by John Rankine
Koenig thumped his harness release stud and heaved himself out of his seat. He went through into the passenger module and Helena looked her question.
He said, ‘We’ve circled the planet twice and so far we’ve seen no signs of habitation, no unusual structures, nothing that suggests intelligent life—but we’re still looking.’
It was strange—if the planet was the source of the Moon’s erratic behaviour—and it was disappointing. Koenig sat down, rubbing his face with both hands as though to wear away a sour skin of tiredness. All hands moved to stations. Helena paused long enough to stroke Koenig’s bent head and then took her place beside Victor Bergman to process the data he was pulling in from the sensors.
Luke Ferro was taking a series of stills as Carter took Eagle One in a low run over a stark, lifeless plain with the same outcrops of grey rock and trees that looked as though no bird had ever nested in their lifeless limbs. Sitting beside him, Anna Davis collected the frames and identified them for assembly.
Carter watched the scene unroll from his direct vision ports and called Koenig, ‘We’re wasting our time, Commander. It’s just desolation out there.’
Koenig had the same view from the passenger module. He said, ‘All right, Alan. Steady as you go.’
He stretched wearily and joined Bergman, ‘What have you got, Victor?’
‘This was a living world . . . once . . . but something happened, some terrible catastrophe overtook it which obliterated all life.’
Helena added, ‘From the radioactive trace elements in the atmosphere I’d guess at some kind of holocaust in the distant past.’
‘So the planet is uninhabitable?’
‘Not quite. The atmosphere has stabilised now. Radiation is down to tolerable levels.’
‘Stabilised? How do you arrive at that? There’s no cycle of plant life to leave free oxygen.’
‘True, but there are no agencies at work using it up. As I see it, the atmosphere remains much as it was at the point when life stopped.’
It was an argument that could go on and Koenig reckoned that time was not on their side. ‘Then we’d better get down there to find some real answers, before life stops on Alpha.’ He called the driver. ‘Take her down, Alan.’
There was a thinning of darkness as Alan Carter wheeled Eagle One in a tight turn, looking for a planet-fall. When he touched down in a flurry of dry dust it was darker at ground level but there was a sense of impending dawn.
When they opened the hatch and stepped out to the surface there was an overwhelming sense of desolation.
One place was as good as another. Koenig said shortly. ‘Off-load what gear you need. We’ll set up by that rock face. As fast as you like.’
They moved it along with a will. They were in a limbo that oppressed the mind. Action was a welcome relief. When the stores were out, they had the rough beginnings of a base camp. Koenig called them together, ‘Each pair will investigate an area. If for any reason you move off line, let security know about it. Stay with your partner and maintain the commlock link at all times. One final thing . . . I don’t have to labour this one . . . the fate of Alpha, all of us for that matter, depends on what answers we come up with. That’s about it.’
Bergman and Helena shouldered their packs and moved off. Anna Davis, watched by Luke, took a precise compass reading and they went off, together. Irwin and N’Dole brought out the last necessary gear and Irwin reported to Koenig. ‘That’s everything you wanted, Commander.’
‘Fine. You know the drill. ‘We’ll call in as arranged. Keep on alert.’
‘We’ll do that, Commander.’
‘Ready, Alan? We take designated area seven.’
As they moved off, they could see their Moon, eerily similar to its aspect when viewed from Earth. But there the likeness ended. From a rising hillock, they could see the landscape in bright starlight, dotted with jagged rock formations and clumps of dead trees. A thin band of pale viridian marked the beginning of day.
There was no more to see from the next rise or the next. What he was looking for, Koenig could not have said precisely. The only sure thing was that it didn’t seem likely to be anywhere around.
At a third hill, Koenig stopped. He said, ‘It’s hard to believe that this place was once alive with trees stirring, grazing animals, maybe intelligent life organising itself.’
‘We came a few thousand years too late.’
‘Well, there’s no profit on this line. Let’s get back and see what the instruments have to say.’
