by Roland Starr
“I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve checked all departments, Commander,” Vonner said thinly.
“Do you mean to tell me that someone quit your ship without permission?”
“It looks that way at the moment,” Vonner retorted.
The screen died and Vonner issued orders in a crisp voice. Within two minutes a report came through that a lifeboat had separated from Number Two Airlock on the port side, and almost immediately Adah Morley reported that Ed Bardo was missing from the sick bay.
Vonner sat tensely in his seat for a moment, his mind almost numb. Ed Bardo! He took a quick breath and jerked himself out of the spell seeming to hold him and issued a search order, then sat back to await results. In a few moments the reports started coming in. Five minutes later he knew the worst. Ed Bardo was not aboard the Orion.
“Mr. Hanton, start a search for the lifeboat,” Vonner ordered, and the scanners were switched on.
In a matter of seconds the lifeboat was spotted.
“Get a tractor beam on that craft,” Vonner ordered.
“Captain, there’s a Zukon ship closing in on the lifeboat,” same a swift report.
Vonner turned to another scanner, and saw the cigar shaped Zukon craft. A beam of light darted from the bigger ship, and the lifeboat exploded into a million fragments.
A hard sigh escaped Vonner, and he was tempted to blast the Zukon ship, but as he considered it the craft faded from the screen, and Vonner knew it had moved into Lapse speed.
“If Bardo was in that lifeboat then he’s dead.” Philo Curran appeared at Vonner’s elbow. “He’s nowhere on the ship, Captain!”
“Thanks, Philo!” Vonner drew a bitter breath. Ed Bardo had been a friend as well as a shipmate. Until the bout of space sickness had struck, Bardo had been the finest Executive Officer in the whole of Star Fleet.
“Captain!” Howie Farrell’s voice sounded excited. “There’s a call coming through on one of the Warp frequencies.”
“Put it on Audio,” Vonner commanded.
The next moment a harsh voice came from the speaker.
“Captain Vonner, this is Captain Tryxx. I have one of your men prisoner aboard my ship. Already I have information of your plans here. I must warn you that you will not be permitted to colonise Obal. The Zukons have been attempting to overpower the Pravan system for years, and you will not be permitted to enter into the conflict.”
“I have already decided that I cannot consider colonisation of Omina,” Vonner replied. “My orders were to check out the planet, and if it is habited then I have to abort the mission and return home.”
“We shall be waiting for you to leave orbit,” Tryxx retorted.
“You cannot harm my ship.” Vonner tightened his lips for a moment. “I will depart in peace if you will return my crew member unharmed.”
“And if I don’t?” A mocking laugh followed the sibilant words.
“I might consider it my duty to join the Pravans in their fight against you.”
“That might prove to be a most unwise decision, Captain!”
“On Earth we fight against oppression and aggression,” Vonner went on.
“Then come out of orbit and fight!” The line went dead and a faint hum indicated that contact had been broken off.
Vonner sat back in his seat. He looked at Curran, who seemed uneasy.
“How did Bardo get away in a lifeboat, Philo? What’s happened to security aboard this ship?”
“Bardo was handed over to the sick bay,” Curran retorted. “I guess I ought to have detailed a man to stand by just in case, but they have a security ward in sick bay, Captain.”
Den Thol appeared on the scanner screen once more, and Vonner motioned for Farrell to open up the communications line.
“I listened in to your conversation with the Zukon captain,” Thol said. “We’d welcome the support of your ship in our fight, Captain. But I must warn you not to leave orbit. The Zukons do have a weapon that can destroy you despite your deflector shields, but they cannot bring it into orbit because of our defensive weapons. They will be waiting for you to go into deep space, Captain Vonner.”
“I understand, Commander. But when I do leave orbit I shall travel as fast as Lapse six, and the Zukons wouldn’t be able to catch or follow me. Perhaps I’d better come down to Omina and have a conference with you. I’m concerned about retrieving my missing crew member.”
