by John Rankine
‘Sealed.’
‘Surely, sealed. But it has to be easier to tackle than this.’
Back at the car, he took a round up of reports. The sector they were in had been a dormitory area. The buildings had been developed on a plan. Three blocks were subdivided into suites of rooms leading off a central corridor. Each unit had a lounge area, with a small food-preparation alcove, a washroom and two bedrooms. The fourth block of each set was for community use. It was divided into public rooms for dining and recreation. The ancient Megaronians had hit a nice balance for the public and private aspirations of those who lived permanently on the base.
What was surprising to each pair of searchers was the way the site had been left. There was no detritus of occupation, no clutter of broken and abandoned gear. The rooms had been systematically cleared out and left as empty shells. There was no glass in any window space, no door in any frame, but there was no rubble of broken shards or shattered woodwork. There was only dust, even and undisturbed on every horizontal surface.
Victor Bergman said, ‘It’s amazing, John. It was an orderly and controlled shutdown. There’s nothing useable to be found. But why go to that trouble if the base was abandoned in a crisis?’
Helena Russell said, ‘In a widespread social disaster, there’d be millions of dispossessed people looking for a place to live. If there was nothing here to attract them, they’d go elsewhere. Places like the one the Outfarers found would offer more. Perhaps that was the point? The organisers of the base took a long view. They didn’t want it overrun. Given the framework intact, they believed they could revitalise it in another age when the troubles were over.’
Koenig said, ‘That speaks of a long-term view, and it means that a cadre of top management was still in control and still on the site and, for that matter, still strong enough to carry out its will. Where did they get to?’
By a kind of group suggestion, all eyes tracked round to look at the monolithic mastaba in the centre of the base. It was giving away no secrets, but the clue to the enigma was there. Nothing short of a direct hit with an atomic warhead could breach its blank walls. There would be room inside to house an army.
Karl said, ‘You must understand that the time you are speaking of is so long gone that we have no records of it. I believe that those who survived the great upheavals were so incensed at the scientific knowledge that had made it possible that they deliberately destroyed all records that could be found.’
Koenig said, ‘It can happen. A burning of the books. Books are blamed rather than the use that people have made of them.’
A quiet man, Urion had hardly spoken since he was bundled into the car. Now he said, ‘Who can say that it is not sometimes necessary? The weeds of evil may thrive more tenaciously than the good seed. When that happens, it may be prudent to burn the whole field and plant afresh.’
It was the definitive statement to end the dialogue. Koenig kicked his jaded mind into action. ‘Where’s this mess hall? We’ll run the car inside and break out some rations. Then a spell of rest.’
After the meal, Urion approached Koenig. ‘I expect, Commander, you will wish to have one member of the party keeping watch. Allow me the privilege of being first.’
Hepa joined him. ‘You and I are the only ones who had some sleep last night. It would be a lonely vigil. I will watch with you.’
Never one to discourage a volunteer, Koenig said, ‘You are right. I had it in mind and I thank you.’
There was not much comfort to be had. But at least it was not cold. Already, there was warmth in the Sun. They dragged squabs out of the car and made a mattress for Helena and Rhoda. The others lay on smooth, thermo-plastic tiling, with bundles of cleaning waste, from the car’s maintenance locker, as a pillow. Koenig slept like a sailor as soon as his head touched down.
Urion’s hand was a centimetre from Koenig’s shoulder when the Alphan’s eyes flicked open and his fingers closed on the butt of his laser. The Outfarer said, ‘You sleep lightly, Commander. I wish you would have slept longer, but the time is up when you said I should wake you.’
‘You did right. Has anything happened?’
‘Nothing, Commander. All is quiet. It is strange here. Both Hepa and I have felt the strangeness, as we sat quietly. It is as if the spirits of those who worked here so long ago were watching us. But as we sensed it, they were not hostile. Rather, they were curious, as though they wanted to know what we would do.’
