Space 1999 5 lunar att.., p.8
Space 1999 #5 - Lunar Attack, page 8
Koenig stood up, rounded the desk. ‘I just can’t get it out of my mind. Life after death, okay, maybe it exists, maybe not. But Mateo—haunted by his own ghost . . . before he even dies . . . What sense can we make of that?’
‘Life and death, John. On earth, or even out here in space . . . they’re still the big mysteries . . . the greatest mystery.’
He looked at her. There was, after all, another side to the coin. Death was a mystery they would all have to face. But separately. It was the ultimate in privacy. But not yet. Just now, there were considerable collaterals to living. Like the way her hair touched the smooth line of her cheek and the candid open look of her eyes.
Rightly considered, he was as lucky as any man had any right to be. He leaned over the back of her chair and touched the side of her neck with his mouth.
It was a tribute to medical skill too. Another cure for the archives. Natural optimism took a surge.
CHAPTER FIVE
If Koenig could have ranged out beyond the limit of Moonbase Alpha’s probing scanners, he might or might not have believed that optimism was a right and proper attitude for his computer too. The small solar system that was nudging into the outer limit of their scan, had many of the characteristics that Victor Bergman would rate as A-Okay.
If the probe could have gone deeper and run a surface take of the planet Betha, it would have found an architectural style that would have had Gropius stirring in his vault. Ordered, seemly, melding in form, colour and material with the bland, pleasing surface, it was advanced Earth style, but carried through on a big scale with no areas where a camera could not look.
In a control centre, topped by a sophisticated radio telescope, a young woman was looking up at the sky in the quarter where the hobo Moon would show.
The room she was in showed a nice balance of comfort and good taste. Décor was predominantly in soft, warm colours, wheat, oatmeal, brown, rust. Even the hardware was unobtrusive, with monitor screens set in low consoles and bowls of fresh flowers set on top.
Slim and elegant, in a deceptively simple looking dress, dark hair framing a regular, intelligent face, her name was Dione and she moved about her ivory tower with casual grace. Coming to rest in front of the radar screens, she sat elegantly on a low settee and gave them the benefit of a shrewd look from large kohl-rimmed eyes.
On one screen, a scanning beam was bringing up a bright blip with each sweep. The other screen was blank. She pressed switches recessed in the arm of the settee and the radar scan changed to a starmap with a small, shabby asteroid ploughing a lonely furrow.
The blank screen chimed softly like distant temple bells and a man’s face appeared. It wasted no time on courtly formalities and said its piece. ‘Dione, this rogue moon which approaches us will be in a perfect position for a pre-emptive strike in twenty-four hours’ time.’
‘Good. Thank you.’
Although it carried all the harmonics of a very feminine woman, there was no doubting the authority in her voice. The face dissolved, leaving the monitor once more blank and Dione selected another stud on the arm of her settee. The size of the approaching asteroid doubled and continued to grow until it filled the screen. The craters and plains of Earth’s wandering Moon were clear to see. It was no cosmic bonus, but to Dione it was obviously as welcome as a gold brick. Leaning forward to savour it, she said, ‘We have waited a long time for this.’
Moonbase Alpha’s scanners finally had the picture and a full count of senior personnel converged on Main Mission to check it out.
Sandra’s delicate fingers whipped around her console and the big screen had it clear. A distant sun glowed on the starmap like a jewel on a velvet pad.
Bergman, intense and concentrating called, ‘Magnification please, Sandra.’
Pressing switches, she said, ‘You have it. Times one thousand.’
The distant sun jumped closer and now two smaller features could be seen. Spaced either side on a diameter line, there were two attendant spheres.
Koenig said, ‘Two planets.’
Bergman, not committing himself, said, ‘Interesting.’
Swinging round from the computer spread, Kano filled in, ‘We’ll be in range for a survey in twenty-four hours.’
More cautious encouragement came from Sandra, ‘Still too far for visual analysis; but spectrographic survey looks good.’
Close to Koenig, Helena Russell said, Two planets. It would be great to have a choice.’
