The Rings of Tantalus (6 page)

Stage Two

TOUCH-DOWN

Phase One

TOUCH-DOWN AND EVALUATIONS

When the rockets died, there was a great stillness. The
Santa Maria
had touched down about twenty-five kilometres south of the ring complex. Everyone began to fumble at the straps of their contour-berths on the navigation deck.

Conrad, space veteran that he was, made every movement slowly and deliberately, giving his limbs time to adjust to a gravity that was more than ninety per cent as strong as that of Terra.

Uhlmann and Khelad fairly leaped out of their contour-berths—and fell flat on their faces.

Conrad gazed down at them benignly. “More haste, less speed. Your muscles are in lousy shape. All our muscles are in lousy shape. We are all going to have to tone them up before we get out of the air-lock.”

Kwango got out of his berth without any difficulty. “O.K. if I roll back the screen and take a look through the observation panel, Commander?”

“In a minute, Kurt. General orders first. The day on Tantalus lasts twenty-three hours seven minutes, Standard Earth Time. While the robots make preliminary surveys of our immediate vicinity, we will get ourselves back to a state of operational efficiency in a fairly strong G field. Lieutenant Smith, you will look to the welfare of Alexei Pushkin. I want him operational as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Commander. You are not forgetting that…” She left the sentence unfinished.

“No, I am not forgetting anything.” He gazed at the six Expendables calmly. “There is nothing wrong—at least, I hope there is nothing wrong—with Alexei Pushkin’s heart. I kept him in the cooler deliberately. According to my information, it is possible that we have a saboteur on board the
Santa Maria
. It cannot be myself for obvious reasons. Nor can it be Lieutenant Smith or Kurt Kwango for the same reasons. It could be one of you. Or it could be Pushkin. I have, as you know-, six robots at my command. Normally they are programmed not to be able to harm human beings. I have changed that programme and have inserted homicidal capability. Three of the robots will be on permanent duty in sensitive areas of this vessel until I am satisfied that there is no saboteur—which I hope—or that he or she has been discovered.

“This will undoubtedly place some strain on our exploration capacity. But I think we can cope.”

He glanced searchingly at Khelad, Uhlmann and Zonis. “I greatly hope that none of you wants to wreck this mission. On the assumption that you all may be entirely innocent, I apologise in advance for the surveillance and restrictions that are obviously necessary. None of you— Pushkin included—^will be allowed access to the following areas unless accompanied by Lieutenant Smith, Kwango or myself: the nav deck, the engine-room, the weapons and stores hold, the laboratory, the computer room. When we begin the exploration programme, we will operate in pairs. Weapons and explosives will only be issued on my authority. The robots Matthew, Mark and Luke will be available to assist our efforts at exploration and proving. John, Peter and Paul are the Praetorian guard and will not leave their posts until we have resolved this problem, one way or another. Now, let’s all take a look through the observation panel. One day—if we can do a good job— Tantalus may support one thousand million human beings. If we have a saboteur, let him weigh the value of his own cause against the value of that. Message ends.”

“This is monstrous!” said Lisa Uhlmann. “How can we give our best if we are under suspicion and constantly watched?”

Conrad shrugged. “I cannot recall promising you an easy life when you volunteered to join the Expendables.”

“So I was right,” said Ruth Zonis. “You were hoping to make the saboteur betray himself when we were in orbit.”

“It was a gambit,” admitted Conrad. “Not a strong one, but worth trying.”

Khelad smiled. “Commander, permit me to congratulate you. In your position, I would do exactly the same.”

“Would you, Ahmed? That is interesting.” Kwango had rolled back the screen. The observation panel revealed the surface of Tantalus from a height of ninety metres. It was impossible to look straight down; but the panel revealed a broad expanse of grassland. In the middle distance there was the beginning of a semi-tropical forest and, far beyond that and misty in the far distance, a range of snow-capped mountains. The blue sky was flecked with cloud, and the sun had passed its zenith. Local time, it was mid-afternoon.

Kwango peered through the manual telescope. “Ever been to Kenya, Commander? It is in Africa. This place reminds me of it very much.”

“No, I haven’t ever been to Kenya, but I do know it is in Africa… Any sign of animal life?”

