Space 1999 - The Time Fighters

by Michael Butterworth

  ‘But how did you do it?’ Carter asked Verdeschi as they started back from the Croton ship towards the Command Centre.

  Verdeschi and Maya were walking arm in arm. He and Helena walked abreast of the happy couple. They had left Sahala with two Guards until she came round from her injection.

  Verdeschi was grinning, savouring his secret. But now they could see that the grin wasn’t entirely derived from a feeling of well-being. It was slightly twisted. He was holding back something more severe than a secret, Helena realized suddenly. He was in pain.

  Alarmed, Helena stopped them all in mid-stride.

  ‘Okay,’ Verdeschi said, holding her. ‘You’ve earned the information.’ He turned the side of his head to them and pointed to a small patch of elastoplaster behind his left ear. ‘See?’

  They gathered round, peering closely.

  ‘You didn’t,’ Carter breathed in awe. ‘Well, I’ll be... You must have had it put in without anaesthetic to have it done that quick!’

  Gradually, it dawned on Maya and Helena what had happened. ‘Tony, you didn’t!’ Maya cried in horror. ‘Ugh! How could you have one of those implants put in you, “cold” like that!’

  ‘What else could I do?’ he asked, still grinning. ‘It was the only way I could block out Dorzak’s thought waves.’

  ‘But how did you know Dorzak was impersonating me?’ Maya asked him.

  ‘Ben saw Helena getting equipment from the Medical Centre and thought she looked, well, a bit controlled. I wasn’t taking any chances... ouch, my head!’

  He clasped his hands to his head and grimaced in sudden pain.

  ‘And back to the Medical Centre is where you’re going right now,’ Helena informed him severely. ‘Ben had no right to operate on you like that. Just wait till I see him.’ Followed by an amused Maya and Carter, she marched him off down the corridor.

  They had scarcely reached the Medical Centre, though, when they met a group of Alphans who were gesticulating and arguing wildly. They appeared to be having a work dispute of some kind, Helena gathered.

  She stopped suddenly, noticing that the Alphans who seemed to be at the centre of the commotion were Sandor, the big, ginger-haired welder and his acolytes, whose rebellious activities she had been keeping a distant but firm eye on.

  What was more, the rebelliousness seemed endemic. It seemed to be erupting in several places at once.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tall, poplar-like trees rose in neat patterns from chequered fields of corn-like plants and expanses of green park. Fluffy, white clouds drifted imperceptibly in the ice-blue sky. From somewhere beat a warm, yellow sun, shining on the immaculate countryside and the Dadaist designs of a futuristic city. The air was clear and fresh. The day was spring-like, but there was an odd stillness... a strange silence; a deadness about the place that Koenig did not like.

  There was nothing much to like about this place anyway, he thought, as he and Blake Maine, his Medical Pilot, gazed out in silent awe from the landing platform of Eagle Five. Not that they could blame the planet itself for that. It was the planet’s big parent, blazing down from Space, that was to blame – for it and its entire nursery of children, and there were about fifteen of them, were on a collision course with Alpha. Or, more accurately speaking, ever since the Space Warp had ejected Alpha, Alpha had been put on a collision course with it.

  He had first noticed this was so when he and Maine had set out on their exploratory journey to map Alpha’s new neighbour stars. Launching themselves along the lunar flight path, in the same direction as their runaway Moon, he had soon realized that one of the stars was speeding almost directly at them. It didn’t take long to work out that although the star itself would miss the Moon comfortably, one of its outermost planets – a small body about the same size as Pluto in Earth’s solar system – would not. If the Moon were lucky it would miss colliding with it by a few hundred miles; but the odds were that a collision would take place.

  He had immediately warned Alpha and aborted the mission. He and Maine had commenced their return to Base when they had picked up a series of frantic distress signals, broadcast from somewhere in the star’s planetary system. Torn between returning to Alpha where their presence was now desperately needed, and reinstating their imperilled mission to the star, they had chosen to do the latter. There was a slight hope that whoever it was in danger might return their help and somehow avert the disaster that awaited the Moon.

  Keeping in close radio and television contact with the Moon Base, they had recommenced their journey.

