Space 1999 #10 - Phoenix Of Megaron

by John Rankine

  As the Alphans came into earshot, they heard Golgos reach the key section of his address. ‘. . . That emergency has arrived. I, therefore, invoke Clause Twenty of the Constitution. I declare that the Code is suspended for one month and that military law operates. That means that the defence corps itself is the council. Is that agreed?’

  There was a chorus of assent. The only objection came from Karl, who left Gelanor and strode up the ramp, until he was stopped by the muzzle of a pistol against his chest. He said, ‘You have gone too far, Golgos. The Constitution also says that such a decision can only be taken by a full meeting of Outfarers. You are outside our law.’

  Whatever his expertise as a lawyer, Golgos could react smartly to a situation. As Karl spoke, he saw the Alphans and his pistol was swept round to aim at Helena Russell. He said, ‘Let them join their friends. We will deal with them all at once.’

  Carter’s hand was on the butt of his laser. Koenig saw the move out of the tail of his eye. There was no doubt they could make Golgos pay; but there was no doubt, either, that they would end up dead. He said, ‘Law is law in any community. We accept the need to live by it. What we were trying to do was in the Outfarers’ long-term interest.’

  Another voice joined the dialogue. Melanion had been keeping himself off the centre of the stage, but he came forward. ‘Tried, you say. So all this is for nothing? We have lost our homes on a foolish gamble.’

  Before any of his party could speak, Koenig said, ‘Spadec was alerted. It was as though they knew there would be a visit to the farm. As we reached it, a big force arrived from Caster to guard it. We were lucky to escape. We did not expect congratulations, but at least we should expect credit for working on your behalf.’

  To his relief, there was no further pressure on that one. He had no wish that a signal should go to Caster saying that they had succeeded and that there had been some tampering with the food supplies. If that could be concealed, there was still a delayed-action psychological bomb planted in Caster, which might give the human spirit a new twist.

  Helena Russell and Alan Carter caught his drift. Rhoda, who might have blurted out the truth, was hooked on a different train of thought. She was staring at Melanion, as though seeing him plain for the first time and not liking it. She said bitterly, ‘I don’t understand you, Father. Why are you not with Gelanor and Karl? Why are you against my friends?’

  ‘Your friends, as you call them, have come near to destroying us all. They should never have been accepted in this community. We had come to a balance with Caster. They did not interfere with us as long as we kept within these walls.’

  ‘They beat me. I still have the marks. Or had you not noticed? See!’

  Rhoda ripped down the seals of her suit and peeled off the top half. Aggravated by sea and sand, her stripes were livid and angry.

  Melanion said, ‘Have you no shame, girl? Cover yourself. There was no need for you to be taken. You are headstrong and disobedient. You were outside the prescribed limits. You brought it on yourself. That is no argument.’

  Golgos could see that the clear edges of decision were getting blurred. He said harshly, ‘All this takes us nowhere. The past is past. Move along before I lose all patience.’

  Koenig could read the harmonics. Golgos was young man with a reputation to make. He might well push himself into a situation that could only be resolved by blood. Somebody had to lower the temperature. He said evenly, ‘The majority may be wrong. Nevertheless, it is always right. A community must come to its own decisions. I would only suggest that they are best not taken in haste or on the rebound from a disaster. Believe me, we understand how you must feel. But I would say this. What you have just suffered shows only too clearly that you hold your tenancy here on a thread. The council should think about that, when they plan for the future.’

  Before Golgos or Melanion could reply, he led off to the head of the slipway. The guards stood aside and the three Alphans together with Rhoda joined the party already assembled there.

  Rhoda made a direct line for Gelanor. There was more than the political angle to worry her. She had a sudden, clear insight that she was emotionally committed to the Alphan captain. Her nerves were raw after the alarms and exertions of a long night and she was near to tears.

  Gelanor put her arms round her daughter in a way she had not done since she was a small child. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Melanion staring down at them both, his thin face set and bitter.

