knew the auxiliary controls had come automatically into operation. Gyros would maintain Orion on an even keel and steady it in its selected orbit, and he began to feel hopeful once more, for none of the more vital parts of the ship had apparently been damaged.

  He opened his personal communicator and called Curran, waiting long, interminable moments for a reply which did not come, and his lips were compressed as he considered that the explosion must have annihilated all those crewmen down in the sickbay fighting Bardo. Had Bardo caused the explosion? Vonner’s dark eyes glittered. Had Bardo himself been destroyed? Or was he now at large in the ship?

  Vonner called Wayland, aware that the explosion might have emanated from the engine room. There had been a fault that Wayland was trying to track down. But after an ominous silence of several minutes there was a faint crackling sound in Vonner’s ears, and then the communicator began to operate.

  “Wayland here! Who’s calling?”

  “This is Vonner! What happened, Dalus? What about that explosion?”

  “I got a blow-out here in the engine room, but only the equipment went for it. The bulkheads held. The main explosion occurred elsewhere, and caused my blow-out. I suspect it was in the sickbay. All that power we were using against Bardo. I thought and feared it would happen. Are you all right, Captain? I can’t get out of the engine room. Power failure has seized up the doors. What about Curran and those men with him?”

  “I’m on Two Level,” Vonner replied. “There’s been a great deal of damage.” He went on to describe what he could see. “I’ve tried to raise Curran but there’s no reply. This corridor is a vacuum now! I’m going to try and gain access to other parts of the ship through an airlock. Are you wearing your spacesuit, Dalus!”

  “The two of us here are wearing suits, or we’d be dead now,” came the grim reply.

  “What power have you got? Can we stay in orbit?” Vonner kept tension out of his tones by an effort.

  “Auxiliary power is in operation, and as far as I can tell it’s holding. But main drive has gone and all the power units connected to it. Life support systems are being maintained, but you can’t expect much more than that.”

  “We’ve got a chance then. All areas affected by the explosion and depressurised will have sealed themselves off automatically. Try and get out of the engine room, Dalus, and if you can, make your way to a space shuttle bay and try to contact Alba. Report the situation here and warn them to remain behind their deflector shields.”

  “Captain, I must warn you that the auxiliary power will not be able to hold Orion in its orbit indefinitely. We’ll slowly lose the necessary velocity and sink down towards the planet.”

  “We’ll have enough time to do what must be done,” Vonner retorted. “I need to check on Bardo. I want to know what happened down in sickbay!”

  ”Good luck,” Wayland called. “I’m going to try and cut through an inspection hatch and gain an inspection tunnel.”

  “Be careful if you try to go through a depressurised area,” Vonner warned. “You’ll be sucked out into space if you make a mistake.”

  He closed the line and prepared to airswim along the corridor. There was no up or down now, in this area, and he doubled his legs under him and pushed off gently, drifting slowly toward the gaping hole in the wall of the corridor. He turned over several times, and reached out carefully for handholds to control his progress. He eased through the hole, avoiding the buckled steel plates which would have ripped his suit and brought death to him in a matter of seconds. Crossing the chamber beyond the corridor, he clutched at a light bracket to prevent himself passing through the ruptured double hull.

  Peering out through the massive rip in the hull, Vonner stared at the distant stars. He was breathing hard, and his body floated outwards, his legs dangling in space, attracted by the movement of the ship travelling its orbit. But for his tight handhold he would have floated out there into the dark void.

  Easing around the buckled plates, holding tightly to their uneven surface, Vonner left the ship and made his way spiderlike to the nearest exterior ladder, careful to maintain his grip upon the dull steel. When he reached a ladder he held on with both hands and turned to survey the hull. He descended the ladder towards the spot where he knew the sickbay to be, and again found holes and twisted plates. When he peered in through a hole he saw the engine room storerooms, and dragged himself with desperate and dangerous haste into the area, making his way to the sickbay.

  When he had hauled himself through the storerooms and came to the observation rooms, where melted bulkheads testified to the power that had been poured along the passage and corridor to check Bardo, he found a shambles that was practically indescribable. There was no sign of Bardo, and a frown touched Vonner’s forehead as he gazed around. Then he looked at the spot where Curran had been supervising the battle against Bardo, and a pang stabbed through him. The shambles extended to the short corridor, and the cannon were broken, twisted out of shape. The immobiliser was lying on its side, and sparks were arcing along its length. There was no sign of any of the crewmen, but Curran was lying motionless, trapped beneath one of the cannon.

  Swimming towards the colonel, Vonner was fearful as he bent over to examine the man. Curran’s spacesuit was undamaged, but the man’s eyes were closed and he was unconscious. Checking the gauges on the chest of the suit, Vonner discovered that Curran was still breathing, and he turned his attention to the cannon, which had trapped Curran’s legs.

  Afraid that the spacesuit had been ruptured by contact with the twisted, useless weapon, Vonner carefully freed the colonel, and then looked around, wondering how to get Curran to a pressurised area of the ship. He looked around again, wondering what had happened to Bardo, hoping that the depressurisation of the whole area had accomplished what they had tried so desperately to do — drive Bardo clear of the ship.

  Using a length of power cable, Vonner attached Curran to his belt, the line joining them waist to waist, and then he started out through the wreckage of the sickbay, making his way through the shattered hull to the ladders outside, and Curran floated free like a grotesque kite, held in place by the piece of cable. Vonner crawled like a fly towards the nearest undamaged shuttlecraft airlock, and he was breathing heavily when he reached out and punched the exterior activator, aware that if there was no pressure in the airlock the outer door would open automatically and he could gain entrance. But nothing happened and he waited out the agonisingly slow passage of time, hoping against hope that he could gain admittance.

  When he realised that he would have to go on to another airlock he paused to check out Curran, and discover
ed that the colonel was regaining consciousness. Using his communicator, Vonner called Curran’s name, and saw the man’s eyes flicker open. But Curran had no intelligence in his gaze, and Vonner knew his security chief was badly shocked. He went on then, dragging Curran behind, and reached another airlock. This time, when he activated the mechanism, the outer door slid open, and he was sweating with relief as he entered, pulling Curran at his back.

  In a matter of minutes Vonner had closed the outer door and prepared to test for pressure inside the ship. When he hit the inner door activator the door slid open without trouble, and Vonner knew he had reached a part of the ship which had not been damaged by the explosion. He dragged Curran into the inner corridor, closed and locked the airlock door, then turned to Curran.

  The colonel’s eyes were open, and a glimmer of sense was showing in their brown depths. Vonner felt greatly relieved. But Curran was a tough individual, very hard to kill.

  “Can you hear me, Philo?” he demanded, and saw Curran lift a hand to operate his communicator.

  “I hear you, Captain!” Curran’s voice was weak and unsteady, tinged with disbelief. “What the hell happened back there in the sickbay?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” Vonner retorted.

  “I wasn’t there when the explosion occurred.”

  “Explosion!” Curran nodded slowly, his forehead beaded with sweat. His heavy face was ashen behind the helmet visor. “That was it! I saw Bardo separate, Captain! Then everything went black.”

  “Separate! What do you mean?”

  “He separated into two images!” Disbelief laced Curran’s tones. “Whether it was the power we were hitting him with I just don’t know. But suddenly there were two of them, and before I could make any judgement upon the phenomenon there was an explosion.” Curran paused. “Have you seen any signs of Bardo since the explosion, Captain?”