Anna and Luke Ferro had hit the edge of a large petrified copse. For the record, Ferro made a photoscan of individual trees and Anna Davis, kneeling on the deck searched methodically for remnants of dry, preserved leaf forms. A small, sad dawn wind seemed to have localised itself in the ancient grove.
Luke, still batting conversationally in spite of negative response, said, ‘I’ve come to realise this is no tropical paradise with humming birds and that; but this place really gets to me.’
Anna went on working, studying a leaf and comparing it with a reference kit. He went on, ‘Still, after living on Alpha, I guess any open space can seem strange.’
She was still working on her samples, but her manner, even for a controlled and orderly subject, looked tense and excited.
‘What do you have, then? A bread fruit tree?’
‘Luke, scan the trees just here.’
It was progress. She wanted him. He moved over, all agog.
Helena Russell and Victor Bergman were at the mouth of a cave. Light was strengthening all the time, but it brought no improvement to the landscape.
Bergman looked around in disgust, ‘The scenery doesn’t change much, does it?’
She was busy with her geiger counter. Radiation was low. The planet was ready to start again on the long cycle of growth and decay. She said, ‘Crops might grow but the soil’s dead. Totally devoid of bacteria. It would take a long time to get things growing.’
‘That’s one thing we don’t have . . . time.’
She stood in the cave entrance. There was more light by the minute as though a curtain was being run back. Bergman joined her and they went in. Ten metres from the entrance there was a dog leg twist and they moved cautiously into it not relishing the feel of the place. Then their eyes were adjusting to the lumen count and any reservations they had were justified in full measure.
It was a large, vault-like burrow. The walls were covered from floor to roof with close set inscriptions. It was like being set down in a hole in a book. But the centre tableau held their eye and froze them with a shock of horror. They had come across the people of the country and they were not going to answer any questions. There were eight skeletal forms sitting erect at an endless board meeting. The debate was long finished. The ashen light gave the bare bones and grinning skulls a sickening glow.
Having had one as a companion for many years when a medical student, Helena Russell had no difficulty in recognising the genre. She said, ‘Human skeletons!’
Koenig reckoned the cave as the nearest thing to a break in the blank face of the planet. They had concentrated all hands in the area. Bergman worked on the painted texts. He said, ‘How much do you know about ancient Earth languages, John?’
‘Earth languages?’
‘Unless I’m mistaken these inscriptions are in Sanskrit.’
It made no kind of sense. Helena Russell left a heap of bones and joined them looking startled.
Koenig said, ‘Sanskrit?’
‘Yes, the basic proto-European root language, Sanskrit—the mother of tongues.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not sure, but the similarity is there.’
Helena said, ‘John . . . Anna Davis would know. This is her field.’
‘What?’ It was almost too much for coincidence. He said, slowly, ‘Computer chose better than it knew.’
He flipped open his commlock, ‘Anna, get here right away.’
There was a pause until footsteps sounded down the echoi
ng ante room and she came in with a rush followed by Luke Ferro.
Both stopped. It was all new to them, but it seemed to hit them harder than anybody yet.
Anna Davis’s voice was an awed whisper, ‘What is this place?’
Koenig said quietly, ‘Over here, Anna.’ He pointed to the wall. ‘Here’s something we need your opinion on.’
For a beat, she studied the surface, hand to her mouth. Then she took a half step back into Luke Ferro. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Sanskrit?’
‘Sanskrit. Yes . . . but different, somehow . . . an earlier form perhaps . . . but how can that be, here, a million light years from Earth . . . how?’
‘We don’t know. Not yet. Can you decipher it?’
‘Without the use of the main computer it will take time . . . yes, I think so.’
‘Okay, get to it.’
Luke Ferro was staring as though transfixed at the skeleton chairman. His expression was an odd mixture of fear and fascination. If the bony structure had been clothed in flesh and granted eyeballs, it would have appeared that he was being hypnotised.
Koenig said sharply, ‘Luke! Luke, are you okay?’
The words took time to penetrate. Luke Ferro seemed to make a big physical effort to break away. He said, ‘Yes . . . fine . . .’ He looked over at the wall, back to the quiet skeletons and then back to Koenig who was watching him narrowly.