  Events had moved them all to a point of no return. Gelanor was making a private statement to ease her daughter’s mind, where she could see there was a deep hurt. In so doing, she set herself on the wrong side of the law. But her voice was steady and carried the ring of truth. ‘Do not grieve about Melanion, Rhoda. You owe him no duty. He is not your father.’

  Melanion was hearing out loud something he had known for long enough in his mind. It made the fact no more palatable. For a moment, Koenig believed that he would snatch a machine pistol from the nearest guard and shoot both women where they stood. Karl had returned down the slipway to join the Alphans and was about to speak. Guessing what he would say, Koenig took his arm in a vise-like grip. ‘Save it, Karl. It will do no good.’

  Melanion had mastered his sudden rage and was going coldly to work in a different direction. All would be done by the due process of law. He said, ‘We waste time. Let us proceed. Golgos is right. The Constitution allows for martial law. This is an emergency and the people can not meet. The defence corps is the council. I now propose that Golgos, as leader of the defence corps, shall hold the office of dictator while the emergency lasts. Who is in favour?’

  Assent was immediate and total. Military government had voted itself into power. Melanion said, ‘The first act of our leader must be to rid us of these traitors. I also invoke the ancient law against the woman Gelanor, who has broken the solemn undertaking of a twenty-year pairing contract.’

  Golgos could have well done without the complication. But the pairing code was central to the Outfarers’ organisation. A small community, fighting for a toehold in hostile conditions, needed stability and could not afford the tensions of a sexual free-for-all. When a contract was made by a man and a woman, it was ratified by the council and was sacrosanct for a fixed term, however difficult the assenting parties found it. Within living memory, there had been no case of a breach brought to public declaration.

  He needed advice and Melanion was there to give it. Plainly, he was all set to be the grey eminence, the power behind the throne, and the role would suit him. Melanion said, ‘There is no need to take evidence. The offence is admitted before all these witnesses. Sentence can be passed by the leader. It is death or banishment.’

  Karl shook himself free from Koenig and went to Gelanor and Rhoda. Arms round them both and, in a way, glad to have the right at last to do it openly, he said, ‘Then the sentence applies equally to me.’

  There was a stir in the ranks. Karl had been a popular figure and, except in the last difficult days, had commanded respect from all the community. Golgos was no fool and sensed that an extreme sentence might cause dissension. He thumped the hull of a strike craft with the butt of his pistol to get silence. He said, ‘We will follow the rule of law. I decree that Karl and Gelanor are to leave the enclave. They have one hour to collect what things they can carry. Beyond that time, they are declared outlaws and will be shot on sight. Is that agreed?’

  There was not much enthusiasm for it, but the chorus of assent was positive enough. Golgos went on. ‘For the strangers, the case it different. They have broken no law, but they have shown that they are not suitable to be taken into our community. Even at first, there was doubt and the vote to accept them was divided. I reverse that decision. They must go. They also have one hour. Beyond that time, they will be hunted down, if they remain within ten kilometres of this place.’

  Under cover of the vote, which was by acclaim in this case, Victor Bergman looked sharply at Koenig. He said, ‘Is that deliber
ate, John? Is he leaving it open for a death penalty in any event? How do we get out of the proscribed area in that time?’

  The same thought had occurred to Koenig. He said, ‘We have the means. It’s a question of getting out without a guard detachment on our backs.’

  Golgos had one more piece of business. He said, ‘There remains the case against Hepa and Urion. These two councillors supported Karl and the Alphans against our interest. They lose all citizen privileges and revert to the lowest grade of manual work.’

  At a signal from Golgos, the guards at the head of the slipway backed off. The whole defence corps lined the quay, pistols aimed at the group below. For a moment, Koenig believed that the judicial procedure had been a charade and execution would follow anyway. But there was no other move except the silent threat. Time was moving on. He gathered his people and strode up the slope with Victor Bergman beside him. Helena and Carter followed, then Karl and Gelanor, with Rhoda between them. After a moment’s hesitation, Hepa and Urion joined the column.

