"Frans Mabuse would like to see you and Mr. Gogarty when you're through here." He smiled at the others, recovering his usual calm, as if by a practiced effort of will. "He may have some news for us soon," he said, with just a hint of evasiveness. "Something about the planetary probe."
Fitz brightened excitedly. "You mean he's fixed it?"
"Not yet, but he has hopes that proximity to the sun might cause some needed metallic expansion. His theory is that it might free the antenna arm."
Jerry was watching the swami carefully with a rather glum expression. Danny wondered if he knew something that the holy man was avoiding.
"Well, that would certainly be a breakthrough," said Tallullah briskly while Lalille poured a new cup of tea. She cleared her throat which was usually a warning signal of strategy. "Swami, we were just discussing your own speciality, religion."
Sam momentarily tensed but again controlled himself, glancing warily at Dr. Saussure. He smiled graciously as he lifted his steaming cup. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. Religion is not my particular cup of tea."
Frederica stared at him curiously. His statement seemed to come as no surprise to Lalille, but her great blue eyes turned apprehensively toward Tallullah and Saussure.
Odell chuckled wryly. "That's the last thing I'd ever expect to hear from a yogi, from India, where it all began."
"Yes," said Tallullah, looking mystified. "What are you trying to tell us, Swami?"
"That eastern yoga is similar to western yoga, which you refer to as alchemy," Sam said pleasantly. "It's a step beyond religion, a metaphysical science."
Auguste Saussure frowned uncomfortably. "Alchemy is occultism, a preoccupation with heretical teachings and satanic practices."
Sam smiled again, but firmly. "Among the uninformed, Doctor. Remember, until we know what we don't know–" The ex-bishop colored visibly. "Sir, are you inferring that the authority of Holy Scripture is to be questioned?"
"Not in the least, my son," said Sam, and then he added emphatically, "only human interpretations. We call the dogmas maya – the bondage of illusion."
"All right now, gentlemen. This is only a general discussion."
"But it's pretty bad timing," said Freddie suddenly. "Things are too unsettled."
Tallullah sighed. "Oh there you go with your graphs again, Frederica!"
"They're valid," Freddie said stubbornly, and her big amber eyes appealed to Danny. "After the landing decision, the main curves showed a trend toward a gradual new adjustment, but the minority curves went into a very high-tension peak. I think we've problems enough just now without getting into religion."
"I wonder," said Jerry, "why it's always such a problem, simply to believe in God." He looked around innocently at startled faces. "I mean, it's like making a big deal out of the sunrise, or the simple miracle of a flower."
Lalille smiled softly at him and placed her hand on his. "Bless you, Jerry!"
Fitz and Danny exchanged glances. Did their wistful friend have something going with the Lily?
"If you will allow me–" Saussure started to say. He was interrupted by a P.A. announcement.
"Attention, all personnel!" It was Philo's voice, sounding elated. "Project members and off-duty crewmen are advised to go to the nearest monitor facility. The commander and Dr. Madrazo have an important message for everyone on board. Our planetary probe has responded to telemetry controls."
"Thank God!" said Fitz, but his own words seemed to startle him. "I mean, at last we'll get to take a close look at where we're going!"
Which was one way to break up a tea party, Danny thought, and probably none too soon.
The telemetry room was jammed, but as a member of the flight staff Danny had gotten in. Two color photographs had come through so far from the distant orbiting satellite. While everybody waited for the computer to process more pictures, excitement ran wild.
"A rich green mat like that can only be tropical forests!" said Cyrus Stockton.
"It supports the scanning data and what we got from the bio-probe," said Poyntner, his voice high-pitched with intensity. "Water, surface temperature, atmospheric pressure, humidity, ionization and radiation levels–"
"The absorption lines dovetail perfectly," said somebody else. "And look at those oceans!"
"Not to mention that volcanic haze, especially in this northwest quadrant."
Alonso said, "You may have hit it on the nose, Cyrus. It looks like late Mesozoic or early Cenozoic."
"Now we need blowups of some of these shots!"
