The Rings of Tantalus [Expendables 2]

by Richard Avery

  “Decision noted.”

  She looked down at Pushkin. With an effort, he focussed on her face.

  “You are Alexei Pushkin,” she said quietly, “and there is no need for anxiety. You are with friends and you are being looked after expertly. You have just emerged from suspended animation. You are in the star-ship Santa Maria, which has touched down safely on the planet Tantalus. You are the engineer in a team of Expendables whose task is to prove Tantalus fit for human colonisation. The team consists of seven men and women, and six robots. Do you wish to ask any questions?”

  He was silent for a while, making a great effort to concentrate. Finally he said: “Who betrayed me?”

  Lieutenant Smith gazed at him intently. “What was there to betray?”

  He gave a dreadful laugh. “Do you think I am entirely stupid.” Then he fainted. The pulse became weak.

  Lieutenant Smith said: “I will use adrenalin.” Matthew was already filling the hypodermic syringe.

  “Decision noted,” he said with what seemed the merest hint of sarcasm.

  Lieutenant Smith attended to her patient.

  Meanwhile, Conrad and Khelad were on the nav deck, sitting gazing at the screens hooked in to the external vid cameras. Occasionally one or other of them got up, stretched, walked about, took a look through the observation panel.

  The two robots outside the vessel had already completed their one thousand metre search. They had discovered no large animal life-forms—which was not surprising. When the Santa Maria came roaring out of the sky, the shattering noise of its touch-down would have driven all intelligent life-forms away at a great rate of knots.

  Now, the robots had been instructed to construct a perimeter defence system at a radius of one hundred metres from the vessel. It consisted of steel net, supported by light angle-girders driven into the ground. The fence was to be linked by a step-up transformer to the Santa Maria’s generator. The fence would carry one thousand volts at low amperage. That would be sufficient power, thought Conrad, to discourage any but the most dedicated intruders.

  On the screens, he checked the progress of the robots. It looked as if they would have the fence complete before darkness fell.

  Khelad was pacing up and down nervously. Eventually he spoke: “Commander, I am not your saboteur. I cannot prove it, but it is so. I, too, want Tantalus for mankind. You must believe me.”

  Conrad did not take his gaze from the screens. Khelad’s voice sounded very tight, he noted. That was good. Stress might make him careless.

  “Ahmed, I am very glad that you say—with apparent conviction—that you are not a saboteur and that you want to prove Tantalus. Alas, it is my duty neither to believe you nor disbelieve you. You understand my position?”

  “I do, sir.”

  “Good. Maybe we shall find the saboteur, maybe not. Maybe there is no saboteur. But, for the time being, all of the new recruits remain suspect.”

  “That is clearly necessary,” conceded Khelad. “But as I am aware of my own innocence, I am in a better position than you, Commander. I can narrow the suspects down to two.”

  Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Three, surely? Assuming, of course, your own innocence.”

  “No, two. I have been thinking very carefully about Ruth Zonis. She had done her best to “provoke me. If she were the saboteur, she would not do that. She would not wish to call attention to herself. Does that seem reasonable?”

  “It does, Ahmed.” He sighed. “But it is equally possible that the pair of you may be interested in creating a diversion.”

  Khelad looked startled. “What do you mean by that— sir?”

  “You work it out. Meanwhile, take a spell at the screens while I stretch my legs.”

  Khelad took over. Conrad got up from his chair, rubbed the back of his neck and yawned.

  After a time, Khelad said: “When will we be going through the air-lock, Commander?”

  “When Kwango has evaluated the lab reports and presented his findings… Tomorrow morning, I imagine.”

  “Do you have any theory about the rings, sir?”

  Conrad shrugged. “None worth mentioning… But Kwango will have. That black bastard is our very own self-appointed think-tank. His arrogance, fortunately for him, is backed up by a high I.Q.”

  Khelad seemed surprised. “I did not think you would have any racial prejudice.”

  “Oh, but I have. I don’t like Negroes, Arabs, Israelis, Americans, Russians. I don’t even much care for the British. I have a very strong racial prejudice. It is in favour of the human race. Remember that.”

