Space 1999 #5 - Lunar Attack (7 page)

There was a tap on the hatch and Helena went to meet Laura Adams. In the long tradition of the medical service, reassuring the patient’s well-wishers, she said, ‘Don’t worry. I’m keeping him in the medicentre over night. He just needs a good night’s sleep.’

‘Can I speak to him?’

‘Surely.’ Tactfully, she made herself busy with a record file and left the girl a clear field. If anything could get a man’s mind off plant research it was Laura Adams and her visit could only do good.

Mateo watched his visitor cross the floor and smiled a welcome, ‘Sorry about all that. You had a scare.’

‘Look, Dan, I’m sure Warren is going to clamp down on your experiments.’

‘Warren! The old fool doesn’t even begin to understand what I’m trying to do.’

‘He thinks it’s too dangerous to go on.’

‘It is—from his corner. If it succeeds, he’ll be as much use around here as a neolithic farmer with a pointed stick.’

It was proof that he was still batting, but she had come with a hard message and had to look away from him to deliver it.

‘I think you should stop, too.’

‘That’s ridiculous . . .’

She would not let him finish, ‘I’m sorry, Dan. I’m serious. I was there. I saw—felt what happened.’

His disappointment was obvious and she felt like a deserter. He heaved himself up on one elbow, ‘I banked on
you.
I thought you at least would understand.’

‘I’m scared, Dan.’

In Main Mission, Koenig was coming to a dead end. None of the Base’s sophisticated hardware had given him a lead. Standing behind Morrow’s chair he said, ‘Well? What have you got, Paul?’

‘We’ve checked and double checked. There’s been no reoccurrence anywhere on Alpha. Whatever happened was a one-off, sudden and swift.’

Koenig turned to Kano, ‘Has the computer traced the source of the disturbance?’

‘No. It tells us everything else, but not that.’

It was a stalemate and Koenig shook his head, baffled. Helena Russell was beginning to doubt the wisdom of allowing a visitor. The patient was looking agitated and Laura was flushed and near to tears. Mateo raised his voice and thumped the coverlet. ‘I will not give up my work. Not now. Not for anybody.’

‘Not for
anybody,
for
yourself.
How can you be so pig stupid!’

Mateo flopped back on his pillow, ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll do it alone.’

She leaned over him, saw the absolute determination in his eyes and was away out of the medicentre at a run.

Helena Russell crossed to the bed, took a hypogun from her belt and held it up to check the charge, ‘Time for your nightcap.’

‘We could all do with a night’s sleep around . . .’ He broke off, staring over her shoulder across the room. There was a figure dimly outlined. A man, familiar and yet not familiar. As he stared at it, it was gone, leaving him uncertain whether he had seen it or not.

Mouth open, he was about to speak and then decided against it. The right moment passed. Helena made a neat, efficient job of the injection. She said, ‘Goodnight,’ but there was no reply. He was staring fixedly at a blank bulkhead. She waited until his eyelids slowly closed and moved away to her desk to make a log entry of time and dosage, dimming the overhead lights from her console.

A faint rustling stirred in the quiet ward. She looked across at the patient unsure whether she had heard anything or not, but vaguely troubled by the sound. As she picked up her stylus, there was a definite creak of footsteps. This time she was sure and stood up, fighting a sense of unreasonable dread. A slight movement of air touched her face and riffled through her hair, so that instinctively she put her hand to it.

Simple fear had her backing slowly away from the desk. There was a sighing, whispering noise coming from where Mateo was lying asleep.

Dry throated she queried, ‘Dan?’ and forced herself to go forward towards his bed. But her way was blocked. The figure of a man dressed as an Alphan executive and in shape and build like Mateo himself had appeared in front of her.

Startled, she stopped dead, fighting for control, steadying her voice to ask, ‘Is that you, Dan?’

The figure came nearer, still making an inhuman, sighing, whispering sound, turning its face so that her desk lamp shone on it.

What she could see sent a surge of terror through her. One side of the face from the hair line to the jaw was furrowed by livid scar tissue. The mouth was distorted by it, pulled and fixed in a maniacal grin. It was the source and origin of the obscene whispering. It was more than her data acquisition network could take and her own scream sounded in her ears as an extra impersonal element in the macabre scene.

Then it had stopped its forward move and was retreating the way it had come, finally disappearing in the shadows around Mateo’s bed.

For a count of five, she was unable to move, held rigid by the horror of it, then she saw the glow from the communications post and she ran for it fumbling for the call button for Main Mission, screaming ‘John!’ as Koenig’s face materialised on the screen.

With the main lights up and Koenig beside her, Helena Russell tried to tell herself that she had imagined it, but there was no concealing that she was still shocked and shaken.

A security guard reported to Koenig, ‘We turned the place over, Commander. There’s no one here.’

‘All right. Stand down.’

The security detail filed out. Mathias came in from the connecting sick bay. ‘I’ve checked every patient, Doctor. It was none of them.’

Helena said, ‘Thanks, Bob.’

Mathias went out. Koenig put an arm round her shoulders for human solidarity and said gently, ‘Helena, only two people were in here. You and Mateo and he was in a drugged sleep. You’re sure about what you saw?’

‘I’m not sure about anything anymore. All I know is how I felt. John, you know Mateo told me what he remembered during his experiment . . . Well, certain things he said, things he felt—intense cold, feeling of dread. John, that’s precisely what I experienced before I saw, or thought I saw that man.’

Koenig turned her towards him, her eyes were wide, almost all pupil, but earnest and honest. Whatever it was, it had seemed true to her. ‘What are you saying? That this was some kind of psychic experience?’