"That's right. We can start evaluating the landing tradeoffs!"
Men were grabbing each other, patting backs, their faces radiant with an almost childlike expectancy.
"We've made it!" was the consensus. "We've got a fighting chance!"
The previous futility factor in Freddie's curves had vanished. The Mad Monk's cyborg armies of the blind were scrabbling off their slabs. It was like Resurrection Day. All this was mild by comparison with the emotional explosion that came a few hours later.
Boozie had been swamped with telemetry tasks during the initial phases of the photo excitement, but Danny had noted a peculiar fact about his Belgian buddy. Throughout all the shouting euphoria, his dour expression had not changed. There was neither smile nor smirk on Boozie's drawn, ascetic face. The ice blue eyes had impaled Danny just once in the midst of shouldering past him briefly, he had half-whispered, "All is not roses, baby. See me!"
Some time later, this was what he was trying to do, but God knew where the hero of the hour might be in all this confusion. He had just pushed his way into the crowded and noisy rec rooms when the P.A. system and the monitors started rattling at once.
"Photo blowups have revealed," said the video monitors. Alonso and Lyshenko were both speaking from the staff room.
The bombshell hit. There were signs of intelligent life, such as rectangular and other unnatural markings in the jungles and mountainous areas. There were even structures of some kind, apparently stone but of cyclopean size.
"This can only mean a human or humanoid level of intelligence," Alonso said solemnly. "The indications point to an early stage of civilization. Ladies and gentlemen, the Star Quest has succeeded. Man is not alone in the universe."
If the Sirius III had been a ship at sea, it might have virtually rocked under the impact. Cheers echoed deafeningly through the rooms and corridors. People ran in directionless glee, merely to be running and shouting and interacting. Friends caught Danny and pounded him on the back. Grown men hugged each other, many with tears on their shining faces. In spite of his concern over Boozie's cryptic message, Danny couldn't help being caught up in the tidal wave of emotional release. This wasn't only salvation, it was the end of centuries of desperate searching. The other polarity had been found: a world of sentient life in the awesome immensities of Creation. The philosophical and even religious implications were too much to grasp. He was soon in the swing of it and hugging or punching anyone who came his way.
"It's happened at last!"
"We did it! We've got it made!"
"Man, it almost doesn't matter if we ever see home. We've got ourselves a toehold, buddy!"
And so it went, while Danny pushed into the corridor that led to the observation deck. Here he encountered Foxy who had recovered from his fears. The little blond runt tagged after him like a babbling child; his pale-agate eyes were as round as a teddy bear's.
"I chickened out, you know it, Danny? At these odds look at the pool we could have got going! We would have cleaned up! But, man, things are just getting started!"
"Don't count your money, Foxy. We may not be using it in the colony."
Suddenly like an omen, there was Freddie Sachs with her long dark hair let down, the jumper collar awry and melony innocence welling unheeded. She was pushing along almost beside him, beaming and responding happily to everyone who spoke to her. When he reached out to her and called her name, what happened then was wonderfully spontaneous. He took her in hi
s arms, and they clung to each other.
"Oh, Danny, it's too much to believe!" she murmured into his ear. "Now there's really hope!" When she drew back slightly to look at him, there was a glorious sparkle of tears in her eyes.
He kissed her blindly.
It lasted for one magic, timeless moment until he whispered, "Maybe even for us."
She pulled away and he saw her big amber eyes before the shield snapped down. They had held startled fear clouded by either hurt or a fragile question. She turned and ran toward the observation deck. Foxy was babbling after him.
"Man, you slipped up on that one! She's the nervous virgin type, didn't you know? She can't even stand contact lenses, so when you come along like an octopus–"
Danny was deaf to him as he trailed her. Whether this was double-think or the Duke's transition of values, something had clicked irretrievably. The packaged ideologies of starman training had all come apart. As he envisioned the colony ahead of them and the years of a no-return, basic existence, he remembered her soft female essence in his arms, close to those tawny-gold eyes and the not so virginal warm lips. For just an instant she had been with him in that embrace.
