Space 1999 - The Edge of the Infinite

by Michael Butterworth

  “You mean their arrival is the cause of this situation?”

  “If the computer is correct, yes. That’s exactly what I mean.” She spoke slowly, as though she herself had only just realized the fact. She looked up and the two women stared at each other in fear.

  The interior of Eagle One was warm and humid, its air-conditioning broken down like all the other electrical and metal systems on board her. Koenig, his head still bandaged, sifted through a pile of gutted communication equipment.

  As Carter had told him, the parts were all completely useless.

  “The plastics are holding up,” he said to Carter, fingering a piece of plastic and squeezing it firmly.

  Carter smiled sardonically. “We can hardly build a communicator with plastic.”

  A sudden thought struck Koenig. “Wait a minute, though.” He stood up suddenly and strode over to the weapons rack. He took out a rocket rifle and broke open the chamber. As he worked, the gun literally fell to bits in his hands; when he had finished he held up a small plastic tube.

  “Metaline fibers?” Carter guessed.

  “Yes.” Koenig forced the tube apart and triumphantly revealed a bunched coil of very thin, colored material. He tested it with his fingers, tugging at it. “Non-corroded. Plastic—but one of the best energy conductors we have.”

  Carter nodded as the Commander excitedly unravelled the fibers. “They’ll conduct energy, but now we’ve got to find energy to conduct.”

  “The solar cells,” Koenig told him. He handed him the fibers. “On that alien structure. Fix it up, will you? I’m no good at making radios.”

  A weak signal began bleeping over Maya’s console causing a sudden stir in the Command Center.

  “It’s a signal from the planet!” Maya cried out. “But very weak...”

  Helena ran over, in time to hear Koenig’s distant voice calling them.

  “John Koenig to Moon Base Alpha.”

  “John, we’re receiving you.” She spoke tremblingly, hope springing inside her.

  “How is Tony?” Maya rejoined, before he could reply. Then they realized that Koenig couldn’t reply.

  “We can transmit but not receive,” his voice told them next. “Our situation is serious. We are without ships and equipment...”

  His voice faded and they leaned forward, intently trying to listen to his every word. From the snippets of information they were gradually able to receive a terrifying picture of what had happened.

  “We know now that this planet is overwhelmingly hostile to our life forms,” Koenig’s voice continued. The signal was growing weaker. “We will strive to effect countermeasures... until we do... I expressly forbid any attempt at rescue... repeat, no ships are to come down here... should they try, their metals will disintegrate on contact with planetary atmosphere... it was this phenomenon which caused the crash of...”

  A burst of static crowded out the words. When it cleared again, the words had gone. The receiver went dead.

  They stared helplessly at one another. Maya was the first to speak, voicing what they were all thinking. “They have no time for ‘effective countermeasures’! That atmosphere will soon be impossible to breathe!”

  “I’ve got to go down to them, Maya.” Helena spoke fiercely. She had started pacing again, deep in her grief. “The problem is, how? We can’t use the Eagles..”

  They would never be able to get back if they went. The fact impressed itself deeply on Maya’s mind, but nevertheless, she found herself compelled to offer an alternative method of transport which had presented itself to her.

  “A glider...” she said aloud.

  Helena stopped, interested. “A glider?”

  “No power unit, no moving parts—it could be made from plastic,” the other continued, ignoring the shocked faces around her.

  Maya and Helena suddenly found themselves motivated by a macabre pleasure at the idea, perhaps because of their love for the two men.

  “And our space suits—we could replace the metal seals,” Helena said enthusiastically. She glanced warningly at the Psychon, her heart beating fast. “It’s strictly a one-way trip, Maya.”

  Maya nodded. “I know... and for two passengers.”

  “For two passengers.” Helena emphasized the words.

  The groves and valleys, the air and flowers which had once welcomed the Alphans so deceptively with their beauty and desirability were now lethal and untouchable. They lay all around them, still seemingly harmless, still inviting them to sample.

