by John Rankine
‘Three of the squabs?’
‘Right. As soon as you like. Tell the others to keep their ears open. If Mestor sends a mopping-up party, we can hold out down here. They can pass the gear down.’
With Carter and Karl steadying two uprights and a seat squab lying across the top, Koenig had a working platform. He used a vibrator to slice out a panel in the lighting strip and then moved slowly along. The duct contained short lengths of tube filled with a blue gas. Every other one, had an angled camera-type fitting beside it.
Bergman said, ‘They monitored this passage pretty thoroughly. Nobody would get along here without being seen.’
As they reached the site of the long-gone execution, he broke out a strip running to the end of the footsteps. There was a new feature. A fan-shaped fitting of bright metal filled the lighting trough. An emission from it would cover the corridor wall to wall. Using his laser and standing back, he sent a searing beam at the inlet and where it appeared at ceiling level. The whole structure glowed and finally began to deform. Finally it broke free and dropped clear.
At the same moment of time the whole lighting strip glowed into brilliant life, and Urion called urgently down the shaft: ‘Commander! There is a squadron of air cars circling the complex.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Koenig weighed up the options. The Megaronians were determined to hound them. A last stand on the surface might make them pay dearly for it, but it could only end one way. On balance, they were better to dig in where they were. He organised the movement of as much of their stores as they could handle and then gathered his party in the vault.
He posted Carter at the bottom of the shaft. The first Megaronian to poke his head through the gap in the floor would have it ventilated by a terminal hole. Even if they went to work methodically and breached all the elevator cages, so that more than one at a time could drop to the lower level, the advantage still lay with the defence. Meanwhile, the only possibility of progress was to get inside the rock fortress. First priority was to see whether he had scotched the protective-beam gear.
A movement caught his eye. Urion had been talking to Helena and now knew the score. Before anybody could stop him, he walked firmly down the corridor, past the rickety dolmen of seat squabs and on towards the end.
Koenig’s shout of ‘Wait!’ went unnoticed or unheard. Urion had closed his mind to any outside interference. He reached the closed end still erect and unharmed and turned round to face them. He said simply, ‘It is safe.’
Hepa was first to join him. She said, ‘That was very brave. You might have been killed.’
He said, ‘I am nearest to oblivion of our party. I can most easily be spared.’
‘Not by me.’
‘I am old.’
‘What has age to do with it, when minds are in tune?’
Almost shyly he took her hand and kissed it. ‘You are very kind to say that.’
Koenig and Karl joined them. Koenig said, ‘We are all grateful. Now we have to open this door. The engineers who devised it were contemporaries of those who built the city block. They might have used the same techniques. Search the walls and the floor for release gear.’
Helena Russell found it, shoulder high in the right-hand wall; a section of tiling pivoted away to reveal a recess. Inside were the familiar levers.
Palms flat on the shutter, Koenig, Karl, Helena and Bergman heaved away and felt it lift. It was waist high when Koenig suddenly thought that there could be other protective gimmickry behind it. He said, ‘Hold it there!’ and dropped to his knees to look through the gap. The interior was well lit, with no visible light source. Surfaces were dust free, clean and shining. Walls, floor and ceiling were clinically white. Directly ahead and twenty metres off, a flight of wide shallow stairs with bronze handrails ran up to the next floor. Craning his neck to follow them, he saw feet on the top landing and then the whole person of an incredibly ancient man in a blue, belted robe.
The advantage in the encounter was all with the oldster. He also knew who the visitor was, crouched on hands and knees at the foot of the throne. His voice was hardly more than a wheeze, but it carried the distance. ‘Commander Koenig. You may bring your people in. I shall not harm you.’
Koenig was on his feet, laser in hand. There had been enough surprises on Megaron. He said, harshly, ‘Your protective ray would have been all you needed. Why this change of heart?’
‘I switched it off when I gave you light.’
It could have been true. Koenig kept his eyes on the oldster and spoke to Bergman. ‘Take it up, Victor.’