Primordially he thought: should it be anyone else? Pike's sneering insinuation came back about the stone age planet and the tiger skin. This she is mine! said the Id. It was as corny as hell, but the role playing was gone. He didn't give a damn.
First, he had to explain, to reassure her.
CHAPTER VII
The observation deck was crowded with people who had come to catch a glimpse of the new world ahead. The steel shutters had been rolled aside, and the glittering star walls soared upward out of the cosmic abyss like long, fluorescent arms of coral in an infinite sea. The observation deck was just below the bridge so that it faced their goal. Just beneath their line of vision were the long, fragile-looking girders of the pod frame, stretching ahead like a ghostly hand in starlit silhouette. The forward retro-engine clusters were the final stubby fingers, pointing at a large, brilliant sun.
The blue filters were down across the viewing panels, which kept them from being blinded. The star ship was well within the alien solar system and the nearer planets had enough albedo to stand out in a 3-D mystical beauty from the stellar background. Some people crowded around a small deck telescope, but others were studying the more magnified electronic views of number four which were being transmitted over the monitors from the observatory. In one section of the room, somebody was praying aloud. It was Dr. Saussure, standing in the midst of a self-conscious but slowly growing flock, some of whom were kneeling.
"Almighty God," he intoned, facing the stars, "we invoke Thy infinite blessing in this historic moment, and we raise our hearts to Thee in soul-felt gratitude for this sign of Thy ever-enduring providence and grace."
It was too smooth, too packaged, said Danny's doublethink. He didn't know why, but it didn't concern him just now. Frederica was there, however, standing behind Lalille and Jerry. These two had dropped to their knees and were holding hands, no less.
He was intercepted by Fitz who was still wide-eyed with excitement.
"Man, this really turns me on!"
"I didn't know you were that religious."
"No, hell, I mean the planet!"
People shushed him. Danny caught Freddie's furtive gaze.
Just fleetingly it was that of a wary fawn, but then the clinicality came back and she concentrated stiffly on Saussure. He started toward her, but suddenly the prayer was interrupted by the blaring speakers.
"Attention, all personnel! Attention Emergency action three! Prepare for possible turbulence!"
There was no time to get to the pads or even the strapdown seats before the turbulence hit. The room trembled roughly as if the ship were traversing a graveled road. Shouts of alarm and amazement mingled with the insistent clamor of alert horns. The electrical display outside was polychromatic, splashing lightning streamers of rainbow colors across the stars.
"It's okay!" Danny yelled. "We're passing through some cosmic dust!" He knew that at their present velocity of close to a hundred thousand miles per hour they'd soon be through the very attenuated cloud. This one happened to be highly charged. The sensation of roughness was due to electrostatic interplay between the ship and the onrushing hurricane of microparticles.
When it passed as quickly as it had come, Danny and Fitz made a hurried exit along with Foxy. Crewmen were required to report to stations during or after an emergency. Foxy, they noted, was sweating again.
"Everything's okay on the bridge," Happy said when Danny put in a call upstairs. "But we're hitting another kind of flak just now. I'm sitting in for Pike again. He's down below on a security run, maybe a crisis call."
"What's happening?"
"We've got some flips. They could be dangerous."
"What deck?"
"Try E or F. I think in the galley area or maybe the reefers. But you'd better watch yourself, Danny. Somebody's been knifed already!"
Danny hung up and grabbed Fitz.
"What's up?"
"Freddie's curves, pal, and I don't mean legs. Let's go!"
By the time they reached deck E, the P.A. was warning everybody to clear the area. It was a crisis call. Crewmen and civilians fleeing the danger zone filled in scattered fragments of information. A man had died already, killed by a flip. Some other men had apparently backed him up, out of their heads on account of the colorful dust storm. There was something about the "hand of God." Two had been caught, but one was still running loose.
Several armed and helmeted Flight-Com guards ran by. "Hey, Gogarty, Troy!" one of them shouted. "You guys better head for the armory first if you're in on this. You'll need weapons."
