Space 1999 #2 - Moon Odyssey

by John Rankine

  There was a pause. All eyes watched the screen. Computer’s unemotional voice filled them in, ‘Third planet. Distance from sun 148.8 million kilometres. Diameter 126,816 kilometres. Axial rotation 23 hours 56 minutes.’

  Koenig said, ‘Compare third planet to third planet in Earth’s solar system.’

  ‘Question illogical. Third planet is the third planet of Earth’s solar system. The third planet’s name is Earth planet.’

  The screen was filled with the blue and white whorls of Earth planet. There was no longer any area of doubt. They had come home after their long wandering. It was their Ithaca.

  Computer spoke again into the wondering silence, ‘Moon velocity easing. Gravitational pull confirms moon going into Earth orbit.’

  Patiently, Paul Morrow started over, ‘Moonbase Alpha calling Earth. Come in Alpha Earth Control. Earth Control, do you read me? This is Moonbase Alpha calling Earth Control. Come in Earth Control . . .’

  Only silence answered him and he went off on another tack, ‘We are not receiving you, Earth Control. In the event that you are receiving this signal, we have computer forecast for re-entry into Earth orbit in forty-five hours.’

  Kano said, ‘Gravitational forces are compensating steadily. Shock wave conditions are not expected.’

  Carter was jubilant, ‘That’s just great. We could take an Eagle down for a look right now.’

  ‘But there is no response to our signals. I tell you something’s wrong!’

  ‘I say we should cut the talk and get moving. What’s keeping the Commander?’

  Behind his office door, John Koenig was fighting a rear-guard against conviction. He said to Bergman, ‘Of all the billions of light years of space and after all we’ve been through, it just happens that we come through a phenomenon we can’t begin to understand and find ourselves on exactly the right course to put us back precisely in orbit around the Earth? I can’t accept it, Victor. I know less and less about this universe, but that has to be more than chance.’

  ‘There is an underlying frame of order, John. We can kick it about from time to time. We can make stupid blunders like blasting ourselves out of orbit. But ultimately we belong where we belong. For us that’s on Earth.’

  Morrow blipped on the communications post, ‘Still no contact, Commander.’

  ‘Keep trying. I’ll be right with you.’ He looked at Bergman, ‘What about that, Victor?’

  ‘We’ve guessed at all kinds of disasters on Earth. Maybe we guessed right.’

  In the medicentre, Regina was sitting up and taking notice. She looked more relaxed and at peace with herself. Helena Russell examined the fine smooth skin of her forearm and got a dazzling smile.

  ‘It’s only sunburn.’

  ‘What sun, Regina?’

  ‘What sun could it be? Up there.’ She pointed a slim brown finger at the domed roof and went on, ‘I think they’ve come back, that’s why I’m feeling better.’

  ‘Alan?’

  ‘Yes, my husband and the Commander. Why have they been away so long?’

  ‘You’ve been ill. Fever makes time seem like an eternity.’ She paused, then went on, still fishing, ‘I hadn’t realised you knew him so well.’

  Regina was suddenly agitated again, ‘Where’s Alan? Why doesn’t he come to see me? He is here, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, yes he is.’

  Regina tried to read Helena’s face as though sure there was something being kept from her and her eyes filled with tears. Helena came to a decision, ‘It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ll bring him to see you.’

  The man himself was at the receiving end of a straight negative from Koenig.

  ‘Look, Carter. If we go into orbit, we’ll have all the time in the world for reconnaissance. But if you go down there now and for some reason we don’t go into orbit, we’ll have lost you forever.’

  ‘But we know we’re going into orbit this time Commander. Computer confirms it.’

  ‘Computer’s out of its depth in this situation, Carter. It knows nothing about it. Can it tell us. why we get no signals?’

  ‘No, Commander, it can’t. That’s one of the reasons why we should go down.’

  ‘The answer’s no. Not until we’re safely in orbit.’

  The communications post got Carter off the hook. The announcer said, ‘Alan Carter to Medicentre please. Alan Carter to Medicentre.’