  They had located the planet responsible for sending out the distress call, and landed on it. But now they had arrived, the distress call had mysteriously stopped.

  More puzzling still, there were no signs of life. The ship’s Life Form Sensors had picked up a momentary, weak signal in the process of descent; then, once more, nothing. Yet all around them were signs that life had existed, and not long ago.

  They stared tensely at the neat landscape and the strange city nestled between two rolling hills. Everywhere was quiet. There was not even a bird song, or a breath of air to rustle the nearby poplars.

  In front of them stood a small rectangular object, no more than their own height and not much wider. Raised on a circular plinth of polished black material it was made of a bluish, transparent glass that looked inert but seemed, oddly, to be alive. Then, still scanning the eerie scene, they noticed a macabre clue to the silence.

  Lying in untidy piles not far from it were the bodies of humanoid creatures.

  They were garbed in gaudy, one-piece tunics, tessellated with black and blue patterns resembling bolts of lightning. They seemed to have died in agony, for their bodies were bent and contorted and their faces bore fearful grimaces which told of severe pain.

  Koenig hesitated, debating whether to turn away and not get involved, for the planet was evidently devoid of life. Whoever, or whatever had broadcast the SOS had already died.

  ‘No life signs,’ Maine whispered, shocked by the possible, varying ways in which the alien race could have died.

  ‘We’ll take a closer look,’ Koenig decided. He stepped down to the soft grass and trod cautiously towards the nearest body.

  Maine followed with his portable medical sensors. Without touching the body, he examined it. ‘No wounds or injuries – internal or external...’ He reported, more mystified than ever. ‘Body perfectly preserved...’ He squinted at the dials on his equipment. ‘Time of death, indeterminate.’

  ‘Cause?’ Koenig asked, glancing warily around them at the silent death world.

  ‘That’s a good question,’ Maine replied grimly. ‘Every one’s dead... only life-form anywhere is the vegetation...’ He turned to face the TV camera that was pointing at them from inside the Eagle hatchway, aware that an equally mystified and edgy Moon Base Alpha was both hearing and watching them. ‘Tough to diagnose, Ben...’ he told his superior, Dr Vincent. ‘Could’ve been a sonic beam, a high potency ray – something that would have killed instantly...’

  Vincent listened to the words that were being transmitted millions of miles to him through Space. He watched the images of Koenig and Maine, and the sprawled bodies lying in the peaceful scenery – a scenery which, bar its regulated tidiness, he could have found in many places in his native England, on Earth.

  ‘Can you give me a close-up of one of the victims?’ he asked.

  At his request, the slight, bouncy figure of the Medical Pilot walked towards the camera – towards the rapt watchers in the Command Centre. His figure disappeared off-screen. The Big Screen grew hazy and the blurred images jumped about. Then, as they watched, the pallid outlines of one of the corpses sprang into startling focus.

  Its ears were slightly more pointed than Human ears; its body was more massive and taller than average. But, essentially, its anthropology seemed and looked identical, and this fact made its death all the more horrific.

  The doctor studied it with a detached, impersonal gaze, and
shook his head. ‘I’d like a look at its eyes.’

  Koenig’s hand rolled open one of its eyes, while Maine zoomed in on it with the camera. A mass of bloodied, radiating fibres in the iris of the alien’s eye came into view. The eye’s pupil was wildly dilated. The white surrounding of the sclerotic was shot through with the vivid crimson stains of ruptured blood vessels.

  Vincent flinched. ‘Whatever it was hit the central nervous system and must have caused tremendous pressure to explode those blood vessels...’ He turned to Bill Fraser, who was standing next to him. He shrugged. ‘A form of a nerve gas? Some lethal pathogen that invaded their bodies... or bacteria released in the atmosphere?’ he turned anxiously back to the screen. ‘Blake?’

  ‘Yes?’ Maine replied from off-screen.

  ‘Take a blood specimen... bring back samples of the soil... vegetation. And, Commander, more photographs of the bodies, please.’

  Koenig nodded. ‘There’s no life here... no help we can get either. We’re on our way back.’

