Buck Rogers- A Life in the Future

by Martin Caidin

  Speedboat went down the gravity chute toward Earth at a rapid pace, then swung into an elliptical approach path with forward thrusters blazing to minimize their time en route. When they entered Earth's atmosphere, Buck watched Regina Black-well handle the super-fast cruiser as if it were her own personal skycar.

  "Something new has been added," he said to her as she maneuvered toward a huge waterfall off the top of a new rectangular building at the edge of Niagara.

  "Looks are deceiving," she answered with a smile. Speedboat moved slowly into the waterfall. The world disappeared behind a hissing, foaming cascade of water. They emerged from the vertical torrent in an enormous spaceport. Regina took Speedboat neatly into a docking bay.

  "The council is waiting for you, Wilma and Dawn. We'll be checking our ship out and refitting. You're going to be riding with us to Venus."

  Buck looked at Blackwell sharply. "As great as this ship is, you're not taking her down into that hellish pit of a planet, I hope."

  "Not on your life," she laughed. "Just wait until you see the bucket we've got for you."

  He embraced Regina briefly and warmly. Soon he and the two women were in a tube car on their way to the council chambers.

  They were surprised to see Killer Kane with the president and his staff. Buck didn't ask questions; he'd hear soon enough what was going on.

  Their meeting centered around a huge oval table heaped with fruits and nuts and flavorful wine. It was obvious that Vice President Hasafi was leaning toward traditional Saudi hospitality with the fruits and nuts, with a nod to her English background for the wine. After the obligatory congratulations for the performance at Mars, the council got down to serious business.

  "There has been a long-standing tacit agreement between this council and the Celestial Mogol," Hasafi began, "that Mars

  Buck Rogers

  would be developed by the Mongols in concert with the Tiger Men and the Golden People, while Venus, which they consider to be virtually impossible to terraform for human habitation, would be left to us for development. The Mongols are, to say the least, a people of dark suspicions. Basically, they are untrustworthy."

  She tapped a pen gently on the table, reviewing her notes. "Yet we've managed to avoid further nuclear confrontations on Earth. This was not accomplished through cooperation, a desire for peace, or anything save sheer survival. It is incredible to think that we had to resort to twentieth century savagery to implement the ancient MAD program. No offense. Brigadier Rogers, but the truth is inescapable."

  "Madam Vice President," Buck spoke quickly, "I take no offense or find any fault with what you say. The concept of MAD—Mutually Assured Destruction—between the United States and the Soviet Union was all that separated the world from nuclear devastation. There's no point in burning down your neighbor's home if the fire also consumes you and your family"

  "Spoken with great clarity. I appreciate that, Rogers. Yet we are riven with disturbing news about Mongol interest in Venus. It is, shall we say, almost senseless. They are pouring immense energy and material into transforming Mars. Even if they are successful, it must be ongoing in its application because of planetary characteristics with which we are all familiar. It should relieve them to know we are concentrating on Venus. Yet we have just engaged in a fierce and costly engagement in space and on Mars as if the Mongols believe we intended to throw them off the planet for our own purposes."

  She glanced at the other council members, who nodded briefly, and she continued. "Commodore Kane may shed some light on this puzzle, but he also brings confusion. It is almost certain there is a great underground river within Mars. That fact, coupled with the polar ice caps, means the Mongols have real promise in Martian development."

  "Madam, are we working in concert with the Mongols in their plans for Mars?" Buck asked.

  She appeared startled at the question. "Heaven forbid! It would be a pact with a scorpion, or perhaps the devil," she added.

  A Life in the Future

  "Then why was Takashi Inoyue involved with the Tiger Men in explorations for such an underground river?"

  "Commodore Kane can answer that question. Commodore?"

  "Rogers, that's a two-way street. The Mongols are hardly experts in underground waterways. And despite their long tenure on Mars, neither the Tiger Men nor the Golden People are any better. Inoyue is an expert. He can survive underwater operations longer than any man I know. We spent a lot of time in special operations, with the SEALS and other groups."

  "I'm sorry," Buck said, "but I still don't understand why he's helping the Mongols and others."