Koenig debated about whether to waken Helena. On balance, he decided he would have to do it. Her independent spirit would not accept favours, even from him. She would want to work the same stint as anybody else. Hepa settled down in her place and Urion composed himself with his arms crossed on his chest like a stone figure on a catafalque.
The two Alphans made a check of all the stores which had been transferred hurriedly from Eagle Seven. Koenig stripped open a flat pack, which he had judged was a self-inflating dinghy. In fact, it held ten, one-piece white coveralls. The dinghy might have made a bed, but this was even more useful for those still wearing the neoprene wet suits.
When they had changed, he brought out the Eagle communications panel and a maintenance kit from the car. Helena Russell said, ‘Is it worth trying to repair it? Who do we have to communicate with?’
‘It has more range than the car. Who knows? We might hear from Main Mission.’
‘They can’t help us.’
‘True. But I’d like to hear them.’
‘Could we speak to them?’
‘Not by voice. Perhaps by a Morse signal.’
Protective fuses had blown on every circuit. There were no spares. He untwisted a length of multicore lead and bypassed every safety point. It was rough work and any Eagle technician would have turned grey, but he reckoned it would hold up as a temporary repair. When it was done, he carried the panel into the car and searched the instrument spread for a power source.
Helena Russell squatted on her heels and watched him. For her, this was a new side to his character. She said, ‘I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had such a practical flair. I thought top pilots didn’t know what went on under the hood.’
‘I hope I shall always be able to surprise you.’
‘You’ll really surprise me if Paul’s voice comes out of that.’
In the event, it was Sandra’s meticulous tones that sounded very faintly into the car. They looked at each other in silence, each suddenly sidetracked by memories of Moonbase Alpha.
Sandra said, ‘Main Mission to Eagle Seven. Perhaps you can still receive our signal. We will continue to keep this link open as long as there is any remote chance that you could receive our signal. Life signs on the monitors tell us that you are still alive. We wish you good luck, if that can be.’
The immense power of Alpha’s transmitters could push a voice signal over the distance. There was no chance that the jury-rigged panel could match it. Koenig rapidly dismantled the handset and used bare contacts for a make and break. Taking it slowly, he spelled out: ‘Koenig calling Alpha. I read you. Over.’
Even at strength one, there was no mistaking the excitement in Sandra Benes’s voice. ‘Commander! We read you. Is there anything we can do?’
Koenig suddenly recognised that any transmission he made was a homing beacon for Caster’s scout cars if they decided to search. He made it short. ‘We send our greetings. I will call again in two hours. Brief calls only. Out.’
Helena’s eyes were shining. She said, ‘It makes a difference. I don’t feel so isolated.’
‘Eventually they will be out of range.’
‘I know that, but we know now that Alpha is operational again and they know we’re still alive. I can’t explain it, but I still feel better about it.’
Carter and Rhoda took the next stint, then Bergman and Karl. At each watch change, there was a brief contact with the distant base. By mid-afternoon, the whole party was rested and ready for the next thing. They turned naturally to Koenig for a definition of what th
at would be. He said, ‘As I see it, the key to this complex is behind that rock. We have to find the way in. It isn’t wasted time. While we do it we can check out the rest of the site for anything useful. We go together to the next sector, split and search each building, then we go on to the next in line. We’re looking for access to a lower level.’
They had the equipment belts from the wet suits, hung about with sidearms and the vibrators that Carter and Koenig had never discarded. Contact with Alpha had given the four Alphans a new surge of optimism. Rhoda had listened to Sandra’s voice and was glad she was a world away. She had seen Alan Carter’s pleasure and was choosing to put a feminine twist on it. As they walked off she said, ‘This Sandra with the cool voice. Is she very pretty?’
‘Very pretty. You’d like her. Everybody likes Sandra.’
‘You work with her?’
‘She’s our data analyst. Top in the field.’
‘If she is so beautiful and so clever, you must be in love with her.’