  The gruesome, staring picture of the eye blurred and a new long-shot of Koenig walking resolutely towards them appeared. The weird, translucent blue oblong on the black dais was positioned to his left in the background, and it drew their eyes towards it. As they watched, it began to glow with a fuzzy, ominous aura of blue light.

  ‘John, behind you!’ Vincent called out shrilly.

  Koenig turned and froze at the sight. He ran quickly off-screen, laser drawn, to the safety of the Eagle hatchway.

  The blue rectangle pulsed brilliantly and soon formed a fierce globe of light several times the size of the original chamber. Now, in the centre, they could see the dark foetus-like silhouette of a figure forming. It became more solid, and finally, jerkily, it began to walk through the restraining walls of the rectangle which were still barely discernible in the blazing mass. As it moved forward and on to the black dais, the blue aura died away and they saw the figure clearly for the first time. Like the dead bodies that were strewn round about, it was tall and dressed in the same black and blue garments. But far from being pained or grief-marked, its face was radiant with joy and happiness. Momentarily it stood still, drinking in the air. Then, buoyantly, leisurely, it began taking in its surroundings.

  At sight of the ship, and the still, calm scenery, it frowned. It had not yet seen the bodies of its companions and it set out hesitantly towards the camera, towards where it must have spied Koenig and Maine. It had taken only a few more steps when sudden alarm crossed its serene features. A shudder that seemed to come from within tore up its body. Its face creased with pain and its hands clasped at its breast.

  Before the Alphans’ startled, appalled gaze, it went into a series of upright convulsions, then fell to the turf by the side of the corpses. As it died, its wretched eyes must have seen its dead friends. Its body, too, was now sculpted into the same agonized rigor mortis.

  Koenig ran abruptly into view again. He stooped over the body and seemed about to touch it.

  Vincent jumped to his feet and let out a yell: ‘No! Don’t go near him! Don’t touch him! He could be contagious! Get out – get off that planet!’

  Maine stabbed and pressed at the Eagle’s controls and the ship’s eight great ascent rockets exploded into life. Quivering with power it rose into the motionless air, and veered away, over the city.

  As they rose, Koenig operated the cameras and brought magnified pictures of the planet’s parkland and buildings on to the Pilot Section Screen. In quick succession they saw thoroughfares, fields and gardens choked and littered with the forbidding, greyish shapes of the corpses. They were strewn about like motionless dead flies, more and more of them as the Eagle flew on... and away.

  ‘That Life Form signal I picked up must have been one of those poor creatures copping it,’ Maine shuddered.

  ‘Everybody on the planet’s dead...’ Koenig announced over the communications system to the Moon Base. ‘If it was a nerve-killing pathogen, our systems must have a built-in immunity to it. But whatever has happened here, we can’t get involved. We are heading back.’ He was about to turn off the cameras that were filming the desecration when his eye was caught by the Life Form Sensors. They were flashing madly.

  ‘Hold it! Sensors pick up humanoid-type Life Forms...’ He studied the sensors, and then the ship’s position.

  The Eagle had left the planet’s gravitational field and the gigantic, curving surface of its moon was now appearing luminously beneath them.

  ‘Life Forms appear to be on the planet’s moon,’ he told them. ‘We’ll go down low... make a pass over it... see what more we can pick up.’

  ‘Not too low, John,’ Vincent’s voice sounded urgently over the console monitor. ‘They could be carriers... the ones who sent out the call to be saved.’

  ‘That had occurred to me, too,’ Koenig replied. ‘We’ll be careful.’ He turned to Maine. ‘Locate the Life Form source, then make two passes below cloud level.’

  Maine nodded. Koenig spoke again into the monitor. ‘We may get their help after all – if they’re friendly.’ He paused and changed the subject. ‘Status on Emergency Evacuation Procedure?’

  Alan Carter’s troubled voice came over the monitor. ‘Some trouble, John... among the men, but Verdeschi and Maya have been sorting it out, and preparing all personnel for evacuation. All operating Eagle Ships are ready for launch. Engineers working flat out to repair craft damaged by Maya...’

  Koenig grunted, too preoccupied to request further information about the unrest that seemed to be spreading among his workforce.

  Eagle One was starting to buck violently. The warning lights on the instrument panels were flashing on and off.