In her distant control tower, Dione was playing 3-D solitaire and looked up, with a piece poised for positioning, as the temple bell chime heralded another transmission. It was the same face, looking triumphant, ‘Latest data confirms. The asteroid will be in an ideal position in seven units universal time.’
‘Perfect. I want Satazius programmed for immediate launch.’
Coolly, she played the piece in her hand and then moved to a panoramic window spread. Below, the doors of a vast underground bunker were already rolling open. An immense space craft jacked itself up and out to the pad, dwarfing the support vehicles that assembled round it.
Unhurriedly, Dione walked to an elevator shaft without a backward look at the room. Fifteen minutes later Satazius was lifting its huge bulk into the clear sky of Betha.
On Moonbase Alpha, Sandra’s urgent call had Koenig moving to stand at her console, ‘Commander, I have a spaceship approaching Alpha.’
‘Put it on the screen.’
It was there, a tiny arrowing speck coming out of the sun.
‘Magnification.’
All eyes were on the big screen as Sandra brought it closer in a series of jumps.
Even at the distance, it looked huge and menacing. Koenig, a glutton for punishment, said sharply, ‘Closer.’
She gave it the full treatment and it filled the screen, looming over Main Mission like a vast angel of death.
Koenig hardly paused. ‘Red Alert! Alan, every Eagle to launch pads. Paul, activate defensive screens.’
Moonbase Alpha reacted like a disturbed hive. Iron tongued klaxons blared in the sections. Red lights flashed in every communications post. Personnel moved to stations at a run.
The gargantuan spacer was hurling itself at the battered Moon.
Koenig thought bitterly that against it their defences were just so many paper chains.
Moonbase Alpha slipped into high gear. Watching from the Command office, Koenig was satisfied that all hands were as ready as they would ever be. Non-essential personnel were moving underground into the prepared bunkers. Travel tubes raced to feed the Eagles with space-suited crews. The pylon screens on the perimeter of the site glowed crimson at full power.
He saw the Eagles trundle forward to their launch pads and left his office for Main Mission.
Paul Morrow met him at the foot of the steps. ‘I’ve tried all frequencies. Still no contact.’
Koenig nodded. The war machine that was hurling itself on Alpha had no need to announce its intentions. He turned to Carter, ‘Alan I want every serviceable Eagle airborne.’
‘The last flight’s moving to launch pads now, Commander. I’m on my way.’
As he passed, they exchanged looks. At the hatch, Carter turned round for another look at the big screen. The giant spacer was coming in like a falling cliff.
Koenig said, ‘Keep spread out. Synchronise and go in together. As soon as you have range, every Eagle fires simultaneously. Against that it’s the only hope.’
Both knew how slim a chance it was. Alan Carter said, ‘Yes, Commander,’ and was away.
The whole exercise was moving too fast for Victor Bergman and he voiced his disquiet, ‘Shoot first and ask questions after—this is not your style, John.’
‘We’ve been trying to ask questions. They don’t answer. Look at the size of it. It either contains an army or a fire power that could blast Alpha out of existence at one blow. You don’t need a ship that size to send a messenger or an ambassador of goodwill. No, Victor, its purpose has got to be aggressive.’
‘If it isn’t now, it soon will be if we start target practice on it.’
The same idea had crossed Koenig’s mind and had been discounted. For once he was impatient with his scientific adviser, ‘Are you prepared to wait and find out? I can’t risk it.’
Bergman looked at him and then at the screen. There was no easy answer.
Pilots were calling in completion of pre-flight checks and Paul Morrow was gathering the responses for onward transmission to Eagle Leader.
‘Eagle Five ready for lift off.’
‘Eagle Five hold.’
‘Eagle Two ready for lift off.’
‘Eagle Two hold.’
Carter himself came up on the net. ‘Eagle One hold,’ Morrow checked his list, ‘That’s your lot, Alan. All Eagles ready to go.’
‘Thanks, Paul,’—Carter shifted to the Eagle Command link and called all his pilots. ‘Eagle One to all Eagles. After lift off, centre on me above Beacon Four.’
Morrow gave the all clear, ‘Eagle One lift off.’
‘Copy.’
‘Eagle Two lift off.’
‘Copy.’
