by E. C. Tubb
Mathias said, ‘They still have Helena.’
Something which Koenig had not forgotten. He remembered how she looked when carried away on the stretcher, how she still looked with the mask of the respirator clamped to her face, the mechanical pump maintaining her life.
When the effect of the drug had passed, what then? Would the thing who controlled her send her back to the computer to relay still more information? Working her like a helpless beast until she died?
Koenig dropped his hand to his belt, lifted the commlock. To the operator he said, ‘Get me Anderson.’
‘Commander?’ The Chief Engineer looked from the screen.
‘How long before that Eagle’s ready?’
‘Six hours at least.’
‘Make it five, less if you can. Cut the reinforcing if you have to, but get it ready. This is an emergency.’
‘The tests—’
‘Will be made in flight.’ Lowering the commlock Koenig said, ‘Doctor, can you keep Helena relaxed under curare for that long?’
‘As long as we maintain respiration, yes.’
‘Good. I don’t want that thing riding her to get back in control. I don’t want them to know what we intend.’
‘And that is?’ Bergman frowned as he read Koenig’s expression. ‘John! You can’t! The ship isn’t ready, the field generator needs to be tested. The missiles—anything could go wrong.’
‘We can’t wait, Victor. As soon as that Eagle is ready we attack!’
It was Mankind’s ancient solution to any threat—kill before being killed. A system which had led to mistakes but which had enabled them to survive. What had proved to be a workable philosophy on Earth could apply equally as well now they were among the stars. And the aliens had struck first, if Koenig needed justification that was enough.
‘Systems checked and all go, Commander.’ Carter had insisted on coming. He sat in the pilot’s chair hands dancing over the controls, eyes reading the meters. ‘Can’t tell about the generator, yet.’
‘We’ll test that once we lift.’ Koenig glanced at the screen, now filled with Bergman’s face. ‘Is everything ready, Victor?’
‘Five long-range missiles fitted with nuclear warheads aimed and ready to go. If you don’t come back, John—’
‘Then you take over full command. Use those missiles to blast the sphere. You might be lucky.’
And, if he wasn’t, he, Helena, all of them could die.
Bergman’s face vanished to be replaced by Morrow’s.
‘Monitoring, Commander. Lift-off on three . . . two . . . one . . . go!’
The Eagle rose, the pad falling beneath it as it gained altitude, the complex of the base taking on a toy-like appearance. In the ports the sphere steadied, grew larger as Carter fed power to the engines.
‘No sweat as yet,’ he commented. ‘We rode easy until we reckoned there must be strong eddy currents setting up drifting vortices. Jim touched the outer nimbus and then the trouble started.’ He paused, then said grimly, ‘Jim—I owe something for that.’
‘They needn’t be human, Alan.’
‘Men, machines or jelly in a jar—they’re going to pay. Not just for Jim, he took his chances, but what about Clifford?’
Clifford and Helena, now lying comatose, aware but unable to use a muscle, needing forced respiration in order to stay alive.
From the screen Morrow said, ‘External forces building. Ion level increasing. Watch your monitors.’
An unnecessary reminder. Koenig had kept his eye on the dials. Now he dropped his hand to an added control.
‘Time to test Victor’s brainchild, Alan. You ready?’
‘Anytime you are, Commander.’
‘Paul, I’m going to start the generator. If it works we’ll be out of communication.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
‘We’ll worry about that when it happens. Check your instruments. Now!’
The control moved beneath Koenig’s hand. From the passenger module at his rear came a thin whine which rose higher, higher, jarring the bones of his skull before it lifted into ultra-sonic vibration beyond the limits of audibility.
Carter released his breath in a gusting sigh. ‘It works. Commander, it works!’
Around the Eagle shimmered a veil of light, a coruscation of broken rainbows, scintillating, shifting, a screen of lambent brilliance as if ten billion fish scales had joined in a composite whole. A veil which cut them off from the normal universe, which protected them against anything the aliens might send their way. In theory—but one yet to be fully tested.
Carter grunted as he watched his meters. ‘Nothing registers, sir. We’re flying blind.’
‘I can fix that.’ Koenig adjusted the control. Before him the ports flared to life, filled with orange, radiation which had seeped through the screen, persistency of vision giving it the appearance of a stable image. It was an optical illusion, the antigrav shield was flickering, on nine tenths of the time, the minute fraction of time it was off allowing the sensors to relay their information. A danger, electro-magnetic energy travelled at the speed of light, but one which had to be accepted if they were to maintain their course.
And, already, they were veering far to one side.
Carter quickly made the correction. ‘This is what happened before, Commander. We compensated them and just kept going. That’s when they projected that beam of light.’
‘Aim dead centre and lock controls.’ The shield would nullify further external forces, the automatic pilot take them where they wanted to go. Koenig locked the shield solid as he saw a sudden gust of brilliance. ‘Here it comes.’
He was a fraction late, no muscle could work as fast as light, no brain think at the speed of moving electrons. He felt a sudden dizziness, a momentary vertigo, then it was over, the vibration of the hull increasing so that it quivered beneath his hand, sympathetic resonances building so that the very metal sang in muted harmony.