“I’m afraid that you will not be able to set him free,” came the grim reply. “He is lost to you now, Captain. But I’ll beam you down because I need to talk to you. I have received a reply to the message I sent to Prava concerning your arrival. My people are most eager to meet you.”
“Fine! I’ll give a few orders here for the safety of my ship, then I’m at your service. I’ll bring a couple of men with me.”
“By all means, Captain. When you are ready to depart from your ship just stand in a huddle exactly where you are now and you’ll be brought down.”
The screen went dead and Vonner looked at Curran.
“I think you’d better go along with me, Philo, and we’ll take Quill with us.”
“Anything you say, Captain.” Curran’s dark eyes gleamed. “It will be a treat to get off the ship for a spell.”
Vonner summoned Quillon Reid to the bridge, and gave orders to an attentive Hanton. Satisfied that the ship was in safe hands, Vonner prepared to depart.
“Relay to me on the ground any message that may come through from the Zukons,” he commanded, and he and Curran and Reid stood side by side. Farrell transmitted a message to ground that they were ready to be transported, and the next moment Vonner found the scene about him fading. Blackness filled his eyes and he knew no more until he opened his eyes and found himself in the company of Curran and Quillon in the Transporter room down on the planet.
Den Thol was waiting for them, and the Pravan commander came forward instantly, holding out a hand.
“Congratulations on your victories in the action up there, Captain,” the Pravan said eagerly.
“I would have preferred to talk with the Zukons instead of fighting them,” Vonner replied.
“You cannot reason with them. They are practically reptilian. They have totally alien attitudes to everything. It is not possible to reason out why they are intent upon oppressing us. They are cold-blooded, and their only thought is to wipe out the Odan System and the billions of people who live on the planets.”
“How long has this war been going on amongst the peoples of this galaxy?” Vonner demanded as they left the Transporter room and were escorted along the corridor.
“Too many years for us to remember,” came the grim reply. “We have perfected many techniques for our defence. We are that little bit more advanced than the Zukons, and therefore can hold our own against them. But they will never forget the long list of defeats they have suffered, and they will go on fighting us until the end of the galaxy.”
“Are you totally committed to defence then?” Vonner was puzzled by the Pravan attitude. “Why don’t you hit the Zukons where it will hurt them most?”
“The planet of Zukon?” Den Thol shook his head sadly. “It is not a solid planet, Captain. The Zukons live in great cities beneath the seas. We have sent expeditions there, but none of them ever returned. We had no success in our aggressive war, so we reverted to defence, and have managed to hold the Zukons off the Odan System. But the problem now growing is that we are slowly getting weaker. This war of attrition is sapping the very vitality from our minds. The Zukons know this and are prepared to wait until we have been brought to our knees. Then they will close in on us and we shall be obliterated.”
“What do you expect me and my star ship to do?” Vonner demanded, and saw a faint smile touch the Pravan’s lips.
“So you can tell that my people are going to ask for your aid!”
Vonner nodded. “It’s fairly obvious, but I must warn you that I am bound by strict rules of conduct which I cannot break. I have no rights to i
nterfere in any conflict taking place outside of our own galaxy and I can fight only if attacked.”
“You have been attacked, and one of your crew has been taken prisoner.” There was hope in the Pravan’s tones. “But it is not for me to try persuasion. I am a soldier and I am doing my duty here. While we fight and hold the Zukons at this point the rest of the Odan System is safe. Perhaps you would take advantage of the invitation that has been extended to you and visit Prava.”
“I should like to very much. Is it a long trip?”
“Only a matter of moments by Transporter.” Den Thol smiled. “I have been instructed to travel with you. If you meet our leaders they will give you a much clearer picture of what has been happening here and what we hope to do.”
“With my help?” Vonner demanded.
“There is little we can do without your help,” came the ominous reply…
Vonner decided to leave Curran behind on Omina and take Reid with him to Prava. Den Thol arranged for messages to be relayed to them across the millions of miles of dark space that lay between Omina and Prava. When preparations had been made they returned to the Transporter room and went through the process of transmission.