Carter suddenly saw the pit that had been dug for him. ‘Ah! Well, no. She had what you would call this pairing arrangement with Paul Morrow.’
‘So she rejected you. But you still love her.’
Carter stopped, took her shoulders and turned her to face him. A simple man, he could only stick to fact as he saw it. He said, ‘I enjoyed living on Alpha with many good friends that I miss, but if it was a choice between Alpha without you and this crazy world of Megaron with you, I guess I should have to choose Megaron.’
Gold-flecked eyes were serious and searching. Then her arms went impulsively round his neck. When they caught up with the column, Koenig and Helena were already searching the first block in the new sector.
It was the first of many and Koenig was driven to the conclusion that all the building on the side they were on was for accommodation. The parallel of the castle was keeping up. The courtyard was for housing the workers. The high command had its place in the tower.
They missed out a number of sectors and rounded the far end of the central rock. There was evidence here also of a huge slab entrance for major equipment. A wide roadway ran straight to the perimeter. On either side, the buildings were long, empty storage sheds. They marked a change in the building plan. The next sector was clearly not for accommodation and might well have been an admin silo. Floors still showed traces of discolouration where hardware had been bolted down.
Victor Bergman said, ‘This looks very like an operations centre, John. They’d administer the outer zone from this point. Flow control for stores coming in. All the thousand and one details to keep tabs on personnel. A kind of city hall.’
Helena Russell had been examining an interior wall. She called, ‘John!’ and the excitement in her voice had the whole party turning to watch her. Palms flat on a slightly corrugated surface, she was lifting a flexible shutter which retracted into a housing in the ceiling.
When it was away for a full due, they stood in a line looking into five elevator cages with dull, bronze gates. Four were closed, intact and undisturbed. The centre one had its gate forced from its hinges and leaned against the back wall. The centre of the floor had been broken through in a ragged opening almost a metre across.
It was the first evidence that others had visited the site after the careful shutdown. Tomb robbers had been at work.
A sound crossed Koenig’s audio threshold and he knew it had been building up for some time before he recognised it. Rhoda was on to it at the same time. She said, ‘An air car!’
Koenig said, ‘Get down. Below window level.’
The hum built to a drone and a racing shadow flicked across the floor. The pilot was flying low, taking a look along the radial avenues.
Lying next to Koenig, Karl said, ‘If he’s observant, he might see traces of where we first landed.’
Koenig said, ‘It’s a long chance, but we can’t ignore it.’ He moved to the open door and looked out. The car had run on to the perimeter and was turning. It flew back the way it had come and went out of sight behind the rock.
Hepa said bitterly, ‘Even here they are hunting us. They are not content even to let us die in our own time.’
With an arm round her shoulders, Urion comforted her, ‘Have courage. It may not come to that. And nobody knows we have come here. Now that they have looked here and not found us, they will look elsewhere.’
Koenig went back to the elevator trunk. Leaning well into the hole, he shone a light down the shaft. Counterweights hung in a channel in the rear wall. Another channel held a broad metal strip perforated with foot- and handholds. It would be possible to hang below the cage on a crossbeam, traverse hand over hand and reach it. He pulled back and explained what he had seen to Bergman.
‘I know you, John. You won’t rest until you’ve taken a look. Perhaps we should bring the car here and make this our base?’
‘I want progress. I’m not satisfied that the car has a nil report. He’ll be in Caster in fifteen minutes. We could have them on our backs again in under the hour. This is the best hideaway we’ve seen yet. But you have a point.’ He turned to Alan Carter. ‘Alan. You and Karl get to the car. Load the gear and bring it along. Meantime, we’ll take a look below. All right?’
‘Check, Commander.’
‘And watch how you go. Just in case that car dropped a foot patrol before we saw it.’
‘I’ll do that.’
