by Alan David
Starfall Muta
Alan David
© Alan David 1975
Alan David has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in 1975 by Robert Hale & Company under the pseudonym Graham Garner.
This edition published in 2016 by Venture Press, an imprint of Endeavour Press Ltd.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
The atmosphere in the control cabin of Probe 2 was tense, and had been for days. In addition to the normal duty watch the first landing party was assembled for final briefing, and they were staring at the planet of Muta that was looming now on the forward scanner screen. Captain Hurn looked at the four members of the landing party — three men and a woman — and as his gaze took in the tall, athletic figure of Commander Clark he knew this vital mission could not have been placed in better hands.
‘We’ll be swinging into an orbit around Muta in thirty minutes,’ Hurn said. ‘Be ready to detach from the ship in precisely thirty-one minutes. I guess we’ve covered everything possible in this briefing, but you will be expected to act upon your own initiative as soon as you detach. You know your mission, and all I want are your reports. Don’t try to exceed your orders. Once we’ve satisfied ourselves as to the suitability of Muta for general landing we’ll expand the foothold you’ll gain for us.’
Commander Clark, aged 30, tall and dark, glanced at the globe of the planet they had come two hundred light years to check out. Probe 1, sister-ship of Probe 2, had disappeared after reaching orbit around this planet. The last recorded message from Probe 1 had been the report that the ship had gone into orbit.
‘I won’t take any chances, Captain,’ Clark said tightly. He glanced at his Number Two, Major Balfin, who caught his eye and smiled. ‘I think we’ll do a good job.’
‘You won’t have to worry about security,’ Balfin retorted. ‘I’ll handle it.’ He glanced at Lieutenant Rip Mallory, and tightened his lips. He wished Mallory wasn’t going along. Mallory was reliable, except where women were concerned, and the fourth member of the party was Magenta Sabir, a scientific observer; a beautiful woman not yet thirty.
‘Just establish your base and set up your screens,’ the Captain said. ‘Soon as you report that you are established and have checked your surroundings I’ll start sending the main party down. But you’ll be on the planet’s surface at least two hours before any help could possibly reach you, should an emergency arise, and you’d better remember that and make allowances for it.’
Clark nodded. He glanced at the scanner screen once more. The planet of Muta was somewhat larger than Earth, with a pair of small moons in orbital attendance. The yellow sun that gave light and life to Muta appeared to be two thirds its way to burning out, but had enough life left in it for this present survey to go ahead without worry. But there was something to worry about, Clark reminded himself. Probe 1 had signalled arrival in Muta orbit, then nothing!
‘We’d better start preparing for detachment, Captain,’ Clark said, and he forced his concern into the background. His younger brother Vernon was Communications Engineer aboard Probe 1. He tried not to think of his brother’s fate.
‘Good luck,’ Hurn responded, and they turned and departed quickly from the control cabin …
The shuttlecraft was forty feet long, a miniature spaceship that was cradled in the underside of the parent ship. Clark found his tension mounting as he entered and sat down in the pilot’s seat. He belted himself in the seat and then ran through the sequence of checks that were necessary before they could detach. In the background he could hear the sharp voice of Rip Mallory checking the communications systems, and when he had ended his checks, Clark looked around to check on his crew.
Balfin was strapped in the observer’s seat, handling the controls of the shuttlecraft’s armament. He grinned boyishly at Clark as he glanced up. At forty-five, Balfin was unusually youthful, the fittest man on the ship.
Clark let his gaze slide left to the small figure of Magenta Sabir, the scientist. The woman’s dark eyes were watching him, he discovered, and she smiled, her full lips curving gently, as he met her gaze. He smiled in return, and for a moment his attention was diverted from his duty. She was a woman beautiful enough to turn the head of the most ardent duty-lover, he told himself, and compressed his lips and took a deep breath as he glanced at the chronometer.
‘Ten minutes to detachment,’ he called, and tension hit him once again. He pressed a button on the console in front of him and a red light came on as the Airlock Open sign glowed. His right index finger moved rapidly, depressing various buttons that activated red and green lights, and labels became illuminated as mechanical orders were passed through the computer. ‘Drive Ready!’ he reported.
‘Five minutes to detachment,’ Mallory reported.
Magenta Sabir strapped herself into an observation seat and took up a scanscope, peering with it through a viewport, looking at the planet, and Clark found his attention being drawn to the woman once more. He set his teeth into his bottom lip and checked the time. The minutes seemed to be fleeting by swiftly now.
Mallory sealed the hatch, and Clark glanced at the warning light, waiting for it to change from red to green. It flickered and changed, and Clark nodded to himself. He took a deep breath as he stretched out his right hand and let his index finger hover over the detach-button. He stared at the clock, waiting stolidly for the countdown. The next instant Mallory’s voice started counting down from ten. At zero, Clark pressed the detach-button, and they eased away from the massive black hull of the parent ship.
Clark felt a strange sense of vulnerability as they sped away from the larger ship. He glanced through the viewport at his right shoulder, saw the outline of the mother ship dropping back, and glimpsed the black backcloth of Space beyond, stretching away inimitably, knowing that no matter how far they travelled through Space, they would never reach its edge.