The slab at his back slid away into its housing. The old man spoke again. ‘I welcome you, Alphans and Outfarers. I am Cydon, the last custodian of the old wisdom. With me, the light goes out in Megaron.’
It was a big claim to make, and before Koenig could comment on it, there was a further complication. Carter called urgently down the corridor, ‘Visitors, Commander!’
Cydon said, ‘You have no choice, Commander. You will have to trust me. Bring your people inside and close the seal. This time it will not open so easily, I promise you.’
Koenig came to a decision. Cydon’s offer, good or bad, had to be better than a slow war of attrition which could only end one way. He said, ‘Rhoda, tell Alan to fall back. Helena, pick up your medical kit. They can have the rest of the stores. I have a feeling we won’t be needing them.’
As the three rejoined the main body, a sustained burst of fire thumped down the well shaft. All turned to look. The great shutter began to drop from the ceiling, cutting off sight and sound. As it hit floor level, there was a definitive click and a subterranean rumble. The counterweight system had been disconnected. There was no way in for the attackers. And no way out for the besieged. Koenig spun on his heel. The stairway was empty. Cydon’s wheeze came from nowhere in particular. ‘Do not be concerned. I was never with you. Come forward. You will have no difficulty in finding me.’
Victor Bergman said, ‘Projection? That’s feasible. A 3-D freestanding projection. This is very interesting, John. At last we might get to see how far the Megaronians went with their technology.’
Cydon was the soul of truth in one thing at least. There was no problem in finding him. At the head of the stairway, there was an oval landing with a circular kiosk where a commissionaire might once have sat. Six corridors opened off. Only one was lit. They followed it to another oval interchange and on through another lighted corridor. At the end, there was an elevator with its hatch open, waiting to receive them. It took them up for a short, swift tide and stopped at a landing, where the character of the set showed a change. It was executive country: deep-pile carpets and walls panelled in light-yellow wood like pine.
A section of panelling slid silently aside. Cydon, if this was the real man and not another trick image, was standing on a strip of blue carpet, in a room that was partly furnished as a lounge area and partly fitted out with very sophisticated hardware. He was as tall as Koenig, thin to the point of emaciation, eyes deep sunk in a time-ravaged face. The eyes, like Rhoda’s, were golden brown and contained all the vitality that the years had left him. He said, as though each word was fought over, ‘Be seated. You are not strangers to me. I watched from the moment you left your base on Earth’s moon. It is a great pleasure to speak again at last. I have not spoken since Helice died. That must be twenty years ago.’
Koenig could not help the thought that if the silence had been broken a little earlier, they would have been saved a lot of grief. He asked, ‘Do you have the power to speak to Alpha?’
‘Indeed I do. This base was the nerve centre of our space programme.’
‘You did not think we would have welcomed a reply to our signals?’
Cydon might have been old, but he was far from stupid. He understood the criticism behind it. He looked round the circle before answering. When he did, it was obliquely. ‘You Alphans are a young and vigorous people. The civilisation of Megaron was old when your ancestors toned from a nomadi
c way of life to that of small, settled communities. There are great differences between us.’
Helena said, ‘But, finally, you decided to help us. You could have left us to die outside your barrier. We thank you for allowing us to come through.’
Cydon gave a long sigh. The strain of making personal contacts after his long solitude was beginning to tell. His voice was barely audible as he said, ‘There is much to discuss with you and I have very little time. We have watched the people of Caster for many years. It is time they awoke from their long sleep. Do not judge them too harshly. What was done there went wrong, but the intention was not bad in itself. You cannot understand the great trauma which the human spirit suffered on Megaron. Those who set up the system were protecting the community from the unfettered excesses of the human will, which had almost ended life on Megaron. In so doing, they stifled the striving and the good, which also exist.’
Karl said, ‘I have seen more of the evil than the good.’
‘Just so. Just so . . . But I must speak, while I can, to the Alphans. Perhaps I can help you. Look.’