  Koenig turned on his heel and walked up the steps to the command office. Paul Morrow gave Carter a friendly shove to get him started, ‘They want you for a sedative, Alan. Cool you off a little.’

  ‘That’s all very well. Don’t you people want to get home?’

  Mathias had provided the star patient with a sketch block and it was paying off. Regina was calmer, rapidly filling page after page with bold simple drawings. Helena met Carter at the hatch and they walked together towards the bed.

  Regina stopped drawing, stared fixedly at the paper as if suddenly frozen, then turned her head. Then the pad was flung aside and she was out of bed running with flying feet, calling, ‘Alan!’

  She threw herself on him, arms around his neck, head on his shoulder, sobbing as though her heart would break.

  Alan Carter, totally bewildered tried to unlock her hands but could not, lifted her and carried her to her bed. Helena grabbed up a hypogun and gave her a sedative shot. Then it was over, she was away, limp and relaxed in instant sleep.

  Carter straightened up, ‘Will somebody tell me what that was about? I hardly know her.’

  ‘She’s living literally in another world. Sometime in her past or our future—if it is our future, it seems we evacuated Moonbase and went to live on a planet. We married, raised families. She was married to you.’

  Alan Carter had gone on his knees beside the bed and was looking at Regina’s calm, beautiful face. Deeply moved, he took one of her hands in both of his.

  Helena picked up the sketch block and held it for him to see, ‘I think Regina’s other place is Earth planet.’

  On the sketch, there was a strange geodesic house, flowers round it such as a child might draw and a large sun with fleecy stylised clouds.

  Koenig had brought down the temperature in Main Mission and was going by the book, ‘Still no response, Paul?’

  ‘None, Commander.’

  ‘What have we, Sandra?’

  ‘Beyond simple magnetism and meteorological disturbance there is no source of electronic signal, Commander. None at all.’

  ‘Victor?’

  ‘We’re building up a radio map. There have been some pretty major geological changes. The Earth’s axis has moved by between five and six degrees, so climate conditions are totally altered.’

  ‘And the people?’

  ‘Complete disaster.’

  ‘Paul, run a sweep for any signs of life.’

  Koenig settled himself in the command seat. Personnel needed to know the score. He shifted a key and every communications post on Alpha had his picture. He said, evenly, ‘Attention all sections Alpha. The Moon’s velocity has stabilised. We shall shortly be activating the first phase of Operation Exodus. This is scheduled as soon as the Moon goes into Earth orbit . . .’

  Regina Kesslann heard the transmission, stirred in her bed and sat up. The last words picked up echo, reverberated, filled her head with insane repetition. Sound was welling and pulsing all around her. Away beyond the foot of the bed she could see a mirror and an image that was unclear, but there was compulsion that she should go and look at it as though in some way it held the key to her dilemma.

  Panic and fear surged through her mind, but she was out of bed, moving with small, reluctant steps until she was in front of it, eyes enormous, staring into it. Fear escalated. It was herself and it had been there waiting before ever she came near. She spun away, flimsy nightwear in a pale nimbus over smooth brown skin. There was another mirror carrying her image. She moaned like an animal in a trap, turned again to confront a third. She screamed, holding her head and the images watch
ed her unmoved.

  Now she was running from one to another. She hit one, stretched out her arms on the glass and stared at a big close up face that was her own. Her screams echoed and reverberated as she moved in a slow dream sequence as though each action had been slowed by a camera trick. Infinitely slowly her hands closed on a heavy paper weight on Helena’s desk. Then she was striding in slow time to a mirror surface, beating at her own calm reflection.

  Broken fragments floated out streaming past her as she turned away to meet Mathias coming in at a run.

  With insane strength, she struck at him as he reached out to hold her and he fell away. She looked down at him, holding her head with both hands, sobbing in deep, painful gasps.

  He lay still and she stumbled away for the door. It was closed and she scrabbled at the panels in a claustrophobic frenzy to get out.

  She returned to Mathias. Looked with horror at his still body and forced her hands to take the commlock from his belt. Then she opened the door and ran out into the corridor, pain wracking her, moving jerkily in her floating flimsy wrap like a Maenad maddened and stung by an ivy leaf brew.