Kwango shrugged. “No. But that means nothing. Any-thing within a radius of twenty-five kilometres and possessing a central nervous system must have shit itself stupid when we came roaring out of the sky.”

“Take a good look, everyone,” said Conrad. “This is the world we are going to prove for human colonisation.”

“It looks very ordinary, very Earth-like,” said Lieutenant Smith.

“So did Kratos,” said Conrad, “and that gave us some very interesting moments.”

“Where is the ring system?”

“Planetary north. Twenty-five or thirty kilometres inside that forest. If the rings were fabricated by intelligent beings, and if said
intelligent
beings are still around, they will be aware of our coming.”

Matthew came to the navigation deck. “Engine-room and control systems checked, Commander. All propulsion systems closed down. Power systems normal. Slight malfunction in re-cycling unit now being repaired.”

“Good. John, Peter and Paul are at their stations?”

Matthew contrived to sound pained. “Your decisions are always executed, Commander.”

Conrad scratched his silver eye-patch irritably. He was aware that it was a mannerism that was becoming more and more frequent. He made a mental note to try and stop it.

“Cancel query.”

“Decision noted. Execution proceeds.”

“These are my further instructions. You will assign the two remaining robots to immediate external survey. They will inspect the landing torus for possible damage, determine the attitude of this vessel and report back. If no damage and if altitude is less than five degrees from vertical, they will proceed as follows: one, they will set up four vid cameras north, south, east, west at a distance of fifty metres from the
Santa Maria;
two, they will test hook-in to command screens; three, they will collect soil, air, vegetation specimens and return same to air-lock for analysis; four, they will sweep an area of one thousand metres radius from this vessel; five, if animal life-forms are encountered, the robots will transfer visual data to command screen one; six, if hostile life-forms are encountered, the robots will return to
Santa Maria
at maximum speed without accepting any risk or taking any retaliatory measures. Execute.”

“Decisions noted, Commander. Execution proceeds. Mark and Luke are now assembling their equipment in the air-lock. Estimated time for transfer of equipment dirtside, eleven point five minutes. Estimated time for immediate external survey, four point—”

“Data not required,” snapped Conrad irritably. “Execute with maximum efficiency, that is all.”

“All operations are carried out with maximum efficiency, sir. In case of malfunction in any other robot, my command circuit can override—”

“I know about your command circuits. Cancel statement.”

“Decision noted. Execution proceeds.”

Phase Two

TALE OF A PREHENSILE TAIL

The
Santa Maria
had not damaged itself on touch-down and the distortion of the large landing torus was negligible. Some of the titanium cladding had been dented but not even badly enough to justify repair. The ship’s attitude was slightly over three degrees from the vertical, which was nothing at all to worry about.

When the robots had reported and Conrad was satisfied about the safety of his vessel, they proceeded to carry out their other tasks. The vid cameras were set on tripods, each with a variable speed rotating mechanism to support the head. Conrad ordered the north and south cameras to be set on one-minute rotation and the east and west cameras on two-minute rotation. But each camera could also be independently controlled from the command screens on the nav deck. Thus the immediate vicinity of the ship could be under constant surveillance.

The samples collected by the robots were surprising only in their remarkable ordinariness. They were analysed by Ruth Zonis and Lisa Uhlmann under the watchful eyes of Kwango. The air was oxygen/nitrogen in a rich 76/24 proportion. There were traces of argon, neon, helium, zenon and krypton—as in the air of Terra. Uhlmann was amazed at the similarity.

“This is astounding,” she said to no one in particular.

“The air of Tantalus is actually better for us than the air of Earth.”

Kwango yawned. “Lisa, after proving Kratos, I am almost immune to wonder. Not entirely, just almost. I have a notion that Tantalus is too good to be true.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The big negro laughed and flexed his muscles. “It seems to be a place where every prospect pleases… Do you know the rest of the quotation?”

Lisa Uhlmann stood up and stretched, thrusting out her breasts. They were very good breasts, Kwango noted. Some day, he thought, if she is not the one who is trying to blow us all, I’ll try for a more intimate examination of those tits.

“Where every prospect pleases,” said Lisa, observing the way he looked at her, “and man alone is vile.”

Kwango laughed. “Score one.”

“I score two. You fancy me.”

