The Black Corridor

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The Black Corridor Page 13

by Michael John Moorcock


  'Studying—resting—checking out various functions— standard ship routine.'

  'You seem to be working together very well,' Ryan says.

  'Better than before. We've got something in common now, after all.'

  Ryan feels a touch of panic. He doesn't know why. Is there something in Henry's tone? A sort of triumph? 'What do you mean?'

  Henry shrugs. 'Our great mission.'

  'Of course,' says Ryan. He sucks his lower lip. 'Of course.'

  But what did James Henry really mean? Is it that they have got rid of him. Do they believe that he was the cause of their tension?

  Is that what Henry is insinuating?

  Ryan feels his throat go dry. He feels his anger rising.

  He controls himself. He isn't thinking clearly. He still needs to rest. Josephine was right.

  'Well, keep up the good work, James,' he says, turning to leave.

  'If there's anything I can do..."

  'You could check the Hibernation Room some time,' Henry says.

  'What?' Ryan frowns.

  'I said you could check the hydration loom—in hydroponics.'

  'Sure. Now?'

  'Any time you feel like it.'

  'Okay. I'm still a bit shaky. I'll get back to my bunk, I think.'

  'I think you'd better.'

  'I'm perfectly all right now.'

  'Sure. But you could still do with some rest.'

  Ryan again controls his temper. 'Yes. Well—I'll see you later.'

  'I'm here whenever you need me, captain.'

  Again the feeling that James Henry is mocking him, just as he used to, before it became intolerable...

  He feels faint. No. Henry is right. He's still not properly recovered. He staggers back to his cabin.

  He falls into his bunk.

  He sleeps and he dreams.

  *

  He is in the control room again. James Henry stands there.

  James Henry is trying to supersede him. James Henry has always wished to take over command of the group and of the spaceship.

  But James Henry is not stable enough to command. If he takes over from Ryan the whole safety of the ship becomes at risk. Ryan knows that there is only one thing to do to stop Henry's plotting against him.

  He raises the Purdy automatic—the same gun that he used on the aircraft. He levels it at James Henry. He takes a deep breath and begins to squeeze the trigger.

  The computer flashes: URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED Henry turns. Ryan hides the gun behind his back. Henry signals to him to have a look at the computer. Ryan approaches it suspiciously.

  ******YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS******CRAFT"

  "'REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO******COMMAND THIS CRAFT"

  REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO******CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS CRAFT"

  "TAKE ONE DOSE*ICC PRODITOL INSTANTLY AND REPEAT DOSE DAILY FOR***

  FOURTEEN DAYS"

  "YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO******COMMAND THIS CRAFT"

  "YOU ARE ENDANGERING THE****ENTIRE EXPEDITION IF YOU DO NOT FOLLOW THESE******INSTRUCTIONS AT ONCE"

  "REPEAT AT ONCE**********************

  Ryan looks contemptuously at Henry. 'You'll use anything to try to discredit me, won't you?'

  Henry says calmly: 'You are a sick man, Ryan. The computer's right. Why don't you...?'

  Ryan raises the Purdy automatic and fires one bullet into Henry's skull. The man's head jerks back. He opens his mouth to say something. Ryan fires again. James Henry falls.

  Ryan scowls at the computer. 'The next one's for you if you go on playing games with me, chum.'

  He turns the cut-out switch.

  *******YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS**********************************************

  URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED

  URGENT AT

  Tension, tension everywhere

  Not any time to think

  CRAFT"

  "REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO***********************************************

  There is d...

  Q. WHAT IS THE EXACT NATURE OF THE CATASTROPHE?

  *

  Ryan wakes up, sweating. His suit is torn. The bunk is in a mess.

  He climbs off the bunk and stands on the floor, shaking. The Proditol just hasn't been enough. But he can't risk taking any more. He strips the bunk and disposes of the covers. He takes off his clothes and disposes of them.

  A feeling of desperation engulfs him. Is he really incurable?