They clattered down a narrow companionway to the deck below, followed by Danny and Fitz. They had lost Foxy somewhere. Evidently he had heeded the P.A. warnings and had retreated with the others. Danny was wondering what he and Fitz were doing here. It had been an impulse of the moment. Pike was in charge of security now. It was Adolf's job. Before he could make a decision, everything happened at once.
On F deck they could see down the corridor as far as the armory door. The heavy armored hatch was standing wide open and the dead body of a security man lay facedown across the threshold in a pool of blood. Danny and Fitz joined the FlightCom guards as they stopped to stare at the apparition that stood there over the body.
"It's Crotchy!" said Fitz incredulously.
Whitehead, the old micro technician and fundamentalist, stood there facing them, his gray hair wildly disheveled, his watery eyes staring madly. In his trembling hand was a bloodied carving knife from the galley.
"We must turn back!" he shouted hoarsely. "The monk and the swami were right all along, can't you see? We are an abomination! The warning of God is upon us! He has revealed His flaming sword! In His wrath He will defend this Eden world before us! Turn back or be damned!"
"He must have seen that electrostatic storm," Danny said. "The poor old coot!"
"Poor, hell!" said one of the guards. "He's killed a man, maybe two by now!"
"Hey, Whitehead!" the other guard shouted. "Throw down that knife!" He raised his beamer warningly. The stun weapon was capable of shocking a person painfully.
The old man wasn't in any condition to listen to reason. Instead, he dashed into the armory. Suddenly a powerful, sandy-haired figure appeared from behind the open door.
"I'll get him for you!" he shouted. "Hold your fire, everybody!"
"Hey, that's Torky!" said Fitz.
"Come on!" said one of the guards. "Let's get that nut before he gets us all in trouble! If he finds a grenade..."
They all stopped in the doorway to witness a scene that Danny would never forget. Torky Verga, a 240-pound athlete, was flailing about and screaming in dying agony, caught in the derrick-like arms and talons of a towering roborg.
"My God, stop that thing!" yelled Danny.
It was too late. The big man was literally disemb
oweled before their eyes. Suddenly, however, the cyborg monstrosity froze as if someone had turned off a switch. It stared at them remotely through its lenticular eyes. Down the aisle to their left, there was a rapid crackling of gunfire. They heard Crotchy scream. Out of the ammo racks stepped the helmeted figure of Adolphus Pike with a smoking machine rifle in his hands.
Danny stared at his belt. It held the roborg control. "Christ, Dolph, why didn't you–" He pointed at the mangled remains. "It's killed Torky!"
"Torky knew the rules," Pike said coldly. "He was out of his head to try that. This is a crisis call. It was announced. The roborgs are on, and this is the armory."
"But you could have stopped it!"
"I had my hands full," he said, referring to Crotchy.
"And you're a son of a bitch!" said Fitz. "Torky called out before he came in!"
"Guards!" snapped Pike warningly.
"Oh, screw it, Dolph!" Danny said. "That was off-the-cuff. There's trouble enough!" He signaled to Fitz, feeling slightly nauseated. "Let's call the meds."
"I'll take care of this," said Pike. "And you two keep shut about it. That's an order! As you say, there's trouble enough."
Danny didn't trust himself to argue, nor did he trust Gogarty's Irish temper. He pulled his companion away.
"So help me!" muttered Fitz between his teeth. "I'm going to get that bastard behind a bush someday after we've landed. I'll off-the-cuff him all right, the murdering, no-good..."
"Knock it off, Fitz. Torky's dead. There's nothing you can do to change it, so don't make it worse. Besides, that's a hell of a way to start a new world."
"I think I'm going to heave," said Fitz.
Their morbid preoccupations concerning Crotchy Whitehead and Torky Verga had brought the two of them farther into the depths of the ship. Fitz apparently wanted to withdraw from the milling crowds upstairs. His excuse was the damaged maintenance section. He was still steaming over Pike's tyrannical handling of the emergency, but now that a new world lay ahead of him he sought to balance out his emotions with his concern for the ship. As the master mechanic he had a heavy responsibility for the repair work schedules.
Star Quest Page 7