  At an intersection, she had to stop, holding her head as unendurable pain reached a crescendo. She screamed out, ‘Help me. Someone . . . please help me.’

  A security man stopped in his tracks, whipped round and ran up to her. ‘What is it?’ He was reaching out to steady her, but pain needled her again and she twisted away moaning, ‘Please, the pain . . .’

  He tried again, aiming to pin her arms to her sides and carry her, but she was too quick. The commlock flailed down into the side of his neck and he dropped to the ground.

  For a fleeting second she was herself again and knelt down beside him, overwhelmed by what she had done, flinging the commlock away in self disgust. But new surges of pain clouded her eyes and she began to moan. Hands that had meant to move on a mercy mission to try to undo what she had done, went instead to his belt and wrenched out his stun gun from its clip. Then she was away again on her insane, goaded run.

  In Main Mission, there was an expectant hush as all hands watched planet Earth on the big screen. The moment of contact was almost due. They were waiting for Computer to pass its objective judgement.

  Sandra said quietly, ‘Five seconds,’ and the counter clicked them off with a metallic click. Kano had linked for a visual print-out on the big screen and the words went across the blue planet like a seat of approval, ‘EARTH ORBIT CONFIRMED.’

  It got a spontaneous cheer. Paul Morrow and Sandra Benes were locked in a clinch. Every face was a smiling mask. Koenig had his hands on Helena’s shoulders, saw his reflection in her wide eyes. But she was looking over his shoulder and her answering smile suddenly checked. She said, ‘Regina!’

  Regina Kesslann had appeared in the doorway of Main Mission. Hair dishevelled, head weaving from side to side, eyes wild with a panic fear she could not control, a flimsily packaged nude, incongrously aiming a stun gun. Swaying on her feet, she said, ‘Someone please help me.’

  The change from euphoria took some seconds. There was no movement. She was alone in her closed ring of torment and called desperately, ‘Alan!’

  John Koenig and Helena moved together, running for the hatch. Helena stretched out her hand and said with gentleness and compassion, ‘Regina . . . please . . . give it to me.’

  Regina recoiled like an animal but what she said was two edged, asking and refusing, ‘Stay away from me . . . help me.’

  She looked wildly past them at Carter, ‘Alan. Don’t leave me again.’

  Koenig said, ‘Easy Regina. Take it easy. Give Doctor Russell the gun.’

  Regina was past hearing. She evaded them, coming forward into Main Mission, moving erratically, pain rising in waves until her eyes closed and she screamed, ‘Help me. My head. Please Alan!’

  Koenig was close enough to try for the gun but extra sensory radar alerted her and her eyes opened. She said sharply, ‘No,’ and fired once over his head with a blast that shattered a bank of tell tales on the command console.

  Helena said carefully, ‘Regina,’ trying to pack into it every soothing harmonic in her voice.

  Regina said, ‘I want my husband.’

  She flung herself forward in a headlong run to Carter, reached him and was collapsing as her arms closed round his neck. Automatically he responded, holding her gently as her voice, tender and normal said, ‘I knew you didn’t die. I knew it.’

  He opened her fingers and dropped the gun. She was still and quiet, then her back arched violently and her face creased in agony. She moaned, ‘Alan!’

  Her eyes were wide, staring. She was limp in his arms, all passion spent. He lowered her gently to the ground, white with shock, conscious that he had not been able to answer her appeal, knowing and not knowing that in some way he was involved. Helena Russell took a limp wrist to check pulse rate. There was no joy. Regina Kesslann was dead.

  Bergman spread a colour chart on Koenig’s, desk. He tapped the area showing North America. ‘The final survey comes out like this, John. North America’s a desert. Arizona has Ice Age climate. These areas are nothing but radioactive ash. The only place where life can now exist is here. An area called Santa Maria.’

  It was a lot to take in. Koenig’s mind grappled with it.

  ‘All those people . . . gone.’

  ‘Let’s hope some of them made it to Santa Maria.’

  ‘All right, Victor. Tell Carter to prepare the Phase One Eagle for launch.’