  Will he never shake the nightmares? He was sure he was better.

  And yet...

  Suppose they haven't been giving him Proditol. Suppose they are deliberately poisoning him. No. Not his friends. Not his family. They couldn't be so cruel.

  And yet hasn't he been cruel? Hasn't he done as much for expediency's sake?

  He sobs, drawing in huge breaths.

  Ryan falls on his bunk and weeps.

  He weeps for a long while before he hears his brother John's voice.

  'What's the matter, old chap?'

  He looks up. John's face is sympathetic. But can he trust him?

  'I'm still getting the nightmares, John. They're just as bad.

  Worse, if anything.'

  John spreads his hands helplessly. 'You must try to rest. Take some sleeping pills. Try to sleep, for God's sake. There's nothing to worry about. The responsibility was too much for you. No one man should have to bear such a burden. You're afraid that you might weaken—but it is right to weaken sometimes. You expect too much of yourself, old son.'

  'Yes.' Ryan rubs at his face. 'I've done my best, John. For all of you.'

  'Of course.'

  'What?'

  'Of course you have.'

  'People are never grateful.'

  'We're grateful, old chap.'

  'I'm a murderer, John. I murdered for your sake.'

  'You took too much on. It was self-defence.'

  That's what I think, but...'

  'Try to rest.'

  More tears fall from Ryan's eyes.

  'I'll try, John.'

  *

  The music has started again. The drums are beating. Ryan watches the dancers circle about the control room. They are smiling fixed, insincere smiles. James Henry dances with one of them. He has two holes in his forehead.

  Ryan wakes up.

  *

  The dream is so vivid that Ryan can hardly believe he did not shoot James Henry. Obviously he didn't. John would have mentioned it. He gets out of his bunk and pulls on a new suit of coveralls. He leaves the cabin and goes to the control room.

  It is empty, silent save for the muted noises of the instruments.

  There is no sign of any sort of struggle.

  Ryan smiles at his own stupidity and leaves the control room.

  Only when he is back in his bunk does he realise that there should have been someone on watch.

  He frowns.

  Things are relaxed. But should they be lax?

  He feels he should go and check, but he is sleepy...

  *

  He awakes to find the smiling face of his wife Josephine bending over him.

  'How are you?'

  'Still rough,' he says. 'You were right. I should have stayed in my bunk longer.'

  'You'll be fit and well soon.'

  He nods, but he is not confident. She seems to understand this.

  'Don't worry,' she says softly. 'Don't worry.'

  'I suspect everyone, Jo—even you. That's not healthy, is it?'

  'Don't worry.'

  She goes towards the door. 'Fred Masterson's thinking of dropping in later. Do you want to see him?'

  'Old Fred? Sure.'

  *

  Fred Masterson sat on the edge of Ryan's bunk.

  'You're still feeling a bit under the weather, I hear,' Fred said.

  'Still got the old persecution sniff, eh?'

  Ryan nods. 'I once heard someone say that if you had persecution feelings it usually meant
you were being persecuted,' he says.

  Though not always from the source you suspect.'

  That's a bit complicated for me.' Fred laughs. 'You know old Fred—simple-minded.'

  Ryan smiles slowly. He is pleased to see Fred.

  'I cracked up once,' Fred continues. 'Do you remember? That awful business with Tracy?'

  Ryan shakes his head. 'No...'

  'Come on—you remember. When I thought Tracy was having it off with James Henry. You must remember. When we'd only been on the ship for a month.'

  Ryan frowns. 'No. I can't remember. Did you mention it?'

  'Mention it! I should think I did! You helped me out of that one. It was you who suggested that Tracy would be better off if she was in hibernation.'

  'Oh yes. Yes, I do remember. She was overwrought...'

  'We all were. We decided that in order to ease the tension she should enter her container a bit earlier than scheduled.'

  That's right. Of course...'

  'Off course,' says Masterson.

  Ryan looks at him. 'You're not—you're not having a joke with me are you, Fred?'