  "He's charting the details of below-ground water flow. Source, quantity, how long it may keep flowing, that sort of thing. These are details the Mongols desperately need to know. It can only enhance their desire to make Mars their next dominant world. No doubt they'll have problems with the Tigers and the Goldens. But right now he's a hero to them."

  "May I ask what this assistance does for us, sir? I don't mean to be impertinent. Commodore," Buck stressed, "but why should we help the enemy?"

  Kane leaned back in his seat and smiled.

  "With what Takashi is doing, we'll know ever3rthing the Mongols and their allies know about the subterranean water system. If events should ever bring us to have to fight for our benefit on Mars, we'll know as much as they do. That makes them pretty damned vulnerable."

  Buck sat quietly. He hadn't liked this whole arrangement from the beginning. Valuable data or not, it smacked to him of the same kind of appeasement he remembered all too well from the history of his own time. But Kane had spoken for them all, and he had little more than ancient history and his own opinions to offer. Best to keep his silence.

  Hasafi looked to Dawn and Wilma. "We know that you, Dawn, are telepathic, and that Wilma is an empath. Isn't there a third crew member with Wilma's receptivity?"

  "Yes, sir," Kane answered for Noriega. "Her presence was not requested here for this meeting. She is at work servicing Black-well's ship. If you want—"

  Hasafi gestured for silence. "It won't be necessary, Commodore." She turned back to Dawn and Wilma.

  Buck Rogers

  "Let's put aside the Mongol plans for Mars, at least for now," Hasafi instructed. "Both of you play critical roles in our plans. Using your special talents, did you pick up any messages, thoughts, images, or plans of the Mongols as they relate to Venus? Let me go on for a moment. We have Brigadier Rogers's reports on the energy machines he witnessed on the Plain of Cydonia, and he is convinced they are destined for Venus. The general agreement is that the Mongols will leave Venus to us. His report disturbs me greatly. Can you add anything to what he has said?"

  "It is highly disturbing," Dawn replied. "I believe Wilma Deering agrees with what I felt." Wilma nodded, and Dawn went on.

  "There were many images relating to Venus and its rotation, Madam Vice-President. Some thoughts were clouded and hazy, as if an attempt was being made to prevent the Mongols in command from, well, broadcasting mentally is as good a phrase as any. We are both in agreement that the energy drivers are destined for Venus. We do not know why. Wilma functioned as a passive receiver while I attempted to increase the images of what is planned by the Mongols for the future. We both received feelings of great intent."

  "It is my impression," Wilma stepped in, "and I must emphasize that this is strictly a feeling, that a great sham is under way."

  "And that is the impression you both received?"

  "Yes, ma'am," they said unison.

  Buck leaned forward. "May I interrupt? There's something else that I find disturbing."

  For the first time. President Grenvil Logan joined the discussion. "By all means, Brigadier."

  "This may not relate to what Dawn and Wilma have reported, or even what I saw personally at Cydonia. But something is very much out of whack, and when something is awry or it doesn't fit the scheme of things, that bothers me. There's something else I picked up on our return to Earth from Mars in Speedboat.
Commander Blackwell used a cloaking device when we approached Earth. That's pretty automatic because of possible Mongol monitoring of our space traffic. As we came into our elliptical path and then began thrusting for de-orbit, we encountered an unex-

  A Life in the Future

  pected anomaly in the gravitational fields we use for accurate approach."

  "Do you know what that anomaly was?" Logan queried.

  "Yes, sir. It took quite a while for the computers to come up with the answer, because we didn't know what to ask. The variation in the gravitation fields is being caused by the asteroid the Mongols placed in orbit some time ago. Anything eighty miles in diameter, even at an orbital height of eighty thousand miles, is going to exert its effect on both the Earth and the moon. But that effect has long been calculated, and it's known right down to the last decimal point. Recently, however, it has shifted."

  "How?" Kane shot at Buck.

  "The automatic approach was rejected by the flight computer," Buck answered. "Commander Blackwell, of course, has recorded all the details. You can study her report if you wish."