  Knowing that flight invites pursuit, Koenig kept the pace unhurried until they were through the arch that took them out of sight and brought them to the main quay. Rhoda had not been mentioned on any capital charge. It might occur to Golgos for private reasons, and to Melanion from sheer spite, that she, at least, should be held back.

  They were halfway along the dock when a warning shot whistled overhead and a detachment of guards came through the arch at the double. Koenig snapped out, ‘Get ahead, Alan. Have the slab ready to drop.’ To Karl he said, ‘Get them along. As fast as you like!’

  The refugees were a cover. Random fire would drop more friends than outlaws. But the last twenty metres would be critical. Koenig whipped the rest on and took the rear with his laser set for a wide-angle stun beam. He saw Hepa and Urion with five metres to go for the hatch and caught up as they reached it. All hands heaved on the counterweighted slab and it was down for a full due as a volley slammed into its blank face.

  Koenig heaved down the lever to activate the lock and blasted it with a laser beam that melted it to a stub. Golgos would have to send a detachment out through the strike-craft port to sort it out. But there could be other ways out of the complex. There was no time to hang about.

  Outside, the sky was lighter. The long night had finally moved itself to a new dawn. The ruined tower had never looked attractive. Now it was a disaster area, scorched, drab and evil smelling. The small air car was fully laden with nine passengers and the litter of gear stripped from the wreck of Eagle Seven. She moved sluggishly for a lift-off. Koenig circled the building. Small fires still guttered at the high levels and a thin plume of black smoke was rising against the sky. A dawn wind was wrinkling the surface of the sea.

  Helena said, ‘Where do we go now, John?’

  Koenig followed the military maxim. Never show doubt. Any order is better than no order. Sound as if you had it all buttoned up and could see farther through the wood than the next man. He said, ‘For a first stop, there’s only one place. Victor pointed it out on the map. There’s a deserted space-programme site, as I understand it. We’ll see if there’s any accommodation we can use, until we sort something out.’

  The small car picked up a course and moved inland down the peninsula, away from Caster and the Outfarers both.

  By the time the slab was lifted and Golgos had his defence corps questioning round the site, there was no trace of the quarry and nothing to show which way they might have gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In the dawn light, the central plateau of the small peninsula was stark and barren as a moonscape. Approaching the site on foot, it would have been difficult to build up an intelligent picture of the area, but from the air, they could see it whole. It had been a massive enterprise, a minor city in itself.

  The remnants of a perimeter fence still stood, running in a circle on a diameter that must be all of two kilometres. Set back from the fence was a broad inner wheel, which had been set out in eight arcs for housing development, in squat single-storey blocks with circulation avenues leading to the centre. At the hub of the system was an oval outcrop of rock which had been machine trimmed to a smooth regular shape and lay like a long barrow or a stranded whale. Along its broad back, three immense circular covers lay like pan lids on a cooker.

  Bergman, fairly bouncing on his seat, called the pilot. ‘Do you see that, John? Launching silos. Intercontinental ballistic vehicles. Or missiles? Is it a defence system?’

  Karl answered him. ‘You understand, Professor, this is outside our experience; but what we have pieced together of our history says that it is neither of those things. We know that the Megaronians of the great cities had launched ships into space. This was one of the great centres of the space programme.’

  Koenig took them down to a perfect landing at the end of an avenue, where a clear paved area surrounded the bank of silos. From ground level, the scale was suddenly enormous. They were midgets in a giant’s playpen. Fully staffed, the base might well have been home and work place for twenty thousand people. They had it to themselves.

  Koenig could not say what he had expected to find, but he knew for a truth that unless he got his party on load, the sheer, depressing weight of their surroundings would sap their will to move. He said, ‘First things first. We’ll look around this sector. I’d like to get the car out of sight. Just in case Mestor gets a signal and takes it into his head to look for us. Then a roof over our heads.’