Watchers in Main Mission saw the flurries of moon dust as the motors delivered and then unexpectedly the turbulence subsided. Alan Carter, a puzzled man, was double checking his control gear. He called in to Morrow. ‘Eagle One to base. I have no lift off.’
Morrow said urgently, ‘Stand by. I’m taking you on remote.’
‘Copy.’
Morrow punched keys in sequence and Eagle One’s engines ignited. There was a short, savage blast and then the urge was gone and the Eagle settled back on her pad.
Carter’s voice was tight, ‘No go. All systems check. All dual systems check. All safety cut-outs functioning correctly.’
Morrow said, ‘Stand by, I’ll try again.’
Eagle Two called in, ‘Eagle Two to base. I have no liftoff.’
It was all bad news. Morrow said, ‘Base to Eagle Two. Wait in line. Stand by for controlled lift off.’ Koenig was behind Morrow’s chair wanting information, ‘What goes on, Paul?’
‘I can’t get them away.’
‘What’s wrong.’
Before Morrow could answer, Eagle Three was on the net. ‘Eagle Three to base, I have no lift off.’
‘Base to Eagle Three. Stand by for controlled lift off.’
Morrow punched out the sequence three times in a row. Engines fired, held for a beat and faded.
Monitor screens covered all launch pads and Koenig saw another flight with rocket tubes flaring.
He said, ‘That’s better. Let ’em go, Paul.’
There was nothing Paul Morrow wanted more, but even as he brought the pilots on the command net, the vermilion fire balls had shrank away and the Eagles were grounded.
Morrow turned to Koenig. His look was plain. There was nothing he or anyone could do to get the Eagles away in time to do any good.
Grim faced, Koenig turned to Kano, ‘What’s the computer breakdown on that ship?’
‘Coming through now, Commander,’—he tore off a feed out strip and was so long looking at it that Koenig said impatiently, ‘Well?’
It was not going to please anybody and was playing into the hands of anybody who reckoned the computer was a high speed idiot. Kano read off, ‘The gyromagnetic ratio has an anomolous factor two when applied to electron spin. The Landay g-factor expresses the . . . That’s all there is, Commander.’
It was no help and Kano looked ashamed for his friend. There was more trouble on the big screen. The picture of the huge spacer was distorted and out of focus. They were blind as well as powerless.
Koenig returned to Morrow’s Command console and heard Carter, voice edgy and disgusted, ‘Eagle One to Base. Still no joy. What’s happening there?’
Koenig said, ‘Alan, we’re getting unusual interference. It’s bugging all communication systems—’ There was a growing crackle of static and Carter, seen on his personal monitor, was obviously having difficulty with reception. Taking it slowly Koenig went on, ‘It’s probably some kind of ultrasonic or magnetic emission that’s finding a harmonic of our control patterns.’
Only just audible, Carter said, ‘Eagle One to base. I do not read you. Repeat I do not read you. Come In base,’
Morrow made a refined tuning ploy and momentarily Carter was loud and clear, ‘Eagle One to base. For god-sake get your fingers out. You must get us lift off. We’re running out of time.’ A rising tide of static drowned out the channel.
Bitterly, Koenig accepted it. He had no other line of defence. Whatever the spacer was aiming to do, they would have to sit tight and endure it. He called sharply to Sandra, ‘Are the screens holding?’
‘Commander, I’m losing contact. I don’t know. They were all running at max, but now the monitors have gone dead.’
‘Keep trying.’
Events were crowding him. Helena Russell hurried into Main Mission, ‘John, I’ve been trying to get through. I have equipment failure in the wards. Can I have emergency power?’
Even as she spoke, the lights in Main Mission dropped to a low, red glow. Koenig said, ‘Paul. Emergency power.’
‘Yes, Commander.’
It was better, but it was still sombre. Lighting stabilised at half the lumen count they were used to. Main Mission was eerily full of shadows.
Koenig tried to make it sound as though he believed there was a chance, ‘If there’s any change and you can get the Eagles away, do that.’
‘Yes, Commander.’
Not deceived, Helena Russell said quietly, ‘How much trouble are we in?’