“Yes,” agreed Kwango. “I fancy you. But score one only. Until I and the good Commander are satisfied that you are not going to be naughty, score one. Your breasts do not carry a written guarantee of loyalty.”

Lisa Uhlmann shrugged. “Nevertheless, I am a damn good chemist, Kurt.”

“So you are. You have yet to prove that you are a damn good Expendable.”

Ruth Zonis worked efficiently and enthusiastically. The soil of Tantalus was a dark, heavy loam, rich in organic matter—far richer than the almost worn-out soil of Earth that had had to yield too many crops to support too many people, and was now paying the price for having been boosted for one and a half centuries by chemical fertilisers. She found nitrogen-fixing bacteria in plenty on the roots of a small plant that greatly resembled terrestrial clover. She isolated tiny insects and prepared them for microscopic examination. She even found a worm.

“Kurt, Lisa! This soil is so rich we could grow anything. We have hit the jackpot. We have come to a biological wonderland.”

“Then,” retorted Kwango tranquilly, “all we have to do is take the joker out of the pack, and
homo sapiens
will have another planet to mess up.”

“The joker being our real or imagined saboteur?”

“The joker is the joker,” said Kwango.

Meanwhile, Alexei Pushkin was being brought out of suspended animation. Matthew was the star performer. Matthew with his thermal gloves and his unfailing efficiency. Lieutenant Smith was merely an observer. Medically, there was no need for her presence. She did not even need to supervise. Matthew’s skill was irreproachable.

But she knew why Conrad really wanted her to be there. There was just a chance that, when he came out of S.A., Alexei Pushkin might make some revealing utterance before he was in full possession of his faculties. Nothing he might say could establish that he was not a saboteur. But he just might say something that would prove his guilt.

Indira watched Matthew massage expertly with the thermal gloves, bringing heat close to the heart. Alexei’s naked body seemed curiously shrunken. In life, he was a big robust man: in suspended animation, he seemed small, vulnerable, almost unimportant. S.A., thought Indira, was a biological outrage. She knew it was necessary if mankind was to get out to the stars. No one could consciously experience faster-than-light drive and remain sane. Only robots could take the nightmarish stresses and remain rational; but that was because the robots had rigidly programmed logic circuits, and no emotional apparatus. They were programmed to ignore irrelevant data. Human beings could not be so programmed—thank Godl

“How is Pushkin doing, Matthew?”

“Temperature is still three degrees Centigrade below independent life-support, Lieutenant. There is intermittent heart response; but the breathing cycle is not yet actuated. Condition normal for this stage. Estimated time for full resuscitation thirty-two minutes, S.E.T. If the situation is designated as an emergency, the time factor can be reduced to twenty-one minutes, but the risk of heart damage will be increased. Do you wish to designate emergency?”

“No, Matthew. Continue normal resuscitation.”

“Decision noted. Execution proceeds.”

While Matthew continued his thermal massage in the heart area, he placed his other thermal glove under the blue and shrunken testicles. They grew larger. The tiny protrusion of the penis expanded. Pushkin had an erection.

Indira smiled. As a doctor, she knew that frequently men at the point of death had erections. It was part of the biological programme, the indomitable will to survive and procreate. It was new to her that they also had erections when they were coming out of suspended animation. She was amused that the penis had begun to function before the lungs. Nature played strange tricks…

Twenty-seven minutes later, Alexei Pushkin screamed and tried to sit up. He saw a woman bending over him, and a monstrous metal thing with the word Matthew painted on its chest plate.

He said: “Tell them I’ll do it! I want to do it!” Then he sank back and closed his eyes.

Matthew said: “Heart functions well, breathing cycle vigorous, disorientation normal for trauma of emergence.”

Indira picked up Pushkin’s hand and held it. The fingers were still chilled. Professionally, she felt his pulse. Pushkin’s heart was beating vigorously. He gazed up at her as if he did not know her—which he did not, though presently he would. Coming out of S.A. almost invariably produced disorientation and temporary amnesia. But it soon passed.

“Shall I proceed with data feed?” enquired Matthew.

Indira smiled faintly. Data feed! What a hell of a phrase to describe the process of telling a traumatised man who he is, where he is, what he is.

“No, Matthew. I will give him the necessary information.”

“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.”