  ‘Malfunction... main drive!’ Maine gasped, his eyes staring wildly at the Section Screen as he wrestled with the controls.

  The thick belt of clouds had been penetrated, and a vast and rolling panorama of forests and grasslands presented itself below them. There was none of the neatness and order they had seen on the dead Mother Planet. This satellite looked alive, and wild.

  ‘Go to auxiliary...’ Koenig ordered sharply, sensing instinctively that they were in some kind of trap.

  Maine slammed more engines into operation, but they did not fire. ‘Malfunction... secondary drive!’ he cried in terror.

  ‘Emergency booster drive?’

  Maine hit more controls in a mad panic. ‘NOT FUNCTIONING!’ he screamed. ‘WE’RE HEADING STRAIGHT DOWN... AND FAST!’

  The ship heaved and rolled. They were swung about violently in their seats. It began to nose-dive.

  ‘Eagle One to Moon Base Alpha...’ Koenig managed to gasp. ‘We are out of control...’

  He stared in horror at the tiny monitor screen; horror not only at the plight of his own fate, but that of the Moon Base. Figures of Alphans were swarming over the consoles, attacking the Command Centre Personnel.

  The screen went blank, then Alan Carter’s face appeared. ‘Sandor...’ he choked. ‘...mutiny... Eagle Two on way to help you...’ His bloodied face abruptly vanished into blackness.

  The ship screamed down.

  Koenig made one last feeble attempt to alter it. Then blacked out.

  Sandor Knox chuckled and nodded his great ginger head knowingly at the three blazing stars on the Big Screen.

  ‘The centre one – the one with the red ring round it.’ He stabbed a short, pudgy finger at the blazing points of light. ‘That’s the one our intrepid Commander’s off exploring.’

  Cernik, an apprentice welder, and Stevens, an electrical technician, both mates of Knox, stared in awe at the star. Their faces had the bright, glowing look of happiness and goodness that certain religious people often have – a look of drug addiction, of a dangerous euphoric condition.

  Eva, an attractive brunette library assistant who was currently Knox’s girlfriend, looked on with a more objective attitude of mind. But she too was frightened of their large, self-styled messiah-prophet.

  Knox was broad rather than tall
and he cut an imposing, fearful figure, dressed in his grease-and-dirt-stained outsize work overalls.

  They did not dare to question him.

  ‘We have the right to know what’s happening – and now we’ve got it!’ he shouted, waving an expansive arm around the Command Centre.

  The doors had been locked at his behest by Eva so that the guards couldn’t get in to them. On the floor by the abandoned consoles lay the unconscious bodies of the computer operators and other command personnel. Oblivious to their condition he marched over to the Command Chair and sat himself in it.

  ‘We’re approaching a habitable planet, I’m sure of it. Koenig believes he can trick us into thinking it isn’t so that he and his nobs can have it all to themselves.’ He turned to face his followers with a triumphant leer. His eyes were frightened beads of redness, darting about from person to person in the unfortunate trio. They didn’t only impose; they also sought to have confirmation.

  Eva smiled reassuringly. She stepped forward and linked her arm in his and pressed her head affectionately against his chest. She said gently, ‘You’ve predicted it, Sandor.’

  He nodded at them reaffirmingly. ‘Yes,’ he breathed heavily, nodding. ‘Yes...’ He frowned. ‘But now we’ll need another prediction, though, to make sure. Prepare!’

  Eva released herself from him and joined Cernik and Stevens, who were already working their way round the Centre turning off the monitors and computers – they turned off everything except for the Big Screen. The normally bright lights were soon dimmed.

  ‘Concentrate now...’ Sandor told them slowly as they returned to their seats. He gazed into the brilliant circle of light on the screen. He folded his hands more comfortably in front of him and nodded off into a kind of trance. ‘Concentrate...’ his deep, sonorous voice echoed in their minds as they, too, gradually became entranced.

  ‘To-tal con-cen-tray-shunnn...’

  ‘He’s insane! He’s completely out of his tiny crust!’ Verdeschi stormed angrily outside the Command Centre doors. He strode irately up and down in the small space in front of the jam of security guards, debating which course of action to take.