  'Why should I do that?'

  'I'm still getting a touch of the trouble I had earlier. Visual hallucinations. It's nasty.'

  'I bet it is.'

  Ryan turns in the bunk. 'I'm a bit tired now, Fred.'

  'I'll be off, then. See you. Keep smiling.'

  'See you,' says Ryan.

  When Masterson has gone, he frowns. He really doesn't remember much about Tracy and Masterson's problems with her.

  It begins to dawn on him that he might not be as disturbed as he thinks. If he is in a bad way, might not some of the others be in equally poor shape? Maybe Fred Masterson has a few delusions of his own to contend with?

  It is a likely explanation. He had better be careful. And he had better humour Fred next time he sees him.

  He begins to worry.

  If they are all in bad shape, then that could threaten the smooth running of the ship. It is up to him to get well soon, keep a careful eye on the others.

  People under stress do odd things, after all. They get peculiar paranoid notions. Like James Henry's...

  Next time he sees John, he'll suggest, reasonably, that James Henry have another spell of hibernation. For his own sake and the sake of the rest of them. It could be suggested quite subtly to James.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Ryan's dreams continue.

  Once again he is in the control room. Most of his dreams take place in the control room now. He stares through the porthole at the void, at the dancers with their round black glasses, at his friends and family who stand behind the dancers. Sometimes he sees the old woman.

  When occasionally he wakes—and it is not now very often— he realises that he must be under heavy sedation.

  He hears the music—the high-pitched music—and it makes his flesh crawl. Dimly he wonders what is happening to him, what his one-time friends, his treacherous family are doing to him. There is now no question in his mind that he is the victim of some complicated deception, that he has been victim to this deception perhaps even before the spaceship took off, certainly after it left Earth.

  He does not know why they should be working against him, however; particularly since he is the chief engineer of their salvation.

  He is too weak, too drugged to do more than speculate about their plans.

  Was this why they were all originally put into hibernation?

  He seems to remember something about that now. Was that why he was so insistent that they should not be awakened until the end of the journey? Could be.

  But he had to crack up temporarily. The ship's emergency system awakened John who awakened the others and now they are in control, they have him in their power.

  It is even possible that they are not his family and friends at all, but could have brainwashed him into thinking they are. He remembers that old Patriot rally.

  'They look like us, sound like us—in every respect they are human—but they are not human...'

  God! It couldn't be true!

  But what other explanation is there for the strange behaviour of the rest of the personnel on board the Hope Dempsey?

  Ryan moves restlessly on the bunk. He has cracked up—no doubt about that. And the reason, too, is obvious—strain, overwork, too much responsibility. But there is no such explanation, when he thinks about it, for the behaviour of the others.

  The others are mad.

  Or they are...

  ... not human.

  'No,' he murmurs. 'Not Josephine and the boys. I'd realise it, surely. Not Janet, warm little Janet. Not Uncle Sidney and John and Fred Masterson and the women. And James Henry half believed the Patriots. He couldn't be one. Unless he was so cunning he...'

  He rolls on the bunk.

  'No,' he groans. 'No.'

  John comes into the cabin. 'What's the matter, old son? What's bothering you now?'

  Ryan looks up at him, wanting to trust his brother, wanting to confide in him, but he can't.

  'Betray me...' he mutters. 'You've betrayed me, John.'

  'Come off it.' John tries to laugh. 'What would I want to betray you for? How could I betray you? We're on your side. Remember the old days? Us against the world? The only ones who could see the terrible state the world was in. The only ones who had a plan to deal with it. Remember your apartment? The last bastion of rationalism in an insane world...'

  But John's tone seems to be mocking. Ryan can't be sure. His brother was always straightforward. Not like him to take that tone —unless this man is not his brother John.

  'We were an elite, remember?' John smiles. 'Sane, scientific approaches to our problems...'

  'All right!'

  'What did I say...?'

  'Nothing.'

  'I was only trying to help.'