The old man, hardly more than a skeletal frame held together by the force of his mind, walked slowly to an instrument spread. On arrival, he leaned both hands on the console and gathered himself for the next move. Helena Russell, with a medico’s interest, was half out of her chair to go to him, but he said, without turning round, ‘Thank you, Doctor Russell, but there is nothing you can do for me.’
In the centre of the lounge area, there was a circular feature of blue tiling, like a large, empty plinth waiting for a statue. It began to fill from edge to edge with a swirling blue cloud. It grew thicker and more intense and then abruptly cleared, leaving in its place a 3-D miniature of the space base.
Tiny air cars drawn up on the terrace round the rock showed that the Megaronians had come in strength to hound the fugitives. Men were posted all round the admin silo.
The outer areas began to peel away as Cydon zoomed for a closer scan. They saw their own abandoned car and the head of the elevator shaft. Men were climbing down, carrying shoulder packs of what looked like blowtorch gear. Victor Bergman said, ‘Will they be able to break the seal?’
Still busy and changing the picture, Cydon said, ‘No. All the barriers are lined with infrangom. It is a metal which would interest you, Professor. Under pressure or in thermal agitation it gains greater strength. They have nothing which can penetrate it.’
The scene had moved to the interior of the rock. They were seeing the inside of a spherical bunker with launch and guidance systems that were familiar enough to the four Alphans. A hatch opened and they looked along a connecting corridor to a second hatch which opened like an iris eye to let them through to a gantry. It dissolved to a long shot from a high point down an immense well, ringed every few metres by gantries and spidery stairways. In the centre, the whold space was taken up by a long, slender rocket ship.
Cydon slowly panned down her length. Silver cone, brilliant white superstructure, immense hydraulic jacks, red and black propulsion units. At the waist, there was a stylised emblem, a great, golden bird rising from tongues of vermilion flame. Below it was the motto: ‘wisdom shall rise again.’
Carter said, ‘Holy cow. I thought our Ultra Probe was the last thing in spacers. That is a spacer. Did she ever fly?’
Cydon said, "Phoenix is a new ship. Her prototypes successfully probed to the nearer stars. She incorporates all the best features of her predecessors, with some refinements. She would fly. Of that there is no doubt.’
Carter said bitterly, ‘We are just a few millenia late for the passage. She only needs fuel and a back-up team. Little things like that.’
Cydon went off at a tangent, his voice gaining a little strength as he spoke with pride of the past. ‘Three hundred of the elite corps of scientists and technicians sealed themselves away in this sanctuary when the world of Megaron went mad in an orgy of destruction. The secret of survival is energy. Energy is life. Food, heat, light, power. That we could organise, though we were cut off from the tidal generators which once supplied the base.’
Bergman queried, ‘Reactors?’
‘Not reactors, nor solar energy, though either would have been technically possible. No, the brief was to organise a simple, inexhaustible supply with no complications. The answer lies in the residual heat of the planet itself. Geothermal energy. A deep shaft was sunk. A heat exchange system using liquified gas was set up and is working to this day. There is no reason why you should not live out your lives here and other generations after you.’
The human angle interested Helena. She asked gently, ‘And the others? Finally, you are alone.’
‘Ah, yes . . . You must understand, we are speaking of many, many centuries. We endured here longer than most civilisations take to rise and flower and fall again. Looking back over that history, I believe that at some point a psychic weariness must have blunted the life force. The waiting was too long. Even hope does not endure forever. Fertility levels dropped. The community ceased to replace itself. Helice and I, the last pair to remain, had no children.’
For Koenig, it was a preview of what could happen to Moonbase Alpha. Even the number of personnel was much the same. The human spirit needed space and freedom to grow. There was an idea in his mind which he hardly dared give house room, but he had to broach it. ‘Would the power from the geothermal well be enough to service Phoenix and launch her?’
‘No.’
Victor Bergman leaned forward in his chair and asked, ‘Is there fuel for her?’