  Suddenly, Khelad shouted. “Look!”

  Conrad whirled to face the screens. But he was too late.

  “What did you see?”

  “North camera. For a moment only. Range possibly two hundred metres. It was ape-like, humanoid—I don’t know. But it had a prehensile tail.’

  Conrad gazed intently at the screens, but saw only the robots working methodically on the perimeter fence. The sky was blue, the sun was low. In the distance there were a few birds.

  “How do you know it had a prehensile tail?”

  “Because it was arched over the creature’s head.” Khelad’s voice sounded almost hysterical. “Also, the tail seemed to have something like a hand on the end of it.”

  “It isn’t there now.”

  Khelad pulled himself together, and looked somewhat embarrassed. “No, Commander, it isn’t there now.”

  Phase Three THE KWANGO SCENARIO

  Conrad and Khelad watched the screens carefully while the light remained; but there was no further sign of the ape-like creature. If indeed it existed. Perhaps Khelad’s suspiciously brief sighting was itself a diversionary tactic.

  The robot Mark was ordered to set up a rotating searchlight, while Luke took over on the nav deck for the long and monotonous night watch.

  Conrad gave him precise instructions. “You will monitor all four screens. If any animal life-forms are revealed by the search-light you will simultaneously lock the light on target and record the sequence on videotape. If any such life-form is significantly large—defined as being at least one metre in height or one metre in length—you will signal my cabin. If any such life-form is observed in significant numbers—defined as any number greater than ten—you will signal general alarm. If Ahmed Khelad, Ruth Zonis or Lisa Uhlmann come to the navigation deck not escorted by me, or Lieutenant Smith or Kurt Kwango, you will also signal general alarm and you will restrain the intruder without injury until I arrive.”

  “Decisions noted, Commander. Execution proceeds.”

  That evening after dinner, Conrad asked Kwango to come to his cabin.

  “Well, Kurt, give me the news… Would you like a drink?”

  “It’s real kind of de Massa Boss to drink wid dis pore black sinner. I sure could use a drop of de white ladies’ ruin.”

  Conrad sighed. “Kurt, you really press your luck with this Uncle Tom stuff. One of these days, before I have time to realise I’m losing a good ecologist, I’ll spread your brains all over the bulkhead.”

  Kwango took his drink and was instantly apologetic. “Sorry, Commander. It’s stupid and I’m trying to kick it… High I.Q., low sense of humour… Compensation, or something like that.”

  “It figures,” said Conrad. He took a swig of his own whiskey. “Now get sensible.”

  “The news is nothing but good. Zonis and Uhlmann have worked themselves into the deck analysing the samples. They have given me a lot of useful data; and, of course, when we are allowed outside, I’ll have a lot more. Do you want to go through the data with me, or should I just boil it down.”

  “Boil it down. It’s been a tiring day.”

  “O.K., Boss. It looks as though the biosphere of Tantalus is a natural paradise. The air is slightly richer in oxygen, and there is not the slightest trace of the Earth-type pollutants. Nobody has been fucking this planet about —and that’s for sure. The soil samples are a farmer’s dream—black prairie soil,
rich in organic matter, non-saline, highly productive. We should be able to plough it up, toss in Earth seeds and jump back quickly so we won’t get hit when the crop shoots up.” Kwango gave a grim smile. “Be a long time before even greedy Earth men can turn this place into a dust-bowl. To sum up, it’s as near as dammit like the temperate and semi-tropical regions of Earth about a hundred thousand years before some fool Terran discovered the use of fire.”

  “In short, the jackpot?”

  “In short, the jackpot.”

  “Except, perhaps, for the rings.”

  “Except, perhaps, for the rings,” agreed Kwango. “But I’m not worrying too much. I have my theories about those rings… We had it rough on Kratos, Commander, but we licked the death worms.”

  Conrad gave a faint smile. “What you really meant to say was that you licked the death worms.”

  “With some slight assistance,” said Kwango generously.

  “Your kamikaze attack on the queen provided some useful data.”