‘Commander, if this thing has a solid core we must be close.’
Koenig’s hand tensed on the shield control. Remove it too soon and they would be exposed to danger, too late—he didn’t know what would happen then. Nothing, perhaps, the shield would protect them from impact, but this was no time to find out.
He moved the control, blinked at what he saw, thrust it hard into its slot. The shield died, dimming out as the whine resounded, falling into a drone, to fade into a quivering whisper. Below them a smooth ball of rock, above them an orange sky.
It rippled like water as seen below the surface, a shimmering expanse of clouded light, eye-bright, glowing. The ball was vast, yet small in comparison to the external size of the sphere. This was the solid core Koenig had guessed must exist.
As he watched a portion opened like an iris, revealing a dark tunnel. Streamers of light sprang from the opening, gripped the Eagle and drew it downwards. Light which had lifted like a reaching hand to imprison a fly, to carry the ship down into a region of utter darkness, to set it down and to withdraw. Light when diffused into a pale glow revealing a colossal chamber lined with instruments. And a panel which held a brain.
It had to be a brain, but one which had never originated in any human skull. The size for one thing, it was all of fifty feet across, the eye for another, a single orb which stared with unblinking steadiness. A living thing encased in crystal and metal—an entity which spoke.
‘Commander John Koenig. Captain Alan Carter. You may leave your vessel.’
Words which thrummed from the metal of the hull, the diaphragms of the speakers, the tympani of their ears. Words carried on a shaft of light which had sprung from below the encased brain and which now illuminated the nose of the Eagle.
Words and names learned from Clifford and, perhaps, Helena.
Again came the invitation.
‘You may leave your vessel. You have nothing to fear.’
‘Come into my parlour,’ said Carter dryly. ‘Well, sir, do we go?’
‘I go, you stay. If an
ything goes wrong blast that thing with the missiles. Use the shield-switch, you know what to do.’ Koenig unstrapped himself from the chair. Like Carter he was suited and slammed down his helmet as he stepped towards the air-lock. ‘And, if you have to fire don’t hang around. Make full speed back to base. That’s an order.’
And, perhaps, the last one he would give, thought Koenig as he stepped from the port.
The Eagle rested on something smooth and flat, metal or polished stone, it could have been either. Looking up and around he could see no sign of the tunnel down which they had been drawn. If it had been a tunnel. If the science of these aliens hadn’t enabled them to pass matter through matter, the impression of a tunnel only an illusion.
As the brain itself could have been the depiction of something totally strange, made familiar only because of his need to fit alien symbols into a familiar pattern.
A beam of light touched his helmet and, with it, came the familiar voice.
‘Why are you here? What do you want?’
‘Release. You have killed two of our number and are controlling a third. This I take to be a hostile act.’
‘A necessary one.’
‘Necessary for whom? You? Are we so dangerous that you had to take the actions you have?’
‘Dangerous? No.’
‘Then what is your reason?’
‘Investigations must be made. The death of any entity is to be deplored, but information must be collected and collated. It is the purpose of my being.’
‘Are you a living thing or a machine?’
‘The terms are synonymous.’
‘Not to us.’ Koenig turned, stepped to one side, a step which took him closer to the Eagle. The shaft of light followed, a communication channel, obviously, and Carter would be hearing what was said over the suit radio. ‘Where are you from?’
‘A great distance.’
Koenig rephrased the question. ‘From where did you originate? Triton?’
‘You have been told that.’
‘A satelite of Neptune? The eighth planet of the sun?’
‘That is so.’
‘And how long is it since you left?’
‘More than a revolution of our primary about the sun. I have travelled far, seeking, learning, discovered potential enemies. You are such an enemy. You, your race, has advanced too quickly. This I have learned as I will learn more. When all has been assimilated then you will be destroyed. So it has been ordered.’
‘By whom? Your creators?’
‘Those who instructed me.’
A machine then, a thing built for a purpose, a probe-scout as he had surmised. A thing built of a combination of living tissue and electronic components sent on a roving commission. And one out of touch with recent events.
Not surprising, Neptune took almost 168 years to orbit the sun. The probe had left about two centuries ago and was now on its way back to report. It would have no idea as yet that its world had vanished.
A chance and one which Koenig took.
He said, ‘Your orders have been nullified. Those whom you serve no longer exist.’
‘You lie.’
‘Check and find out. You can check?’
‘I . . . you lie!’
‘Our computer holds reliable information. Everything we know and have learned resides in the memory banks. There you will find I speak the truth. Allow us to communicate to our fellows and I will prove it. You agree?’
‘My control—’
‘Helena? She no longer operates. I know. It will be restored for as long as necessary.’ Koenig’s voice grew harsh. ‘You will accept the truth and release her. If not I will destroy you.’
‘You cannot. You lack the power.’
‘Shall we put it to the test?’
‘You lack the power. Your vessel is unarmed. No Eagle of your command carries offensive weaponry. This I know.’
From Clifford and Helena, but the missiles had been fitted after the death of one and before the return of the other. Neither had known and, not knowing, could not tell.