  "Just the answer, if you have it, please," Kane said sharply.

  "Mongolium—the asteroid—is increasing its distance from Earth."

  Logan turned to Kane. "There's always been some subatomic spray from the power systems aboard that thing, Kane. But has it changed in any way?"

  "Less than one percent. It's within the longtime parameters," Kane replied.

  Logan made an immediate decision. "I want that asteroid monitored constantly for all parameters—subatomic spray, velocity, any further increase in orbital path or perigee—anything."

  "Yes, sir."

  "But there's something more immediate and important to consider. I do not like one bit this sudden increase in Mongol interest in Venus. I like even less what Rogers found at Cydonia. I want Venus scanned with high-energy radar, lasers, thyronic probes. Send robot ships out there. Cover the damned planet from one end to the other. If there's even the slightest change in its patterns, I want it reported immediately. And I want every watchdog system we have to keep tabs on the movement of Mongol ships sunward. Rogers, you said they were amassing powerful energy drive systems?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "The kind that generate power over long periods?"

  Buck Rogers

  'Tes, sir. Immense power. It's either subatomic or gravitic systems linked to thermonuclear generators. It's big, Mr. President."

  "Could it affect conditions on Venus?"

  "There's enough energy there, over a period of months, to affect rotation speed."

  Logan turned to Killer Kane. "I want direct personal observation on Venus. I want men and ships sent down into that hellhole. The remote systems won't be enough to tell us what the devil is going on down there, and I don't like it. My own sixth sense tells me something is going on. Brigadier Rogers?"

  'Tes, sir."

  "You turned in a sterling performance aboard lo. You've had some background in underwater research, haven't you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Deep?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Think carefully before you answer me now. Brigadier. Would you be willing to take a ship down to the Venusian surface? Word of your exploits has spread throughout our fleets, and you can have your pick of the best we have to go with you. By God, I'd go with you myself, but—" He shrugged. "I've often wished I had become a sailor instead of being stuck in this blasted presidency."

  Buck smiled. "I can understand that, sir."

  "You'll take the assignment, then?"

  'Tes, sir."

  "Kane, will you go with him?"

  "Why not? He's a good-luck charm, that one is," Kane boomed.

  "That special battle cruiser we're building for a future Venus expedition," Logan asked. "Wlien will it be ready?"

  "Now, sir," Kane said immediately.

  "That will be your vessel, Brigadier Rogers. You'll have a crew of no more than ten. It's no pleasure yacht, but it's a bundle of trouble for anything that gets in its way. You may have the honor of naming your new vessel, Rogers."

  "You can't beat the original, Mr. President. We'll call her Nautilus."

  "Highly appropriate." Logan's palm slapped the table. "You

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  get under way in four days. You'll have to work day and night with your crew to get ready."

  "We'll be ready," Buck promised.

  Nautilus was shaped like a huge oval, a football shape with various protuberances jutting from its massive hull. In reality. Nautilus was a six-hulled vessel along its outer shells. Between each hull, cryogenic generators kept up a steady flow of super-cold gas and liquid to dissipate the terrible heat of the Venusian atmosphere. Even the portholes maintained this powerful temperature control, making Nautilus a floating icebox in what amounted to a boiling lava pit. Jutting outward at various positions were giant steel blades, a feature that Buck had insisted on. "If we encounter opposition from the Mongols or anyone else in that hellhole atmosphere, using standard weapons is going to be a dicey proposition. Explosive charges can be tricky to control because of the natural pressure of fifteen hundred pounds per square inch at the surface. I also want a ram installed in the nose. It may go all the way back to the times of fleets of ancient Greece, but ramming an enemy vessel at high speed in such an atmosphere could put it out of business faster than anything else."

  He gathered his crew. He chose Commander Regina Black-well from Speedboat, and Ardala Valmar from lo. No one could handle a big submersible with more skill than Valmar, and no one knew Mongol spacecraft better than Blackwell.