  Conrad ignored the provocation. “Tell me the Kwango explanation of the riddle of the rings.”

  Kwango looked pained. “Boss, it’s only a first scenario. I don’t like to commit myself until I have some more data.”

  “Commit yourself, Kurt. That is an order.”

  Kwango sighed. “You are a hard man to work for, Commander.”

  “I know. Spill.”

  “Well, they are not the work of intelligent indigenes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there ain’t no intelligent indigenes. Or if there were, they have all gone under the hill.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Orbital survey. No trace of nuclear power, no radio signals, no sign of electric power, no internal combustion engines, not even a puff of smoke from de ole steam engine. So, given the facts that we have one large moth-eaten derelict space vessel in eccentric orbit and that we also have a mute enigmatic ring system on Tantalus, the first Kwango scenario goes as follows: the space vessel brought an alien and intelligent life-form to Tantalus— probably for reasons similar to ours.

  “Surprise, surprise! They found somebody had got here before them. The rings have to have a function. If they were the work of indigenes, there would probably be other systems all over the planet. So they were built by exploration group one for some as yet unknown reason.”

  “If they were built by natives,” said Conrad, “they wouldn’t necessarily have to be all over the planet. Take Earth. There’s only one set of pyramids.”

  “Yes,” countered Kwango, “but there are other types of monument to human stupidity. Here on Tantalus, there is nothing but the ring system… So the first Kwango scenario maintains that group one didn’t give the big hello when group two arrived. Chances are, they blasted the starship before any of its crew could drop dirtside. What we have we hold, and all that crap. Not very nice people.”

  “So where are the descendants of group one?” demanded Conrad.

  “I don’t know, Boss,” said Kwango weakly. “Maybe the star-ship took them out while it was getting hammered… I need more data.”

  “You also need your head examined. The odds against two groups from different parts of the galaxy, presumably, hitting on this particular planet at the same time are greater than the odds against a monkey being able to pound out the U.N. Charter by randomly hitting typewriter keys.”

  “We got to Tantalus,” Kwango pointed out.

  Before Conrad could reply, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.”

  It was Lieutenant Smith.

  “I thought you were supervising the others,” said Conrad somewhat coldly.

  “I don’t need to any more. It’s late and I doped their drinks.” She smiled. “They will have a very good night’s sleep.”

  “I hope they won’t be bloody sleepy in the morning.”

  “No problem. Pep shots in the coffee… Talking of drinks…”

  “Help yourself,” said Conrad.

  Indira got her drink and sipped it gratefully. It was nice to be able to drink out of a glass once more instead of squeezing the fluid into your mouth from one of those dreadful bulbs.

  “How is Pushkin?”

  “Fit and well. I’ll give him a thorough check-over tomorrow.”

  “Did he utter anything of interest?”

  “He did. When he was just coming out of S.A. he said: Tell them I’ll do it. Tell them I want to do it.’ Then he passed out. Later, after I had given him basic orientation he asked: ‘Who betrayed me?’ I asked him what there was to betray. After that he laughed and said: ‘Do you think I am entirely stupid.’ Then he passed out again. I gave him a shot of adrenalin because his heartbeat was not so good. When he came back to consciousness, he was perfectly rational. He knew who he was, he knew who I was, and he knew why we were on Tantalus. He did not seem to be aware of his previous utterances. I judged it wise not to remind him… He has had his first meal—a huge one— and is now sleeping like a baby. He will be fit for light duties tomorrow and normal duty in a couple of days.”

  There was a brief silence, then Kwango said: “This boy Alexei begins to sound interesting.”

  Conrad turned to Indira. “What is your opinion?”

  She shrugged. “People say strange things when they come out of S.A… It could relate to this situation, or it could relate to the murder of his wife, or some other situation we don’t know about.”