  Helena Russell, never far off his wavelength, said, ‘We have the medical kit from Eagle Seven. I can run tests on any water supply we find. But what about food, John? Rationed out, those emergency packs won’t stretch much beyond a week for nine.’

  ‘Then we have a week to get something organised. Conference on that as soon as we’re settled in. As of now, split up in twos and search about. Don’t be too particular. It’s a warm climate; we don’t need anything fancy.’

  Helena Russell joined him and the others moved slowly away from the car. He could see the lines of strain on her fine-boned face. Wide-spaced eyes were enormous. He said, ‘I’m sorry, Helena. You must be tired out. It won’t be long. Then we can catch up on some sleep.’

  ‘No more tired than you must be. You’ve had the extra strain of thinking ahead for us. I’m the doctor. I should be prescribing a rest for you. What do you really think, John? Can we make anything of this place?’

  ‘There’s no choice. Not in the short term. In the long term, who knows? There were life signs from other areas. Maybe they haven’t all opted for the way of life in Caster. We have the car. Alan can check what range it gives us on the fuel that’s left. There are endless possibilities. This is a very select party. We have a medico, a scientist who has a flair for improvisation and people who have made a life on this planet out of the rubble of one city. The life force, or whatever it is, that brought us this far, hasn’t done with us yet.’

  Hands behind her back she said, ‘I suppose I needed a lecture. All right, let’s go. Where do we look first? Mind you, I think I know what you’d like me to say. The others will find a house. We’ll look at that launch silo or whatever it is.’

  They crossed the wide pavement hand in hand. When they were close, the natural-rock wall towered up like a smooth cliff. It was a tribute to human skill and ingenuity. The builders had found a natural landscape feature and adapted it for their purposes. Its immense mass would give thermal and acoustic insulation for even a rocket blasting out of a silo. It would be a radiation screen also. Koenig leaned both palms on the flat rock and said slowly, ‘When this civilisation ran out of steam and the war lords were saturating themselves and everybody else with nuclear fallout, a place like this would be as safe as a deep shelter. The last men here cleaned up and left it tidy. Men like Victor. What would they think?’

  ‘That there was a long night coming, but that in the distant future the work might start again.’

  ‘Like a pharaoh, building his pyramid to outlast the millenia.’


  She could have reminded him that the elaborate tombs hardly lasted a decade before tomb robbers had bored their beetle way into the treasure vaults, but she kept it to herself. Enthusiasm was as good a stimulant as any drug in the pack. Disappointment was one thing, at least, that could wait until tomorrow.

  They were about a third of the way along the long axis of the great hump of rock. They walked slowly to the nearer end, examining the side for some way of access. There was none.

  Koenig said, ‘They’d need to get in there with heavy servicing gear. Fuel, maintenance, supplies of all kinds. Maybe it all went by underground roadways. But from where?’

  Round the corner, he found part of his answer, but they had to stand well back to see it plain. The scale was so vast that at close quarters the edges were lost. Fifty metres wide and twenty metres high, there was a single slab, textured to meld into the face, but showing a faint colour change that marked it out as a single unit.

  Helena said, ‘There’s your way in, John. But how in heaven’s name do you open it?’

  It was a good question. There were no easy answers to it. Koenig thought aloud. ‘It’s like the keep of a motte and bailey castle. A last ditch home for the defenders. This one they fix so that there’s no way in from outside. So it has to be opened from the inside. Because the people who were inside would not expect to stay inside forever.’

  ‘So we get inside and then we can let ourselves out? You’ve lost me.’

  ‘But what else did they have in a Norman keep?’

  ‘A well? A dungeon? A bolt hole? That’s what you’re getting at. They had a bolt hole. If the day was finally lost, they could get out under the moat and come up behind the enemy. Is that what you mean?’

  ‘Something like that. But I was thinking that you don’t open a massive entrance like this one every time a crewman goes off duty. This isn’t for personnel. Somewhere we’ll find underground access for people.’