  Bergman nodded. There was nothing to say. The longed-for homecoming had gone sour. He went out and left Koenig staring at his chart.

  He was still looking at it with unseeing eyes when Helena brought in an X-ray print. He said, ‘Regina?’

  She set it up for him on a scanner and even with his limited medical knowledge he could see what was impossible to believe. ‘Two physical brains!’

  ‘I thought I was dealing with schizophrenia brought on by the experience we all had. I had no idea there was an underlying physical condition.’

  ‘Does it mean that what happened to Regina could happen again?’

  ‘It happened to Regina. Why couldn’t it happen to us?’

  The communications post blipped and Morrow called ‘Commander!’

  On the big screen a halo of light was appearing from behind the Earth’s mass. It was brightening like the sky after an eclipse. Another body was sliding out from behind the Earth’s shielding bulk.

  Koenig was in Main Mission, standing behind Sandra’s chair saying, ‘Increase magnification.’

  ‘Maximum, Commander.’

  The new feature was rising clear of the Earth. It was unbelievable. Paul Morrow said quietly, ‘It seems we’ve gotten another Moon, Commander.’

  There was no area of doubt. They had it clear and bold in sharp focus. A repeater on the communications console began to relay a weak single pulse signal.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Planet Earth had two Moons. They were both there, sharing the same sky. Personnel in Main Mission tried to adapt to it. At every desk there was a feeling of grim foreboding. They could go on, go through the motions, but the hopes they had cherished of the freak twist that had brought them home were so much Dead Sea fruit.

  The weak signal pulse was bugging Koenig. He crossed to the main console and flicked switches. A signal tone came in strength nine, identical in pattern. He looked hard at the duplicate Moon, ‘That is our own navigation signal.’

  Alan Carter said, ‘Another Moonbase!’

  Koenig nodded grimly, appalled by the implications that were crowding into his head.

  Bergman said, ‘Somehow, we’ve caught up with ourselves.’

  There was a pause. Nobody moved. The navigation signal continued to beat, needling its message into every head. Koenig stirred himself, ‘Postpone operation Exodus. First we have to find out what’s on that Moon.’

  Carter snapped into action, glad of something positive to do and called up the standby Eagle.r />
  Koenig said, ‘You and I, Alan,’ and went for his gear.

  Helena Russell, late on the brief, caught them at the boarding tube hatch, bulky anonymous figures and ran to them. ‘John!’

  He turned clumsily, visor hinged away. He was already out of reach in a human sense, a strange composite pachyderm. She stopped. It was no good. The logic of time was against them. She said simply, ‘Be careful. Please be careful.’

  Eyes made more sense, meeting, communicating a promise and a compact as far as anything was possible in the shifting quicksands they were in. He said, ‘I’ll do that. Don’t worry, we’ll be back.’

  Then he was gone, with the hatch slicing definitively at his back and she went slowly to Main Mission to watch the monitor on the operations scanner.

  Carter lifted the Eagle in a flurry of moondust, circled the base and headed out for the doppelgänger Moon.

  In a sense, it was home ground territory he knew like the back of his hand. He took them in orbit watching the familiar moonscape peel away under the cone. He made a turn and a run over the old blackened waste areas and crossed low over Moonbase Alpha, no longer surprised at anything he might see.

  Koenig looked at the complex. No light showed. It was deserted. He said shortly, ‘Take her down.’

  Carter turned, picked up navigation marks he had used on a hundred missions and brought them in to a perfect landfall, with moondust rising in a grey cloud.

  ‘We have no boarding tube, Commander.’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to walk.’

  Koenig snapped shut his visor, waited for Carter and they both entered the lock. Outside, they were in swirling dust. Koenig pointed silently and they set off with a loping, low gravity gait. The single, repetitive signal was still sounding out, relayed by their communications packs.

  They found a travel tube giving entry to the complex and forced open its hatch. Then they were moving in a darkened corridor, lit only by starlight from its direct vision ports. They passed the shell of a communications post, standing like a gaunt sentinel, all its equipment gone and reached Main Mission itself, a scene of empty desolation.