New Writings in SF 25 - [Anthology]

by Edited By Kenneth Bulmer

‘It can’t be that! They were never outside the ship, so they couldn’t have been in contact with anything.’

  ‘No one was outside—as far as we know. But something might have entered the ship.’

  Salmet’s coarsely handsome features screwed up. ‘Possibly. Could their condition be psychological?’

  ‘Ties broken with Earth, away from the womb, that sort of thing?’

  Salmet nodded and Hallett answered: ‘It could be. I’m going to try and question Armour, although I’ll have to be very careful. Once or twice I caught him looking at me as if he had never seen me before. And it won’t have escaped your notice that the three men didn’t contract whatever it is they have at the same time.’

  ‘As if something were spreading. Yes. Zass has been in touch with me. I’ve instructed him to say that the ship is under quarantine and that the crew will be undergoing the normal medical and other examinations. That should hold them off. After all, the first men to return from the Moon back in 1969 were incommunicado for three weeks.’

  ‘Not quite. At least people could see them and news reporters were allowed to speak to them.’

  ‘We can’t help that,’ Salmet said, snappishly. ‘It’s in your hands, now, Neil. I’ll be available at any time for consultation.’

  Hallett had one more try. ‘Can’t we even release some of the ship’s film, to keep them happy?’

  ‘Not until I’ve personally seen every foot of it, we can’t. There might be something on that film to help us, to help you. I’m sending a special courier to Tsiolkovsky to pick up the ship’s log, computer tapes and the film record. He’ll let you know when he arrives and you can send the stuff to him, suitably sealed up.’

  Hallett returned to the captain’s cabin.

  ‘He’s fallen asleep,’ Udet said.

  Armour seemed to be sleeping. He wasn’t, apparently, in a coma like the others. That postponed Hallett’s questions and gave him the opportunity to examine the ship’s log and also the film record. The medical team would be arriving soon, so he’d have to be quick.

  There were actually two logs, one oral, the other written. The former was coupled to the computer and he didn’t have the knowledge or the skill to get it to give him the essential information. He started to read the log, pushing to the back of his mind the fact that the incidents related covered years on his Earth-bound time scale. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him. There was nothing of significance until Day 13. Something had happened to one of the star sensors and Soo had gone outside the ship to repair it.

  The entry brought to the surface of his mind a dread that had lain submerged like a trapped mine, from the moment the captain’s message had come in. Soo had been outside. In interstellar space. Why? Surely there were backup sensors? He checked the log. There was nothing to indicate why Soo had had to go outside. Perhaps there was something on the film record.

  One of the automatic cameras had recorded Soo’s historic and frightening excursion. Occasionally, the film looked faintly blurred. But to Hallett’s untrained eye, that meant nothing and everything seemed normal. Shutting off the projector, he continued to read the log. During the medical examination of Day 15, Breguet had reported that Khvalis was complaining of headaches and lethargy. As the days went by, the medical reports became more detailed, but the full transcripts were in the computer. On Day 24, Khvalis had gone into a coma and from then was fed intravenously. Soo began to complain on Day 25 and by Day 35 was in coma. On Day 37, Breguet became the next victim; the coma state came on Day 43.

  And now Armour had it. Hallett was sure of that and doubly relieved that he and Udet had kept their suits on, irksome as it was. The communicator beeped and he opened the channel.

  ‘Medical team ready to come aboard, Doctor Hallett. I’m O’Higgins, in charge. And we have a courier from M. Salmet along with us.’

  ‘Fine, doctor. Please warn your men that they must keep suited up at all times. Check for leaks before boarding.’

  ‘Understood. See you in five minutes.’

  Hallett closed the log and put it away in the special drawer and locked it. Appearances had to be kept up. Udet returned. He’d been prowling about the ship.

  ‘I can’t see anything wrong,’ he announced, sounding aggrieved.

  ‘Soo was outside the ship,’ Hallett told him, going on to relate what was in the log. They went to the airlock. Five people entered the starship. O’Higgins introduced himself, as did the courier, who showed his credentials from Salmet. Udet escorted the medical team members to the common room, while Hallett took O’Higgins and the courier to the bridge. The ship’s log, computer tapes and film record were verified, signed for and passed over.

  ‘Could you ask M. Salmet to let me have a transcript of all the medical details right away, please?’

  ‘If you want to get clearance from here, the computer could be coupled to the one on Tsiolkovsky.’

  ‘Thanks. That would save time.’ Hallett spoke to Salmet, who said he’d arrange it.

  Hallett related all that he’d found out, or suspected, to O’Higgins, who was a Chilean from Valparaiso. Together, they went to examine the crew members. Udet met them just outside the bridge. One of the medical team was with him.

  ‘Let’s go back inside. We’re in trouble.’ He pushed the team member ahead of him.

  ‘Wait a minute. You’re not-’

  O’Higgins got no further.

  ‘No, I’m not Nurse Calder. I’m Serita Gordon of World News—the reporter roughed up by the police. And I’ve heard everything you told Doctor O’Higgins, so you can’t send me away. That space station is lop-sided with reporters.’