Clark was filled with a sense of wonder as they flicked into orbit. He forced himself to concentrate upon his job, and heard Mallory’s voice in the background, in contact with Probe 2. He glanced sideways at Balfin, and felt safe in the big man’s company. The Major had a reputation that was hard to beat.
Mallory was talking into the communicator, reporting that all systems were fine, but suddenly the Lieutenant broke off and began pressing buttons on his console. Clark frowned and turned his head to look at Mallory, and at that moment the interior of the small shuttlecraft was briefly illuminated by a sudden purple-white flash. Almost simultaneously the shuttle-craft lurched sickeningly and wrenched out of its smooth course. It almost stood on its tail, and whirled out of control.
Clark instinctively thumbed down the stabilizer button, leaning heavily against his straps. There was no undue sound to account for the unexpected gyrations, and he clenched his teeth as he looked at the rows upon rows of dials and meters, looking for an explanation.
‘Oh, my God!’ There was almost a note of hysteria in Magenta Sabir’s harsh voice.
Clark glanced at the woman, saw she was holding a scan-scope to her eyes, staring through a port at Probe 2, and Magenta let the scanscope drop from her hands. Clark saw her face was chalky white, her eyes wide with shock, and a sudden cold fear clutched at his heart.
‘What’s wrong?’ he snapped.
She
turned shocked eyes wearily towards him. Her lips were stiff, her mouth gasping as if she were in the last throes of oxygen starvation.
‘The ship!’ she cried. ‘It’s gone! There was an explosion!’
Clark felt disbelief seeping into his mind. He struggled to keep his thoughts steady. The shuttlecraft was beginning to return to its smooth flight, and he flicked a switch that let the auto-pilot take over, cutting in the computer control that would take the craft down to within landing distance, when he would again resume control. He got out of his seat, his hands trembling as he moved to Magenta’s side. He took up the scanscope and moved to the rear observation panel, peering out with the scope, trying to pick up Probe 2.
He had trouble finding it! At first he couldn’t believe the evidence of his eyes. Instead of the massive space ship with its smooth, unbroken lines, there was merely a shattered hulk, with the pale light of the nearby yellow sun slanting through the shredded metal.
Clark caught his breath, unable to take in the terrible vision, and before he could take a second look there was another gigantic flash which almost blinded him. He blinked and lowered his face into the crook of his right elbow, and when he was able to take another look at Probe 2 he discovered that there was nothing but a whirling group of particles riding the spot where the giant spaceship and four hundred humans had been!
‘What the hell happened?’ Balfin demanded. He was at Clark’s shoulder, his voice taut and filled with shock. ‘Is the ship all right?’
‘It’s gone,’ Clark retorted, and his voice was harsh and bitter. ‘Disintegrated — blown to pieces.’
There was a short silence, and Mallory, at his console, was still trying to regain communication with Probe 2. Clark turned on him.
‘You can quit trying, Mallory,’ he retorted in low tones. ‘The ship is gone.’
Mallory turned a pale face towards him, his mouth slack, his eyes wide with unnatural shock.
‘I heard a voice in the background, just before the lines went dead,’ he said jerkily. ‘It reported picking up missiles on the scanners.’
‘So the ship was attacked!’ Balfin turned and went back to his seat, prepared to fight.
Clark returned to the pilot’s seat, switching on the scanners. He was thinking of Probe 1, trying to impress upon himself that his brother might still be alive. But after what had happened to Probe 2 he knew it couldn’t be possible.
‘If Probe 2 has been destroyed, how do we get away from this planet?’ Mallory demanded.
Clark’s lips pulled tight as he considered. If alien action was responsible for the loss of the vast spaceship then there was more trouble to come! Balfin was obviously thinking along the same lines.
‘What makes you think we’ve got any kind of a chance of getting away?’ the Major demanded roughly. ‘Whoever destroyed Probe 2 used a very sophisticated weapon, and no doubt we’re being tracked right now. It’ll be our turn next.’
‘Cut that out, Kester!’ Clark’s voice cracked in the tense atmosphere. ‘Let’s get this ship down on the ground as fast as we can.’
‘But what about when we want to get away?’ Mallory demanded. ‘We’re gonna be stranded down there.’
‘We’ll be safer on the ground than up here. With the kind of weapons being used, we’d be sitting ducks up here in orbit.’ There was a harsh note in Kester Balfin’s voice. ‘Get us down on the ground as quickly as you can, Commander.’
‘We’re going down all right,’ Clark said through his teeth. He was checking the control console, and quickly saw that the ship was being forced out of its present orbital descent. ‘Someone is using a tractor beam on us. We’re being controlled.’
‘We established before we reached Muta orbit that the planet is inhabited,’ Magenta said thinly.
Clark strapped himself once more into his seat, and peered through the view port at the grey and brown planet. The shuttle-craft was on an even keel once more, functioning normally after the terrific shock wave that had overpowered her.
‘We’d better prepare ourselves for a fight,’ Balfin said grimly. ‘The planet is habited all right, and the natives are not friendly. They fired on the ship without warning.’