Koenig fixed his lamp on a headband and dropped below the cage. Bergman took his place on the floor and watched him move easily across to the ladder. As Koenig’s feet touched the footholds he saw the band shiver and a warning was stillborn in his throat as Koenig’s weight went fully onto it. There was no time to get it out. The Alphan was already slipping away. The band was free to move.
But it was friction loaded. He was going down steadily, but with no acceleration. On a count of ten, the band shivered to a stop and Koenig was looking up the well. ‘Victor.’
‘Yes, John.’
‘There’s a big landing and a corridor going towards the rock. This was the way in for personnel . . . And, Victor . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘No worry about getting back. There’s a locking lever here for the band.’
The light disappeared as he left the bottom of the shaft. Victor Bergman sat back on his heels, his genial ape’s face creased in sudden thought. There was something that did not jell and he was a good minute before he knew what it was. He put it to Helena. ‘Here’s a logical puzzle. This ladder moved down with John’s weight. He says he can fix it solid to climb up. Now, we believe that somebody opened the floor and went down there. How did they climb out?’
‘You’ve just told me. They fixed the ladder so that it was not free to move.’
‘But just now, when we found it, it was free to move. Who released the lever down below?’
‘The last man.’
‘And how did he get out?’
Rhoda had been watching the exchange, looking from one to the other. She said, ‘Unless he used a rope or another ladder, he’s still down there.’
As if on cue, Koenig’s voice reverberated up the shaft. ‘Helena!’
She leaned into the hole in the floor, presenting him with a disembodied head.
‘John?’
‘Your tomb robber. He didn’t get very far. He’s still here.’
‘How did he die?’
‘Violently.’
‘I’ll come down.’
She fixed her headband lamp and made a neat, athletic job of swinging along to the ladder. With more light, it was easier to see the layout. The corridor from the circular landing area was ten metres wide and three metres high. It had once been lit by a continuous lighting strip recessed in the roof. The floor was tessellated with blue and yellow tiles under a thin screen of dust. It led straight as a die to a red corrugated shutter which closed off the far end. Footprints in the dust showed the pattern of Koenig’s sneakers forward and back. One other set, fainter and dusted over, had
a one-way ticket.
Their owner was lying face down, a metre from the shutter, skeletal hands fixed to the sides of his skull, legs drawn up, miming the last human gesture he had made. Something had struck silently and unexpectedly and brought his journey to a full stop.
Koenig said, ‘Not too close. Whatever he ran into might still be operational. I’d say he tripped some relay and triggered a protective force field.’
He looked more closely at the footsteps. They went on to a point beyond where the feet were lying. The killing blow had come at a point somewhere along the site of the corpse. He went forward, half a step at a time, dropped to a full knee bend, keeping his head back, and took hold of the bony ankles. There was so little weight, that he almost fell back. Then he was out of the danger zone, drawing his hollow man after him.
Clothing showed no sign of decay. He was wearing thonged sandals, a fluted metal cloth tabard of silver grey, belted at the waist, and an embroidered chiton almost knee length. Hidden by the body and dragged along with it was a curious, bulbous-nosed handgun.
No stranger to death, Helena Russell shivered. There was something lonely and sad about the dead Megaronian. He had lain there for many centuries, with his violent end unmarked by any rites of passage. After the breakup of the great cities, there would have been many lonely, wandering men and women ending their days in bitterness and isolation. It was, anyway, more than likely to happen to the Alphans themselves, and this was a preview.
She said, ‘I think you must be right. Death was sudden and he had no way of avoiding it. Perhaps it was an automatic device or, perhaps, at that time, the rock was still held and this was a deliberate, selective strike.’
Koenig shone his light slowly over the roof. The tiled roof was solid and showed no opening which might house a beam system. There was a call down the shaft and Helena went to check it out. It was Victor Bergman. ‘Tell John that Alan’s back. No trouble. As far as he can tell, there was no patrol left behind.’
Koenig joined her. ‘I heard that. I’d like you and Alan and Karl down here. What can we use to make a scaffold?’