  Hallett looked helplessly at Udet.

  ‘She said she had something to tell Doctor O’Higgins. How was I to know?’ He was somewhere between apology and apoplexy.

  ‘What happened to Nurse Calder?’ O’Higgins demanded.

  ‘About now, she should be leaving Tsiolkovsky, counting her credits. You people really should pay your nurses more.’

  ‘I’ll see she’s arrested!’ O’Higgins began to fume. .

  ‘Don’t be so bloody pompous,’ Serita cut in. ‘With the whole world looking in, that’s all you’d need. All I want is an exclusive.’

  ‘You must want it very badly,’ Hallett said, bitterly. ‘Anyway, you’re here, so do as you’re told and don’t interfere.”

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy listening and recording.’ She produced a small recorder with camera attachment.

  ‘At least we can stop that,’ Udet said, piqued at being duped, and struck the equipment from her hand.

  She merely smiled as Udet picked up the recorder. ‘Suit yourself. I have a very good memory.’

  ‘Give her back the contraption, Franz. It doesn’t make any difference, now. No one’s going anywhere for a while.’

  ‘Thanks, Doctor Hallett. You’re a gent.’ The camera whirred as she spoke.

  ‘Don’t bank on it,’ Hallett said, grimly. ‘Just remember: don’t get in the way.’

  The computer began to give print-outs. The doctors read them while Udet sat grumpily in a corner and Serita kept clear and recorded all that went on.

  Hallett looked up. ‘Doctor O’Higgins and I have medical matters to discuss. They’d bore you and your audience. Mr. Udet will escort you to the common room.’

  She contemplated protesting. However, he could be very severe with her. Casually, she laid down the recorder, still switched on, and started to precede the security man.

  ‘You’d better take that with you. Miss Gordon,’ Hallett reminded her.

  ‘It was worth trying,’ she said, lifting the recorder and going out.

  Udet was back almost immediately. ‘The captain! He’s going berserk!’

  * * * *

  In the low gravity of the ship it seemed to take them an age to reach the cabin. The two medical team members were holding Armour down on the cot, where he was struggling and making mewing noises that made the hearers shiver. His p
upils were enormous; but as he watched Hallett saw them contract rapidly until they became tiny hard dots. Hallett took his pulse. It was normal.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked Udet.

  ‘We’d just entered the common room when the captain burst in and attacked Miss Gordon.’

  Hallett turned to her. ‘Are you all right?’

  She was slumped in a seat. ‘It was horrible. Those noises. But, yes I’m all right now.’

  Encased as she was in the suit, it was difficult to gauge her expression; but she sounded shaken.

  ‘No damage to your suit?’

  She rose hurriedly. ‘I didn’t think to check-’

  Her voice quivered. She was scared again. She’s human, after all, Hallett found himself thinking.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Udet volunteered.

  ‘Keep a close watch on the captain,’ Hallett instructed Mitchell, one of the medical team. The man was obviously none too happy with his assignment.

  Hallett and O’Higgins again examined the remaining crew members. Two, Breguet and Soo, were still in coma. Khvalis was dead. He had gone a curious grey colour and his skin, formerly smooth and unblemished, had shrivelled.

  ‘Come with me, Back to the bridge,’ Hallett said. ‘I’m going to ask Salmet to arrange a post-mortem on Khvalis. He can get the top men to Tsiolkovsky in no time.’

  ‘That won’t exactly allay suspicion,’ O’Higgins commented, as Hallett made the connection.

  ‘Suspicion be damned! This isn’t merely a case of four men returning from the stars with a mystery illness that has killed one of them, and is likely to kill the rest. The whole Earth, the bases on the planets, could be in mortal danger. M. Salmet. Hallett. Khvalis is dead. I want a postmortem, as soon as you can arrange it, aboard the ship. This could be our only chance to save Armour and to find out what has happened to the crew.’

  ‘I’ve had the world’s top medical experts on stand-by, here, on the Moon, so that’s taken care of. The complete medical data from the tapes will be coming through to you any time now. The film is undergoing minute inspection and analysis to see if we can bring anything up, but they’re not having any success so far. We’re managing to keep the wolves at bay, but not for much longer.’

  Hallett cringed at the thought of what Salmet would say if he knew that there was already a wolf—a wolverine— aboard.

  ‘When the news gets around that specialists are on the way, we’ll have to tell them something.’

  ‘Why not some of the truth, as we know it? Tell them Khvalis is dead, cause unknown, and give them the usual pabulum about no danger and so on. It should hold them for a while.’

  Salmet sighed. ‘I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as that. Out.’

  Hallett was beginning to find the suit irritating, but he dare not remove it. Whatever had killed Khvalis was still on the ship. Apparently it travelled from host to host, doing something to them that led, eventually, to death. Soo and Breguet wouldn’t last much longer.

  The computer began to chatter again and he and O’Higgins began to read the print-out.

  ‘Lethargy, sleepiness, forgetfulness, loss of co-ordination, disorientation—it sounds as if they had about ten diseases simultaneously. We need that pm more than ever,’ Hallett said.