When Vonner came out of the blackness he found himself in a room identical to the one on Omina, and for a moment he figured the process hadn’t worked. But Den
Thol smiled at the questioning expression in Vonner’s eyes and nodded.
“We have arrived on Prava,” he said. “If you’ll come this way we’ll pass through the check room and go on to the presidential palace. I forwarded data on you before we left, and your language is now understood by my people. They will converse with you in your own tongue.”
“I’d like to learn your language on that machine you picked up English from,” Vonner said.
“It will be arranged.” Den Thol was pleased.
They went into the check room, where a reception committee was waiting, and Vonner and Reid were greeted by a dozen officials. But the minimum of time was wasted, and they travelled by auto-walk to an elevator. The officials surrounded them as if afraid an attempt would be made upon their lives, and Vonner frowned.
When they left the elevator they passed into an enclosed corridor with transparent walls made of a type of glass or plastic, Vonner couldn’t tell which. The corridor sloped downwards and they approached a wide doorway. Passing through the doorway, Vonner saw they were entering a great dome, completely plastic, and he was shocked to see a solid bank of blue flames on the outside, completely surrounding the dome, leaping and twisting in great gushes, sweeping in massive loops, ceaselessly attempting to link high overhead at the very apex of the dome.
“Prava is on fire?” Vonner demanded, looking into Den Thol’s unperturbed face. “Are the Zukons attacking the city?”
“No!” The Pravan shook his head slowly. “Prava is a blue star. There is a surface temperature outside the dome of around 20,000 degrees Centigrade.”
“But with a planet like Omina, why do your people live like this?” Vonner was nonplussed as he gazed around.
“We live here like this for safety reasons. The Zukons cannot get through this barrier at us. Prava is the centre of five planets in the System. The other four are outposts from which we fight the Zukons. While we hold those outposts we cannot be harmed here. Can you imagine the kind of preparations the Zukons would have to make to come through this heat barrier?”
“The dome must be a perfect insulator!” Vonner marvelled.
“This planet is nothing more than a ball of gas!” Quillon Reid cut in with an excited tremor in his tones. “How have you anchored a city here, Den Thol? Centrifugal force?”
The Omina commander nodded. “Aided by the pressure of the burning gas and a servo-controlled balance among gravity.”
“And if something went wrong?” Vonner demanded, frowning. “What if the Zukons broke through your perimeter and attacked Prava with missiles?”
“We’d all be fried to a crisp in a split second,” Den Thol retorted.
“That’s what I call living under pressure,” Quillon Reid commented.
They were conducted via a series of auto-walks out of the dome and into a larger one. Vonner was amazed as they went on. The Pravan community lived in a series of domes amidst the ever leaping flames; great spheres of life centred in certain death. As far as the eye could see there were auto-walks at innumerable levels, some slow, some fast; wide ones and narrow ones, some carrying freight and others packed with Pravans. There were closely packed buildings and many lights of all colours, a seething hive of motion and activity.
They travelled fast, and seemed to be on a special auto-walk. The blue fire surrounding them soon was no longer visible, and Vonner realised that they were deep within the city. Finally they alighted from the walk and entered a massive building, and the officials departed into various attendant rooms, leaving Den Thol alone with Vonner and Reid.
“This way please,” the Pravan said. “We are expected by President Treb!”
They went through a pale green door and entered a small room with red walls that shaded upwards into a vaulted blue ceiling. At a desk that had a glass or plastic top sat an old man who arose immediately and came around the desk with outstretched hand.
“Welcome to Prava, Captain Vonner,” he greeted. “I am sorry to have bad news for you upon the instant of your arrival. But a message from Obal has preceded you. I have just been informed that your ship Orion has blasted out of orbit!”
CHAPTER IV
Vonner was shocked by the news, and although he gripped the President’s hand he found his mind flitting swiftly to his command.
“I’m afraid I have no further details at this moment, Captain, but the emergency communications line is open to the planet and we shall learn of further news the moment it arrives.” President Treb’s shrewd brown eyes held a worried expression.