‘It’s what must have happened to Probe 1,’ Mallory said. ‘For Heaven’s sake, Commander, let’s keep off the ground. There are four of us. We can’t hope to win any fight, and we certainly won’t be able to parley with the natives.’
‘We’re too far from home, or any friendly planet, to hope to make safety in this craft,’ Clark said, and he fought down the tremor of panic that threatened to engulf him. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that without Probe 2 there was no way of returning to Earth. They were stranded out here on this alien planet.
‘Try and take manual control of the craft,’ Balfin said. ‘Perhaps we’ve got a computer malfunction. We did take a heavy knock back there.’
Clark switched out the computer and took over the controls. For a few moments he was unable to get any response, and his supposition that they were under the control of alien forces was strengthened, but suddenly the craft jarred slightly, then the instruments began registering, and he found control in his hands.
‘I’ve got it,’ he said, and there was hope in his tones.
‘Are we landing?’ Mallory demanded.
‘We have no alternative.’ Clark pulled his lips tight. ‘I calculate we have two hours before we touch down.’
‘And if we’re being tracked on some kind of radar?’ Mallory demanded. ‘Then what?’
‘I don’t even want to guess,’ Clark retorted. He switched on sensors and radar, half afraid to look at the screens, but there were no tell-tale dots of light showing anywhere to warn of approaching warheads.
‘Do you think anyone got off Probe 1?’ Balfin demanded.
Clark didn’t want to think about that. He dared not let his mind dwell upon the four hundred personnel aboard Probe 2. Captain Hurn and all his colleagues — all gone, wiped out in that blinding flash!
Suddenly the dials and indicator lights blinked and ceased functioning, and Clark jabbed anxiously at the testers.
‘We’re in trouble,’ he reported at length. ‘The ship’s controls are dead. Nothing seems to be functioning.’
‘Are we gonna crash?’ Mallory demanded.
‘Unless I can find out what the trouble is!’ Clark was already checking circuits. He had an idea where the trouble might lay, thanks to the interminable months of training. He quickly decided that the main circuits were not damaged, but there was no life at all in any of the power units. While panic tried to invade his mind he reasoned it out coldly, his hands steady as he searched for faults. The testers worked, and he was frowning when he saw that none of the circuits had been damaged.
‘Found anything?’ Balfin demanded anxiously.
‘Nothing yet!’ Clark’s voice was steady, but his forehead was beaded with sweat. ‘Everything seems to be in order.’
‘Then it must be the main drive,’ Balfin retorted.
‘No!’ Clark shook his head. ‘All indicators are working. There’s nothing wrong with main drive.’
‘Except that it’s dead!’ There was a grim note in Balfin’s voice. ‘It looks as if the rest of our crew had it lucky. I don’t suppose any of them knew what hit them. But we’re going to burn up in that atmosphere down there if you can’t get a spark out of our motors.’
‘The computer!’ Clark compressed his lips as he considered. ‘If the computer is damaged then it would kill all power.’
He reached out and switched off computer control. The craft was still behaving erratically, but with less alarming antics. Tension gripped the interior, and the silence was throat-clutching. Clark cut out the feeder and switched off the impulse regulator. He took a deep breath as he pressed the ignition button. A spark of hope spurted through him when the main drive turned over, but it didn’t catch, and he moistened his lips as he prepared to try again. At his side, Balfin was breathing heavily.
> But this time the main drive picked up, and Clark fed power to it and turned to grin at Balfin.
‘It must have been the computer,’ he said. ‘I think it will be all right now. But I shan’t be happy until we get down on the ground.’
‘It won’t be too long at this rate,’ Balfin retorted.
Clark watched the small scanner screens, and saw the surface of the planet in more detail. He worried about the tractor beam that had been holding them, and used the controls to check if they were still being held. He found the craft veering to the right, and hope began to raise its head once more in his mind. The tractor beam had been switched off or had lost them.
But reality was hard to face, Clark found. His mind was laced with the shock of what had happened, and he seemed to be living in a nightmare. He stared at the planet they were approaching, wondering what lay ahead of them. There was hostility for certain, for Probe 2 had been destroyed without warning. He found himself tingling with anticipation and apprehension.
‘We’re getting pretty close to the planet now,’ Balfin commented. ‘What can we do for the best, Commander? Have we got sufficient fuel to take us anywhere? This course might drop us straight into trouble. That tractor beam held us, so someone knows we’re alive and on this approach.’
‘We’re on manual, and as soon as our speed decreases I’ll turn away from our present course.’ Clark found his mind beginning to work freely once more, his shock at the destruction of their ship being pushed into the background by his discipline and training. This was the kind of emergency his training had been slanted to cover.
‘To the right!’ Balfin’s voice quivered with suppressed emotion. ‘It looks like habitations to me — a town maybe.’
Clark took his gaze from the screen and peered out the viewport. He saw grey patches on the horizon, and nodded slowly.
‘You’re right, Kester,’ he retorted. ‘Looks like a town to me. They’ll be watching us, I’ve no doubt.’