  Wilma Deering and Dawn Noriega were essential to the mission. No one could foretell what they might pick up from Mongols or other people on Venus. Black Barney and Killer Kane were a formidable team in any conflict. Doug Millford had proved his worth with Buck on the Plain of Cydonia. Big Mike Seidman could fill in at almost any position and, if necessary, could leave Nautilus in an armored cryogenic suit to attend to any repairs of the submarine. Doc Huer was the last of the crew, as necessary for his medical skills as for his experience and wisdom.

  "Our liftoff from Earth will follow standard operation," Buck told his crew in a final briefing. "I want Regina on the con-

  Buck Rogers

  trols throughout flight until we enter the Venusian atmosphere, then Ardala takes the helm. Kane and Barney are to oversee all operations. Wilma and Dawn, you'll monitor systems, and several times each duty period you'll retire to one of the external viewports to see what you may be able to pick up telepathically. Seidman is responsible for the ship and its propulsion system. Doc, in addition to being our sawbones, I want you to handle communications and data recording of all systems. Millford will be my alter ego for whatever comes up, and he's ready to take over any armament system from anybody else as needed.

  "There's an old expression that best fits this moment. Let's shove off."

  They lifted off in standard antigrav fashion, boosted by the microwave beams. For the outbound—sunward—portion of the flight, they had attached a nuclear booster for added speed, to be jettisoned when it was no longer needed. During departure from Earth, Admiral Frank Bemis launched fourteen more spacecraft to mask their flight. With seven ships firing nuclear boosters at full power, spraying enormous clouds of subatomic particles and neutron fog into vacuum, it was impossible to track any one ship. Amidst the cover from the other ships. Nautilus was launched sunward. Regina Blackwell took them perilously close to the sun in a huge, looping arc. Any other ship save Nautilus, with its cryogenic-layered protection, would have heated to lethal limits. But Blackwell skimmed the edge of danger, and as they came looping around the sun, she jettisoned the nuclear booster. Halfway to Venus on the backside of the loop, she sent the booster off at a tangent into open space. Not blocked by any planet, the booster exploded in a titanic blast. The gravity warp of the blast and the flood of gamma, X-ray, and neutron radiation could hardly be missed by
the Mongols.

  "They've lost another ship to a failed propulsion system," was the conclusion in Mongol headquarters. "Good riddance."

  A Life in the Future

  "The best way to get deep into Venus's atmosphere," Regina Blackwell explained, "is to go in fast, Uke a meteor. The visible radiation will be picked up by Mongol outpost sensors."

  "You want us to be picked up?" Doc Huer asked, not really believing what he'd heard.

  "Almost, Doc, but not quite!" Regina told him. "Just before we reach the upper atmosphere, we'll encase Nautilus in an expandable envelope of magnesium. Friction with the atmosphere will turn the envelope into a raging fireball visible halfway across the solar system. When we decelerate, we'll jettison the envelope, the radiation and glare will completely cover our presence, and we'll drop into the Venusian atmosphere at a controlled speed. I advise all of you to tighten your belts and harness. This is going to be one wild ride."

  "Recommendation," said Killer Kane.

  "Please," Blackwell acknowledged.

  "Before you jettison the mag cover, activate a maximum force shield for added protection. This atmosphere isn't like space. It has areas of thick gases, and we may run into the upshot of one or more volcanic eruptions. I'd hate to collide with a few thousand tons of rock, even in this bucket. The force field will handle anything out of the ordinary until we decelerate to safe maneuvering speed."

  "Excellent suggestion, Barney. Thank you. Will you attend to the field?"

  He laughed. "My hand's already on the controls. Commander."

  Forty miles above the surface of Venus, they plunged into the clouds of sulfuric acid and carbon dioxide. At this height, the Venusian winds blew fiercely, and even within the massive armored hull of Nautilus they could feel the autopilot correcting for wind gusts. Strapped and harnessed into g-seats, they watched the temperature needles rising steadily and felt deceleration as they plunged downward. Blackwell's command came quietly but firmly. "Ten seconds to envelope expansion." The seconds seemed to tick away slowly, but right on time there was a dull boom as cryogenic gases blew an outer magnesium hull about the spacecraft. Almost immediately fire raged around the decelerating vessel.