‘There is fuel. But the power needed to open the silo and activate the control gear is much beyond what I can command.’
Carter said, ‘Is there no way?’
The question hung about unanswered. Cydon leaned heavily on his stick, as though he had already said too much and was regretting it. Then he lifted his head and looked at Koenig. ‘There is a way. Whether it could be done or not is another matter. I know what is in your mind and I will not try to prevent you. Why should I? I, too, would like to see Phoenix rise from Megaron as one last gesture from her days of greatness and perhaps, even, as a symbol of regeneration. The tidal generators supply the town of Caster with power. There is switchgear, which could divert that supply for use here. It would be dangerous and difficult and you are few to undertake such an enterprise. As in all matters of real importance, there is a choice. You have reached a certain sanctuary. Here you can live a comfortable life. That way, you would put all at hazard for the single chance of venturing again into the unknown.’
Koenig considered it. All eyes were looking his way. He said slowly, ‘How is Phoenix manned? What numbers is she designed to carry?’
She is designed for a crew of six. But the key desks on the command island are only four. Navigation, power, communication and command.’
Urion said, ‘I would not leave Megaron. If it will help you in your decision, Commander, do not consider me.’
Hepa said, quickly, ‘Nor I. Even if it is possible—and how can that be?—I would stay with Urion.’
Gelanor, glad to be able, at last, to be open about it, was holding Karl’s hand. She said, ‘You have no problems on that score, Commander. Who knows what the future is for the Outfarers and for Caster? We may yet live to see a change and the beginning of a new way of life. We have fought too long for it to leave now. Am I not right, Karl? We shall stay?’
‘Indeed, you are right.’ Karl covered her hand with his own.
Rhoda was very still, saying nothing. For once, she seemed to be out of programme. There was a moment’s pause and Bergman filled the silence. ‘No contest, John. If we can launch Phoenix, we must go.’
Helena Russell said, ‘I know you, John. You could never live with yourself if you missed a chance to reach Alpha. We have to try.’
There was a small flurry of activity. Rhoda had jumped from her chair and was away out of the lounge area at a run. Alan Carter caught her in the corridor and she struggled to break out of
his grip. When he turned her to face him, he saw that her eyes were full of tears.
‘What is it? What’s got into you, then?’
‘Oh, you! How can you ask that?’
‘What have I done?’
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s no answer.’
His grip was too strong to break, but she could thump his chest and she did that, until he smothered the action.
Golden eyes blazing, she said, ‘I suppose I am not clever enough for your Moonbase Alpha? If you were all that clever, you wouldn’t have got yourselves wandering the universe on a cinder heap!’
‘Don’t you want to come with us?’
‘I have not been asked.’
‘Commander Koenig will give you a place on the ship.’
‘Commander Koenig! Commander Koenig! I don’t care about your commander. I wouldn’t be going for him.’
The light dawned slowly on Alan Carter. A simple man of action, he had not thought that his position could be in any doubt. But she wanted it in clear terms. He bent down and swept her feet off the floor. He said, ‘As for you, Rhoda, you have no choice. I have to go. Either you come quietly, or I’ll shanghai you. I can’t leave half my life on this rock.’
‘Shanghai? What sort of a word is that?’
‘Shanghai, abduct, carry away, anything like that.’
‘You want me to go?’
‘I love you.’
‘Well why didn’t you say that in the first place?’
‘I thought it was obvious.’
‘Let me down, then.’
‘Will you come?’
‘Of course.’
They walked back into the seminar, hand in hand. Koenig had hardly noticed that they had gone. Suddenly there was a change in the whole situation, a U-turn which brought in so many new factors that his personal computer was racing to process the data. He had accepted Megaron as the butt and seamark of his utmost sail. Now there was a new horizon. Totally committed to the challenge, he paced Cydon’s thick pile carpet. Once more, Moonbase Alpha was in the equation, and he knew that a stern chase was a long chase. Every minute on the clock took Earth’s moon farther and deeper into the interstellar spaces.