‘You tell me.’
She looked from the monitors to the big screen. It was the same story. There was nothing to see. Koenig picked up a pair of binoculars and they both moved to a direct vision port.
Outside, the familiar moonscape was still as death. Victor Bergman joined them. It could have been any day in the long succession of days on Moonbase Alpha. The racing spacer was still out of direct sight.
Koenig said, ‘I wish I knew what was going on.’
‘What do you see?’
‘Nothing.’
Bergman had a magnetic board with small models and held it out. ‘At least before the computer packed in I was getting some useful information on that solar system.’
Intellectual curiosity was a fine thing, but more than half Koenig’s, attention was on the window. Helena did her best, but she kept looking away at Koenig.
Victor Bergman, undeterred, warmed to his exposition—‘It seems that the sun is similar in size and characteristics to our own. The two planets are slightly smaller than Earth and each revolves on its own axis once every twenty-five hours, giving, presumably, a slightly longer day and a slightly longer night.’ He shoved the models round the board with a lecturer’s simple pleasure and went on, ‘Each planet revolves around the sun once every ten months in an elliptical orbit. They are always on opposing sides of the sun in relation to each other. Their summers would be shorter than ours, likewise their winters.’
He looked up, at a time when neither of them happened to be looking at him, ‘I’m not boring you am I?’
Helena, being kinder or less honest, said quickly, ‘No, Victor, of course not. But I’m too scared to concentrate.’
‘Being scared makes me talk a lot and get very cheerful.’
‘Lyle’s syndrome. Lucky you!’
‘Where was I?’
‘You’d got on their winters. Shorter than ours, you said.’
‘Ah yes. Otherwise their climate promises to be very similar to our own. What you said earlier on may well be a possibility.’
‘That we might have a choice which planet to settle on?’
Koenig said, ‘I wouldn’t put any money on that.’ His tone had them both looking at him. He said, ‘Only look at that!’
The giant spacer had crossed the horizon. One thing was clear, even if the Eagles had got themselves off the ground, they would have been useless against it. Watching it, Koenig said, ‘It seems to be slowing.’
Bergman asked, ‘Do you think they aim to land?’
‘Could be.’
Koenig called Morrow, ‘Paul, do we have any communications systems working yet?’
‘Not a thing, Commander.’
‘Computer?’
Kano answered for his dumb beast, ‘Malfunction, Commander.’
The monitor screens and the main scanner were still snowed over with static.
He tried Sandra Benes, ‘Any change on the defence fields?’
‘All negative, Commander.’
Koenig balled a fist and thumped the bulkhead. ‘Paul, keep trying the Eagles.’
‘Check, Commander.’
They heard Morrow doing his best, ‘Come in Eagle One. Come in Eagle One.’
There was no reply and no move from the launch pads. In the command module of Eagle One, Carter was calling on his own account, ‘Eagle One to Base. Eagle One to Base. Do you read me? Paul, can’t you get us off the deck? What’s going on?’
Satazius herself answered him, crossing his line of vision and causing him to come near twisting his head off as he followed her with disbelieving eyes. She was the biggest moving object he had ever seen. His ‘Holy cow!’ was an amalgam of awe and astonishment. In utter amazement, he watched the spacer decelerate, hover over the moon’s surface, dwarfing the installations of Moonbase Alpha and then slowly sink down to a planetfall some two kilometres outside the complex perimeter.
Personnel in Main Mission were inexorably drawn to the direct vision ports, first Morrow, then Sandra, then the rest. They lined the windows watching the billowing clouds of moondust stir around the cliff-like sides of the monster.
The engines of the spacer cut out. Dust slowly settled. Except for the crackle of static, there was silence all round. Helena looked at Koenig, saw the tight line of his jaw and knew what he must be feeling. There was no light from the visitor. Nothing moved. It gave no sign of life; vast as a hill, it projected silence and menace.
Then forward towards the cone, there was a slight stir of movement and Koenig whipped up his binoculars for a closer look. Two hatch covers had slid open and massive extensor arms each carrying parabolic reflectors were edging out. From being a dead lump, the monster had developed a pair of giant eyes.