“My crew wouldn’t leave orbit without my firm order,” Vonner said. “Something must be drastically wrong somewhere. Do the Zukons have the ability to lift my ship out of orbit?”
“We have never encountered that particular problem,” Den Thol said slowly. “If the Zukons have perfected that process then we shall suffer for it.”
“Can nothing be done to arrest my ship?” Vonner demanded. “It must be stopped before the Zukons lay their hands upon it.”
“Please sit down, Captain, and rest assured that everything possible is being done to save your ship and its crew.” President Treb was concerned, and his emotion showed in his face. “I have given top priority orders concerning the ship, and everything possible is being done to arrest it and prevent it from falling into enemy hands. I asked you to visit me here because I felt that you would help us break the deadlock that has existed between us and the Zukons for many years. Your ship was vital in the plot I had evolved.”
“Is there anything I can do to help in the recovery of my ship?” Vonner demanded, taking a seat. “May I return to Omina immediately?”
“It might be better if you remained here, Captain,” the President said. “There is nothing you can do personally, and I’m hoping that my men will prove capable of preventing a disaster. In the meantime perhaps we can discuss what I have in mind.”
“Certainly, sir!” Vonner tried to drag his mind from Orion. He dared not think of the consequences if anything should befall the ship. Apart from any immediate emergency its loss would create, there would be no way of returning to Earth later. He dared not think of the loss of the crew. Adah was aboard, and he fought down his emotions as he tried to concentrate upon the president’s words.
“I have a proposition to make to you, Captain,” President Treb said. “I understand that Thol has given you some details of the situation confronting us. I also have been informed of your reasons for being in our System. You had hoped to colonise Obal, or Omina, as you prefer to call it.”
“That is correct.” Vonner nodded. “My orders were to explore this System and try to locate any
planet suitable for colonisation. I would add that in the event of the planet being inhabited I was to abort the mission.”
“You must not attempt to move in against the will of any inhabitants?” There was a gleam in the president’s eyes.
“No attempt to colonise would be made,” Vonner stressed.
“Then your race is strictly non-aggressive!” The president nodded. “That is good! I think we may come to some arrangement, Captain. You have the power to act for your government?”
“I do!” Vonner agreed.
“You would not have been able to settle on Omina had we not been in occupation,” President Treb said. “The Zukons would have attacked you. They would not have left you in peace. To take Omina you would have to fight the Zukons. Omina is ours by right! But we do not need it as a habitat. If you will help us defeat the Zukons it will be arranged that your people will be permitted to colonise Omina.”
Vonner’s eyes brightened at the words. They meant the success of his mission! But he tightened his lips for a moment, then shook his head.
“You forget that I have nothing with which to fight,” he said thinly. “Orion has left Omina’s orbit. Quite apart from that, how could one star ship fight the entire Zukon force?”
“We have long since taught the Zukon’s respect for our technology,” Treb said. “They must know that they cannot hope to overpower us and win this stupid war! They do not realise that we are weakening. They attack us because we are here, and they have no deeper thought than that. If you contacted the Zukons, Captain, and convinced them that we are invulnerable, they might give up their attempts. Then we could all settle down in peace.”
“Are they people who can be reasoned with?” Vonner demanded.
“We have never been able to deal with them in any way except violence. I am hoping that perhaps you know of ways and means that are beyond our knowledge. I know from the information we have gleaned from an examination of your mind that your world has engaged in war from early history through many centuries. Earth people have a capacity for violence and aggression. That much is plain to us. But we also know that you have come to us in peace, and will not break that peace for any reason unless you are first attacked.” Treb shook his head slowly. “It seems to me that you have the traits of the Pravans and the Zukons in your make-up, inseparable, with the good and the bad counterbalanced. We are essentially a peace loving people, and it is difficult for us to use violence in defence. We have not the essential aggression necessary in our make-up to enable us to take the initiative against the Zukons, and this is why we have been at stalemate for years. But we are weakening, and unless the deadlock is broken then we must lose in the end.”