  'I bet you were. You're not my bloody brother. My brother wouldn't—couldn't...'

  'Of course I'm your brother. East Heath Road. Remember East Heath Road where we were born? There was actually a Heath there in those days. Hampstead Heath. There used to be a fair there on Bank Holidays. You must remember that...'

  'But do you?' Ryan looks directly at the man. 'Or are you just very good at learning that sort of information? Eh?'

  'Come on, old son...'

  'Leave me alone, you bastard. Leave me alone or I'll...'

  'You'll what?'

  'Get out.'

  'You'll what?'

  'Get out.'

  *

  AFTER THE FAIR WE KIDDED HER...

  Q: PLEASE DEFINE SPECIFIC SITUATION

  AFTER THE PAIR WE KIDS WERE...

  Q: PLEASE DEFINE SPECIFIC SITUATION

  AFTER A PEAR WE DID THE...

  Q: PLEASE DEFINE SPECIFIC SITUATION

  AFTER A LAIR WE RID THE...

  Q: PLEASE DEFINE SPECIFIC SITUATION

  AFTER THE AFFAIR WE KILLED HER.

  *******'THANK YOU*******************************

  *

  'NO!'

  *

  NO NO NO NO NO

  NO NO NO NO NO

  NO O NO NO NO

  NONO NO NO NO

  NO NO NO NO NO

  NO NO NO NO NO

  NO NO NO NO NO

  NO N NO NONONONO NONONONO

  *

  NO!

  *

  Ryan rises from his bunk. He is weak, he is trembling. He vomits.

  He vomits over the floor of his cabin.

  I need kelp,

  He staggers from the cabin into the main control room.

  It is empty.

  No one on watch.

  The computer is flashing its signal: URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED.

  He is suspicious of the computer.

  Warily he approaches it.

  The computer says: *******CONDITION OF OCCUPANTS OF CONTAINERS NOT******REPORTED"

  "REPEAT CONDITION OF OCCUPANTS OF******CONTAINERS NOT REPORTED
"

  "REPORT YOUR OWN******CONDITION******

  REPEAT REPORT YOUR OWN CONDITION******LOG NOT FILED SIXTEEN DAYS"

  "REPEAT LOG NOT FILED******SIXTEEN DAYS"

  "CONDITION OF OCCUPANTS OF***********************************

  Ryan is astonished.

  It is plain to him that whoever else is running the ship, they are not running it as efficiently as he had been doing.

  He replies to the computer: *******OCCUPANTS NO LONGER IN CONTAINERS'"

  MY******OWN CONDITION IS POOR"

  "I HAVE BEEN OUT OF******OPERATION FOR SIXTEEN DAYS "

  "WILL FILE REPORTS AS******SOON AS POSSIBLE"

  "PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE***************

  He waits for a second. The computer replies.

  *******THANK YOU"

  "LOOKING FORWARD TO HEARING******YOUR LOG ENTRIES"

  "HOWEVER YOU ARE WRONG ABOUT******OCCUPANTS OF CONTAINERS"

  "THEY ARE STILL IN******CONTAINERS"

  "SORRY TO HEAR YOUR OWN CONDITION******POOR"

  "SUGGEST YOU SWITCH ME TO FULLY AUTOMATIC******UNTIL YOUR CONDITION IMPROVES"'"

  "DID YOU TAKE********RECOMMENDED DOSE PRODITOL"

  "REPEAT DID YOU TAKE******RECOMMENDED DOSE PRODITOL*******

  Ryan is staring incredulously at the second part of the message.

  Automatically he replies: ******YES I TOOK RECOMMENDED DOSE PRODITOL** and before the computer replies he leaves the main control room and runs through the dark corridors of the ship until he comes to the hibernation room. He touches the stud and nothing happens.

  The emergency locks must again be operating. Someone has switched them on.

  John?

  Or someone pretending to be John?

  He runs back to the main control room and switches off the emergency locks, runs back down the corridors to the hibernation room. He opens the door and dashes in.

 

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