  Salkov waited warily outside the golf ball, nervously wondering from which quarter they were next going to be attacked. Several hours had gone by, and the hot sun was still beating down, charging the solar cells. Inside the strange building lay some of the answers to their dilemma, of that he was quite certain. But the problem was, when was it going to build up enough power to open its own door?

  As he thought these thoughts, gazing at the huge ball of whiteness, it seemed to him that it had actually grown more brilliant. At first he thought that it was his imagination, but then he realized it was pulsating—the whole structure and not just the hatch mechanism was energizing.

  He ran to the hatch and cautiously got down on his knees and pressed one of the buttons. With a low hum, the star-shaped door by his head began opening slowly inward.

  He was gripped by an overwhelming fear now and instead of entering he got to his feet and ran back to the Base Camp. Not long afterward, he returned, with Koenig and Carter taking the lead.

  They arrived at the gaping entrance. Inside, it looked pleasantly cool and light, and they climbed warily through, keeping as close to one another as they could. The air was strangely musty, irritating to their throats, causing them to cough.

  It was like being inside a large, globular tent that let in the sunlight through its own fabric. The walls were lined with plastic shapes and cables. In the center of the room was a small console. In the seat was a gaunt, sinister figure, its back to them. As they entered, it seemed to be hunched over the controls, surveying them motionlessly.

  Nervously, Koenig moved closer toward it and laid a hesitant hand on its shoulder. He withdrew it hastily when he felt hard bone protruding beneath the fabric. As he did so, the chair swivelled slowly round, throwing the figure backward, offering them its first clear view of itself.

  Repulsed, they saw that it was little more than a skeleton, its grinning, eyeless skull sockets staring out at them from behind a visor of some description. Most chilling of all was its skeleton hand which had fallen across the table, clutching at a long plastic cylinder. It seemed to be trying to thrust the tube toward them in an eerie gesture of offering.

  For a moment they stood in shocked silence, wondering at the grisly drama that must have unfolded... how long ago? Then, pulling themselves together, they tore themselves away from the sight and began investigating the rest of the dome. They noticed in speechless awe that whoever the unfortunate occupant of the dome had once been, he had known his planet’s evil characteristics well, for the equipment on the walls, like everything else in there, was fashioned of nonmetallic materials.

  “The dome must have been built as some kind of a survival shelter.” Carter broke the deadly silence.

  “Then how come that poor devil didn’t survive?” Koenig frowned. He moved back to the console and looked once more at the frozen arm holding out the tube. Distastefully, he reached down and picked it up. A cap fell off it, and inside he discovered several small, plastic discs, their surfaces scored with a myriad of tiny symbols.

  “What do you make of those?” Salkov asked, puzzled. He and Carter had been attracted over by the find.

  Koenig looked baffled. “Information storage of some kind. But...” He turned to Carter. “What use are they if they can’t be transmitted... if there’s no metal to make circuitry? There must be some other form of transmission.” His eyes scoured the console. They rested on a small, circular slot close to the skeleton’s seat. He knelt down and noticed with qu
ickening interest that it contained an identical disc to the ones he held.

  “Found it!” he told them. “The thing is, where are the controls?” There were no evident controls on the console, so he played with the slotted disc for a while, trying to figure it out. He tried pressing it in, like a button. Instantly, he was rewarded by a sharp clicking sound, followed by a low humming coming from the direction of the wall facing the skeleton.

  They noticed now that a fine sheet of a transparentes material hung across the front of the panels. It was roughly square and covered in a mesh of gossamer-fine lines. As they watched, it glowed brightly and became opaque. Humanoid features flashed up on it.

  They quickly recognized that the figure was the earlier, living version of the skeleton, for he wore the same helmet and uniform and was seated at the same console, only on this picture he was inverted as in a mirror. Death was gazing at life in a grim mockery of existence.