He said, ‘I’ll help Anna.’
Far away, in Main Mission, Paul Morrow had pulled out a backgammon board and was playing Kano in a vicious, positive game. Minutes were peeling off the clock like lead strips. The monitor now read POWER LOSS RATE 26%.
Morrow held up his throw to hit a switch for a new check. It read, POWER LOSS RATE 30%. With a grim look at Kano, he called the base on the PA net. ‘Attention all sections Alpha. This is Controller Paul Morrow . . .’
Tanya crossed his line of vision as she came in with an armful of heavy sweaters and he held the line open while he caught one. She said, ‘Here, this will keep your dice hand supple.’
Morrow went on, ‘Phase Four power reductions now operative. Until further notice, travel tube facilities between Alpha Sections 1 to 4 are suspended. Heating will be automatically reset to number four and Moonbase lighting systems will reduce to half power.’
Alphans, listening at communications posts, took it in gloomy silence. Lights slowly dimmed. As Morrow shrugged into his sweater, the medicentre direct line buzzed and Mathias appeared on the monitor screen. ‘Paul, I know you’ve got problems, but I must have more power. I’ve got patients here who’ll freeze to death.’
Morrow’s head reappeared through the neck hole. He said, ‘Sandra, allocate four extra units to the medicentre.’
It pleased Mathias, with a ‘Thanks’ he switched himself off link. Paul Morrow went on, ‘Reduce heating in Main Mission by four units.’
Sandra said, ‘Check, Controller.’ If she was due to freeze, she would stick to protocol. She watched Morrow take up the game. She had never seen him look so frustrated. Kano said, ‘Don’t worry it can only get worse.’
On the planet surface, Luke Ferro and Anna Davis were working smoothly together on the only lead that had come up. Luke had refined an aerial photograph technique to cover the walls with a picture grid. They had cleared the table of its dead and Anna was using his magnified print-outs as a continuous text and running the take through a computer scan which Victor Bergman had improvised.
Intent and absorbed, she seemed to be reconciled to the ominous brooding stillness in the heart of the rock.
Luke took a final section and joined her at the table.
‘How’s it going?’
‘If only we had access to the reference library.’
He pointed to the pile of old bones, ‘And if they could talk, we’d know how they died. Have we learned anything?’
‘Let me get on and I might be able to tell you!’
There was no sting in the protest and her smile was for an ally or even a fellow conspirator.
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t mind me. I get really involved.’
‘You’re right, of course. The sooner you’re finished, the quicker we can get out of this place.’
Koenig and Carter joined the rest of the party in the camp area where Helena was already repacking some of her equipment.
Bergman asked, ‘Any luck, John?’
‘Not a thing. Nothing we’ve seen could have caused what’s happening on Alpha. Helena . . . those skeletons?’
‘They were humanoid . . . pretty much like ourselves. The bones show they died of radiation, somewhere between twenty and twenty-five thousand years ago.’
It got him no further. Thoughtfully, he said, ‘There’s something about that cave that bugs me. Let’s get back there.’
It was not doing anything for Luke Ferro either. When Koenig and the others rejoined, he was listening to Anna’s tentative translation and darting nervous glances around the area.
She read out, ‘To you . . . who seek us out . . . by the . . . I think it’s ages . . . yes . . . in the ages to come. I . . . something—a proper name possibly . . . guardian . . . salute you. The desolation you find . . . distresses . . . no, not distresses—grieves we few who will soon die.’
Her clear, quiet voice was at odds with the macabre death pit. After another reference to the print-out, she went on, ‘We are an unfortunate or accursed people. Our civilisation gone. Our world Akane . . . Arkad . . . no, Arkadia—our world Arkadia, poisoned, dying. We who caused our own . . . death? . . . No I don’t think it’s death . . .’
Bergman said softly, ‘Destruction?’
‘Yes, that could be it—destruction, have paid the price of ignorance and greed. No need now to tell of that final event . . . happening . . . ?’