  Conrad yawned. “I’ll talk to him alone tomorrow. There are a lot of bloody things to do tomorrow. I’m going to get the chopper out and take a look at the rings. You, Kurt, will take the hover car and explore within a radius of ten kilometres, keeping your eyes open for Khelad’s apelike creature. And you, Indira, will have the hardest task. I want you to stay here and keep an eye on the four. You can let them out two at a time, accompanied by robots. I think Zonis and Uhlmann should be the first out. Let them go and get more samples. If you want to keep Pushkin occupied, let him inspect the exo-skeletons. If you can spare a robot, Pushkin might begin assembling two or three. I have no doubt we shall need to use them pretty soon… Yes, tomorrow is going to be a very full day.”

  “What about Khelad?” asked Indira.

  “Ah, yes, Khelad. Keep him monitoring the screen as long as seems reasonable. He is a very intriguing fellow, is our Ahmed. He is trying very hard to be liked.”

  “Do you think he really saw that creature?” asked Kwango.

  “No way of knowing. Ahmed is a clever lad with a fine sense of timing.”

  Kwango finished his second drink. “Boss, you make a mistake. You told our new friends that the robots had been reprogrammed for homicide, if necessary. You know it can’t be done, I know it can’t be done. Pretty soon they are going to catch on.”

  “So they are,” said Conrad tranquilly. “They were given the basic course in robotics before they joined us.”

  “Then why the hell did you make the statement?” said Indira. “The saboteur—if there is one—is going to think you are pretty damn stupid.”

  “Harsh words,” said Conrad. He swirled his whiskey round in the glass and sniffed at it appreciatively. “If somebody wants to have a go at us, the robots will kill without hesitation. Matthew has override circuits. I have explained the situation to him. I have told him that, in a crisis situation, the life-function can be interrupted—just as, for example, it is interrupted in S.A. The robot concerned should strike at the heart and on no account must there be any brain damage. Matthew knows that we have bio-hearts and electro-mechanical hearts in store. I assured him that interruption of function would only be temporary… It is the old double-bluff with variation on a theme.”

  “I still don’t like it,” said Indira.

  “Lieutenant, I did not ask you to like it,” snapped Conrad. “Long ago, I learned that if you wish to survive, you fight fire with fire. Now let’s all get some sleep.”

  Phase Four HEADS YOU WIN, TAILS YOU LOSE

  Conrad
was up before daybreak. Automatically, he checked the security of the Santa Maria. John, Peter and Paul were at their guard posts in the sensitive areas. They had received no visitors. The night had passed without incident.

  On the nav deck, Matthew stared impassively at the screens.

  “Anything to report, Matthew?” It was a stupid question. The robot had his instructions. He would have called Conrad if there had been anything.

  “Nothing of significance, sir. A number of small creatures resembling the terrestrial bat appeared at dusk and again just before daybreak. Their numbers were not at any time critical.”

  “Good. Have Peter bring me coffee and a bacon sandwich. I’ll take it here.”

  “Decision noted, sir. Execution proceeds. Request precise definition of terms, also quantity required.”

  “Dammit, Matthew! You know how I take my coffee and bacon.”

  “Previous data has been variable, Commander. Of the two hundred and ninety-three times you required coffee on Kratos, on one hundred and seventy-three occasions you ordered—”

  “Cancel statement,” said Conrad wearily. “You are a bloody ass—no, cancel that statement also… Definition follows: coffee, one half litre, hot, strong, black, sweet. Bacon, smoked, two twenty-five centimetre rashers grilled, crisp. Bread, slices, one, white. Definition adequate?”

  “Definition adequate,” said Matthew with just a hint of robotic humour. “Delivery time estimated at six point five minutes S.E.T. plus or minus three percent from now.”

  “I will take it over here,” said Conrad. “I’ll watch the screens while I am having my breakfast. I want the chopper and hovercar out of the hold and lowered dirtside. They will be used about two hours from now. During that time you and such of your merry band—Mark and Luke, I think—as are not on security duty will check engines, fuel, controls, every vital component. Execute!”

  “Decisions noted, sir. Execution proceeds. Is the Commander aware that such inspections were carried out in Earth orbit and also in Tantalus orbit?”

  “The Commander is aware,” retorted Conrad, “and intends to stay that way. Call Lieutenant Smith to the nav deck at her earliest convenience. Do not designate emergency.”