  “The end has come,” the person spoke to them across time. “Only I, Zoran, leader of this expedition, survive, and soon I, too, shall be dead.” His despairing face stared out at them from behind the plastic visor. “To you who came here as we did, in search of a promised land, cease your struggle. There is only one escape from this pitiless world—death.”

  Abruptly, like a curtain closing on their lives, his face faded and the screen blanked out.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  Countless thousands of stars belonging to the receding galaxy shone down at Helena and Maya atop Eagle Three as they lifted gracefully off from the Moon.

  The two women, wearing space suits, sat inside the glider cockpit. The cockpit was transparent, enabling them to observe the heavens in all their magnificence. Beneath them, inside the ship, Frazer was at the controls, carrying them shuttle-fashion through space on their suicidal journey to the planet.

  The glider was stocked with food, blankets, and two medical cases containing non-metal equipment and drugs. With their own body weights the total payload was just sufficient to keep the vessel safely airworthy in the kind of atmosphere that their instruments at the Command Center had anticipated.

  “Let’s only hope we’ve got the launch position worked out right,” Helena said as she gazed at the large, green Earth-like globe hanging in front of them. In this direction, there were few stars, partly because of the fierce ball of the planet’s sun burning to their left, partly because this was the galaxy’s edge and only a few faint glimmers of other, incredibly distant galaxies were to be detected at all.

  “I tried to assess all the relevant factors,” Maya commented from her seat next to her. “But a glider is not exactly a precision instrument.”

  “It’s a big planet, Maya. A small error could put us hundreds of miles from the Base Camp.”

  “Then we discover the joys of walking, don’t we?”

  They still felt surprisingly cool and elated. It was as though the fear inhibiting part of their minds had been turned off and only the emotional, less aware parts of their minds functioned. Yet they felt clearheaded and in complete command of their faculties. Their mission was something that they had to undertake; it was natural. Like homing birds crossing the oceans on Earth, there was no choice open to them. Fear, therefore, didn’t come into the matter; it was no longer a survival motivator.

  They left the Moon behind, and gradually the planet grew larger. Its land and water features became massive, curving away in a plateau beneath them. They could see now that banks of graying cumulus clouds were beginning to build up over their landing area, and they exchanged worried glances.

  “Approaching extremity of atmosphere.” Frazer’s voice crackled over their headpieces. “Stand by for launch.”

  “Standing by,” Maya reported.

  They began to feel the first twinges of tension, but they thrust them savagely aside in their minds, refusing them time or space to grow in.

  “Computer indicates launch ten seconds... five seconds...”

  They listened to his countdown, expecting to be jettisoned into free flight. All they hoped was that the glider was launched correctly at the right angle into the air, or it would break up and they would hurtle forever downwards, making miniature shooting stars of themselves.

  “Four... three... two... one... zero!”

  They felt a sudden uplift as disconnection took place. The Eagle dropped away below them. The comforting vibrations of its vast, mother-like body ceased, and they were suddenly gliding downward, alone, adrift, like some giant bird at the mercy of the air currents and winds.

  “You’re on your own, girls. Good luck.” Frazer’s parting words sounded in their ears. They thanked him and turned their sets off—not that they had any need to, for soon their radio parts would be corroded and then they would be totally on their own.

  Alone, at the mercy of their wits.

  And their wishes.

  Overpowering feelings of gloom and depression rose inside Koenig as Zoran’s pitiful transmission ended. But at least they had now found someone else who knew about the planet’s cruel environment, even though their friend was long dead.

  He extricated the coded disc and inserted another.

  Zoran’s image flashed up again and began speaking. From what he said and the way he said it, the transmission was an earlier one, reminiscent of their own initial mishaps.

  “Survey reports indicated that this planet is ideal,” he commenced, seated exactly as before. “Our people rejoiced in the good fortune that has guided us to this hospitable land. But as yet we have not located our mining party... A further complication is the inexplicable breakdown of our most vital equipment...” His form was distracted by something off-screen, and hurriedly he pressed a button in front of him on the console. Then the screen went blank again.