Turning Koenig dived into the port.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It slammed behind him as the chamber filled with light, thick ropes of luminescence coiling, lashing like the thongs of whips, wreathing the Eagle in a tightening embrace.
Metal creaked as Koenig flung himself towards the control chair, and the shield-lever falling beneath his hand, the thin whine mounting, rising, jarring ears and teeth, rising to ultra-sonic silence.
The creaking stopped, the ropes of light sliced off as if with a knife. In the sudden silence Carter’s voice sounded unnaturally loud.
‘What the hell’s happening, Commander?’
‘The thing made a mistake and it’s just realized it. It didn’t know we were armed. Now it’s trying to destroy us before we hit it where it hurts.’
‘The missiles? We can’t fire them with the shield up.’
An impasse, but one which wouldn’t last long. If the shield held they were safe and the thing must know it. Once it admitted failure then communication could be restored.
Koenig waited, then gently moved the shield control. Light flashed on the ports, a solid beam of radiance, yellow turning to orange as he watched.
In the glow writhed the naked brain, the single glowing eye.
Koenig said, ‘You cannot harm us. We penetrated your force screen. We can destroy you if we wish. Are you willing to come to an agreement?’
‘Your base is in my power.’
‘True, but what good would it do you to destroy it? Your mission is to learn. I am willing to teach. Will you accept the truth? If your planet no longer exists then you have no reason to threaten us. Agreed?’
‘That is so.’
‘Then open a channel.’ Koenig dropped the shield. ‘Our missiles are on automatic release. Attempt to damage us and they will fire. Mutual destruction will gain neither of us an advantage.’
Logic which a man might not accept but a machine would. Carter sighed his relief as Morrow’s face appeared on the screen.
‘Contact, Commander. You think you can trust that thing?’
‘It’s worth a try.’ Koenig turned to the Main Mission Controller. ‘Paul, get Mathias. Hurry!’ To the doctor he said. ‘Revive Helena. She’ll head for the computer but don’t try to stop her. Have Kano set it to give full astronomical information. Just that and nothing else. He can fit a stop-relay.’
‘And Helena?’
‘If I’m right she’ll snap out of it as soon as the computer stops. If not treat her as before. If possible let me know and from then on take orders from Victor. I might not be coming back.’
‘Neither of us will be going back,’ said Carter as Koenig leaned back in the chair. ‘Unless that thing works the tunnel gimmick we’ll never get out of here. We’ll all end in a cloud of radioactive glory.’
A chance they had accepted from the first.
Helena appeared on the screen, looking dazed, pale, her eyes glazed as she moved towards the computer. Flashing light illuminated her face, the highspeed stream of relevant information. As she fell the screen went dark.
‘Man—you did not lie.’
The deep, vibrating tones held a peculiar note. Sorrow? If a machine could feel emotion then it could have been that. Sorrow or regret or perhaps the realization that it no longer had a reason for existing.
A construction, sent to perform a task, returning to find its creators vanished. The world it had known and called its own gone as if it had never been.
Koenig said, ‘Do you acknowledge that Triton no longer exists?’
‘On the basis of available evidence—I acknowledge.’
‘Then your function is negated. Neutralize your force screen.’
‘I . . . do . . . not . . . know’
‘Think!’
‘I . . . data . . . inconsistent . . .’ A pause and then the alien voice resumed with added firmness. ‘Investigation proves the correctness of your information. Pl
us C emergency signal sent and no response received.’
‘So?’
‘You have logic on your side. It is inconceivable that you could present a threat to beings who no longer exist. Therefore I will do as you say.’
Koenig fought the desire to sag with relief.
‘You will neutralize your screen, allow us to leave and release the base?’
‘That is so. I have considered the possiblity of a mistake, but in any case no harm will have been done. You will not survive for long.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘The path you are following will lead you to certain destruction.’
‘Explain!’
The naked brain pulsed, the single eye stared, unblinking, emotionless.
‘A dark area. You cannot avoid it. A black sun which will destroy you. Now—’
‘When?’ Koenig leaned forward, glaring at the single eye. ‘When will we reach it?’
‘—you must go.’
A blaze of light replaced the naked brain, orange coruscations which swirled, writhing, scintillating, ropes and streamers of strange forces projected from a dozen hidden sources.
The Eagle lifted, moved, was suddenly in space gliding over smooth rock beneath a flaming sky. A sky which abruptly vanished.
‘Full power, Alan!’
The ports filled with an image as Carter fed power to the engines. The rugged, pock-marked face of the moon, the rays of Tycho, the glowing beacon of Alpha.
‘It kept its word,’ said Carter. ‘It let us go—but where is it?’
The enigmatic sphere had gone, vanishing from sight as quickly as it had appeared, a tiny mote which was lost among the stars.
Bergman met them as they left the Eagle. He smiled as he gripped Koenig’s hand. ‘Good to see you back, John. And you too, Alan.’
‘Thanks to your screen. I’d better go and report to Anderson, if I don’t he’ll be coming after me with a wrench.’
As the pilot left Koenig said, ‘Helena?’
‘She’s fine. No sign of anything wrong. Mathias is rechecking her now.’