Everybody wanted to help, Helena said, ‘Disaster . . . holocaust?’
‘That’s it . . . the final holocaust when our world burned In the inferno of a thousand . . . no, ten thousand, exploding suns.’
She stopped and looked at Koenig, ‘There’s more of this. The imagery is very difficult.’
‘You’re doing more than well, go on.’
‘Arkadia is finished . . . but she will live on . . . the bodies . . . ? the hearts and minds of some few of our . . . most precious . . . aware?’
‘Enlightened?’ Koenig added his bit.
‘Right! Enlightened people, who left before the end . . . taking the best . . . the something of a new beginning.’
Luke came to with an effort of will, ‘Seeds.’
‘Seeds of a new beginning. To seek and find or begin. I think it’s begin. Yes. Seek out and begin again in the distant regions of space. Heed now the Testament of Arkadia.’
She paused and leaned back. Luke Ferro put a hand on her shoulder. Surprisingly she covered it with her own and then gently disengaged to get back to work. ‘There’s a passage here, I can’t make sense of. I’ll need the memory banks in main computer. Then it goes on . . . You who are sent, no guided. You who are guided here, make the land fertile . . . help us to live once more . . . help us to live again. Farewell.’
There was a digestive silence. Finally, Koenig said, ‘Human skeletons. An Earth language. People from Earth in this place, twenty-five thousand years ago.’
Helena Russell said, ‘We know that’s impossible, John.’
Bergman agreed, ‘Our ancestors were enterprising enough. They were just inventing the wheel. But space travel? No. Not on!’
There was a gasp from Luke Ferro and every eye tracked round to him. He was tense, quivering with a curious emotion. He said, ‘No! Earth people did not come here. The Arkadians . . . they found Earth.’
Out and about, echoing round the quiet cave, it had the ring of revelation.
Koenig said, ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Ask Anna . . . she knows.’ He bent down to her for support, ‘Tell him, Anna . . . the trees. Tell him about the trees.’
&nbs
p; She hesitated and he went on, ‘The trees out there. We found Oak, Pine, Willow, Beech—forty different varieties of trees. Every one of them native to Earth.’
Anna Davis was looking at him enrapt as though seeing him for the first time. She nodded in confirmation.
Luke Ferro was inspired as he explained, ‘You heard the inscription. The Arkadians took the seed with them. They found a new Arkadia. The planet Earth. This is our homeland. Our people originated here on this planet.’
CHAPTER TEN
Sunset in Arkadia was no improvement. The great disc of the sun was blood red and added another dimension of impending doom to the stark landscape. In the camp area, Koenig sipped his coffee, no nearer any kind of solution to the problem of Alpha’s crippling dilemma. Alan Carter, knowing his mood, said diffidently, ‘We’re running out of time, Commander. We’ve got to get back to Alpha.’
There was no reply. Helena Russell handed the pilot a beaker of coffee. He said, ‘Thanks Doctor,’ and continued to look at Koenig. When he got an answer it was on a different tack.
‘We could bring life to this planet. The question is how long would it take to rejuvenate the soil? What do you think, Helena?’
‘At least two years to establish crops.’
‘So it’s a straight calculation. If we evacuated Alpha, brought our people down here . . . how long have we got on the rations we could bring?’
‘Over three hundred people . . . six months at the outside.’
‘Six months.’
Victor Bergman showed the other side of the coin, ‘With no power, Alpha will freeze to death in less than one day.’
‘So it’s a suicide run either way. But at least, here, we’d be buying a little time.’
Alan Carter said, ‘Not a lot.’
For Koenig, the Issues were crystal clear. He had no choice. He had to go for the better chance. He threw the dregs of his coffee on the ground. ‘That is so. But time enough to hope for a miracle.’
Packing the last of the gear in the cave, Luke Ferro and Anna Davis were rushing to get away. More than any of the Alphans the atmosphere of the place had seized on their minds.
Luke Ferro, lifting a pack to the table, suddenly staggered and put both hands to his head. Anna, indifference to him long gone, dropped what she was doing and ran to him.