  Quickly, Koenig inserted another disc. When Zoran reappeared this time and began speaking, he looked shocked. “The natural resources of the planet have turned poisonous. Half our number have perished. Our own supplies are dwindling. We are facing disaster.”

  Another disc showed him looking haggard, beyond hope, and infinitely sad. “Yesterday, the survivors of the mining party were found. They were in deep coma, suffering from a mysterious form of brain damage. We did what we could with them, but were unable to save them. They regained consciousness shortly before death... and were lucid enough to describe some of what had happened.”

  They leaned forward intently at this, but the screen faded on them. Frustratedly, they pressed in more of the discs, searching for the one which followed. At length they found one that was not far removed and slotted it in.

  “We are being destroyed by an immortal creature of awesome power,” Zoran was saying. “A solitary being which yearns for contact with other forms of intelligent life. It did not seek to deliberately destroy our mining party. It wanted to communicate... to talk... to express the joy it felt at discovering a form of life other than itself.” Zoran’s face became grave. “But the means it chose inflicted insanity and violent death.” He was choked with sudden passion. “But we must find a way to communicate with it... we must...”-he was stuck for words-“make it understand.”

  The screen faded.

  “John!” Vincent’s excited voice sounded suddenly behind them. The doctor rushed inside to where they were standing, but he was brought up suddenly by the eerie sight of the skeleton in the strange globe. Distractedly, he said, “Tony’s come around.”

  What was intended as good news was received as bad, and he couldn’t understand the sudden grim looks on their faces. What he didn’t know was that if Zoran was right in his description of the death throes of the long-dead miners, Verdeschi’s own death was now imminent.

  “Alan, go through the entire record again. Maybe we missed something.” Then he turned to Vincent. “Let’s go... and fast.”

  Angry storm clouds began gathering beneath the solitary glider. lt careened downward into them, plunging helena and Maya into a frightening world of fire and vapor.
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  It was almost as if the planet was trying to keep them from reaching their destination, as though it were in some way alive. If it weren’t, then they had an unbelievable streak of bad luck.

  They were now able to take off their helmets and vent their feelings to one another.

  “What a bitch!” Maya called out as she grappled with the makeshift joy-stick that the Moon Base engineers had installed. The raging wind was buffeting them crazily about, sucking them up, then flinging them down. The light craft was creaking alarmingly, and both knew that it wouldn’t take much more. But they kept up their spirits.

  “I hope our men appreciate what we’re doing for them,” Helena shouted back at her above the rumbling and roaring. She sat behind Maya, holding onto the pilot’s seat. on her knees were the two medical cases. The rest of the supplies were packed into a small compartment behind her.

  Cloud vapors raced toward them, dividing on the cockpit hood and streaming past them as they flew steeply down. Flashes of lightning streaked around them. When it seemed that they could fly down no farther without hitting the ground, they broke abruptly from the cloud layer and were stunned by a gloomy vista of writhing, wind-whipped vegetation below.

  “Twenty thousand feet, I would estimate,” Maya called out. “It looks like the landing site, too.”

  They were on the point of congratulating themselves when a sudden, violent updraft of air smacked against the glider’s belly, sending it spinning upward. For a moment, they were tossed crazily about, caught by eddy after eddy. When Maya finally managed to bring it under control again, the wind had smashed through their cockpit and torn off a part of the left wing.

  “We’ve got to get out of the turbulence,” Maya shouted above the noise of the freezing, howling wind that now whipped around their bodies. “It’s our only chance.”

  “But we’ll miss the Base Camp...”

  “That’s right.” She began trying to maneuver the plane, banking it away toward some distant shafts of sunlight. But as she went, the plastic covering ripped off the glider’s “good” wing, exposing its struts.