  The communicator beeped.

  ‘Franz here. Soo is dead. Breguet seems about the same. And the captain is quiet.’

  ‘Thanks. How is Miss Gordon, now?’

  ‘Recovered. She’s busy taking photographs and making notes on the background story. And she says she’s hungry.’

  ‘She’ll just have to stay that way.’

  The doctors finished reading the print-outs. There wasn’t as much information as they’d expected or hoped for. There were gaps. Even with all the available evidence before them, they were unable to isolate the cause of the crew’s illness. They went to the common room.

  Serita Gordon said, ‘Can I ask you some questions, Doctor Hallett?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She started the recorder. ‘Do you think that the deaths here might be due to some psychological factor? The effect of having travelled so far from Earth, loss of contact with humanity, and all that?’

  ‘At this stage, I can’t say. They trained for three years as a team for the flight and were given every sort of test the most competent psychologists in the world could devise.’

  ‘But nothing could duplicate the real thing.’

  He didn’t try to be evasive. ‘We seem to have evidence here that you are right.’

  He turned to the other member of the medical team. ‘Could you relieve Mitchell, please. I’m going back to the bridge, if anyone wants me.’

  He happened to be looking at Miss Gordon when he said that and she smiled at him in such a way as to make him flush.

  The m.t. member said, ‘The door’s locked!’

  Hallett rushed out into the corridor and tried the other door. It swung open and he pushed it wide and looked into the room. The captain was sprawled on the floor, clutching a space helmet. The m.t. man, Mitchell, was gone. Udet came from behind Hallett and helped him to turn the body over. Armour was dead, his skin wrinkled and convoluted like the surface of a walnut.

  ‘Go and look at Breguet, Franz. Be careful.’

  The security man went out through the common room and came back immediately. ‘He’s dead.’

  Unexpectedly, Serita Gordon crossed herself. There was no coquetry in her expression, now.

  ‘Everyone to the bridge, at once,’ Hallett ordered.

  As they entered O’Higgins began to say: ‘The team-’

  Hallett cut him off. ‘Armour and Breguet are dead. And Mitchell is loose on the ship—without his helmet.’

  ‘The specialists will be here in a few minutes. Now they’ll have a body each.’

  Hallett was too busy bringing Salmet up to date to notice the remark. The reporter asked of no one in particular, ‘What are we up against?’

  O’Higgins said, ‘A virus of some sort, that passes from host to host, leaving death behind it. I’m wondering if that necessarily implies that, in order to survive, it will have to leave Mitchell, or can it exist without a host?’

  Hallett’s talk with Salmet had been brief and he said, ‘I think it can. It seems certain that it attached itself to Soo’s suit during his spacewalk and then entered Khvalis’ body when Soo was back aboard ship.’

  ‘Life can’t exist out there, surely?’ Serita said, gesturing vaguely at the void beyond the hull.

  ‘On the contrary,’ Hallett contradicted her, ‘there are quite a few sophisticated molecules adrift in interstellar space. So, whatever got the captain and the crew doesn’t really need a host. But it has evidently grown to like them.’

  Serita paced about. ‘It’s horrible—waiting somewhere in the ship.’

  ‘It’ll use up Mitchell soon enough,’ Hallett said, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘While it’s in Mitchell, we know where it is. When he dies, it will be free in the air-’

  ‘Perhaps the air will kill it,’ Serita said hopefully.

  ‘That’s straight out of The War of the Worlds, Miss Gordon,’ he replied, trying to let her down as gently as possible. ‘If it can survive anything hard radiation can do to it, then I doubt if air would harm it.’

  A warning light on the panel showed that someone was at the airlock, awaiting admission.

  ‘Franz: come with me to let the specialists aboard, and watch that we don’t get jumped by Mitchell. The rest of you stay here and—melodramatic as it sounds—lock the bridge door and open it only when you hear two knocks, followed by one, then two more.’

  They went out.

  * * * *

  In a spare locker, somewhere in the vast ship, Mitchell sat on the floor, with his back to the wall. He wasn’t in pain. But something frightening was happening to his mind. He was trying to puzzle out what had happened to him and was still happening to him. His thoughts were random and disjointed. He had to stop and force hi
mself to think where he was. In a spares locker room. Yes. What was that ... ? He was—who was he? Mitchell. I—AM—MITCHELL. Hold on to that. Identity was vital. Where was the ... room. He couldn’t remember that other word. No matter. Where was it? Images jumbled through his mind, like garbage being flushed down a drain. Sh—Ship ? Yes, ship. Who am I ? I am —I am—Great Christ in space! Who am I? My memory is like a fog. Something swirls into view, half-seen, then it’s gone. He began to shake with panic. Must get out of ... whatever it is. He stared around him. What was that bright ... anyway, it hurt his eyes. Eyes. Get out. The storage racks, the floor, the ceiling, the door: all were grotesquely distorted and he recognised nothing. He stood up and took a hesitant pace, then stopped. Nothing meant anything anymore. Suddenly, panic stripped away the last vestiges of reason and he started to charge about the locker room, knocking over racks, all the while screaming and mewing.