‘All I know is what I saw and felt, nothing more.’

The communications post bleeped and broke into the unspoken contact between them. Kano’s face appeared on the screen. Koenig said, ‘Did you check it out?’

‘Yes, Commander.’

Behind Kano, they could see Main Mission staff looking up at the screen. Kano went on, ‘Yes, Computer logged a definite temperature drop in the medicentre. Identical with the first recording, but still no clue to a reason.’

Bergman moved over and replaced Kano on the scanner, ‘Something else, John. The scan equipment picked up a strong wave pattern in the medical area. And hear this . . . the very same wave pattern that our friend Mateo uses. Very strong.’

‘Thank you, Victor.’

Koenig looked at Helena. One thing was for sure in his book. She was too precious to be at risk. He selected the calling button for the Hydroponic Section and jabbed it home. The man he wanted was there. Warren’s face appeared on the screen.

Koenig said, ‘Doctor Warren, I am putting a temporary stop to Doctor Mateo’s work.’

There was no doubt about Warren’s reaction. It was what he had wanted to hear. Behind him, Laura Adams and other Alphans working in the section looked up to hear the transmission.

Warren said, ‘A wise decision, Commander,’ and smiled round at his team as though vindicated.

Koenig switched himself off. Maybe it was, maybe it was not. He liked hard evidence and right now there was a shortage.

Warren himself wasted no time, he walked purposefully past Laura for the Unit Lab and Mateo’s work desk. He was already dismantling the apparatus on the work top with nervy almost vindictive movements when Laura stalked in behind him. Balling Mateo out herself was one thing. Having Warren swing a chopper at him was another.

‘What are you doing?’

‘This work is now finished. There are more important things for Doctor Mateo, for all of you to do around here.’

To make the point, he pitched some of the small gear into a disposal bin. It was the last straw for Laura. A slim fury, she shoved herself between him and the desk. ‘Leave it. I’ll do it.’

There was a moment of indecision, but he was no fighter and she knew she had won. She said again, ‘Leave it. Don’t worry—I said I’ll do it.’

Warren shrugged, turned on his heel and walked off, leaving her in possession. It was a hollow victory. She didn’t like the chore either. But she went to work, sorting it out for orderly disposal.

In Main Mission, Koenig went to the computer console, ‘Kano, I want a round the clock watch on temperature levels. Any sign of a drop, inform me immediately.’

Alan Carter looked up from the Eagle Command desk, ‘What are we looking for, Commander?’

‘That’s the problem, Alan. I only wish I knew.’

Helena Russell was satisfied on the main count that Mateo was fit to leave the medicentre and signed him off. For herself, she could only believe that her late night experience had been some kind of hallucination. But the memory of it was still fresh and disturbing.

Mateo finished dressing and was in an angry mood. Clearly he was out for a confrontation with Warren. He said, ‘I’m not going to let them do this.’

‘It’s only for the time being, Dan, until we know more about it.’

Mateo was sceptical, ‘I’ve heard that one before. Look, Doctor, we’re out on a limb here in space. We live on borrowed time. If any one of our essential support systems fails maybe we can work round it, but if the food chain goes, that’s it. Finish. My work is vital because I know it can increase the margin for survival.’

‘Don’t pick on Warren. It was a command decision, Dan.’

‘Oh yes. With a big push from Warren. I’m not stupid. Well, we’ll see.’

He was off for the hatch putting forward a hand for the release button. Before his finger reached the stud, the panel began to slide away and he stopped uncertainly. The corridor was empty.

Still sensitive to atmosphere, Helena said, ‘Something wrong?’

‘No. No, it’s all right.’

Mateo stalked out. Two Alphans deep in conversation walked past him. He slowed. He had an uncanny feeling that he was being followed. Maybe they were not sure of him and he had a tail? He stopped and looked back. Only the withdrawing Alphans were in the corridor.

He walked on. This time he could hear the definite soft thuds of footsteps following him. Beads of sweat broke out on his temples. To save time in reaching the isolated Hydroponic Section he decided to use a travel tube and paused at the first travel tube hatch. The footsteps behind him stopped. As he tentatively reached out for the opening stud, he saw it sink into its socket and the hatch sliced open. He stared into the empty travel tube, then shrugged and walked over the threshold. The hatch reacting to auto control began to close, checked itself half way as though to allow access to a second passenger and then closed with a definitive click.

The tube disengaged and accelerated away. Mateo looked uneasily at the facing seat. A shadow had moved on it. As he looked it moved again, restlessly shifting around the tube, approaching him and then disappearing as it fell across himself. There was a presence in there with him. As the tube stopped Mateo stood up, breathing deeply in a bid to clamp down on the panic that was invading his mind. Squaring his shoulders he forced himself to walk along the corridor to the familiar entrance of the Hydroponic Section.

He went right in, past technicians who looked curiously at his set face and then exchanged uneasy glances. In Hydroponic Unit 2, Laura Adams left her work desk and hurried to meet him. He ignored her, going straight on without a word to his own area of the Unit Lab,

Ho was brought up short by the blank surface of his work bench. Beside it, the disposal bin still held the items that Warren had junked.

Face contorted with anger he whipped round and found Laura half a pace away. She said, ‘Dan.’ It was an appeal, but he was deaf to it. Bundling her aside, he was away again and she followed, calling again, this time with sudden concern, knowing what he meant to do. ‘Dan!’

But he was going for Warren’s executive island. He shouted, ‘Warren!’

Warren was off his seat, backing away, a frightened man.

Mateo bore down on him, grabbed him by the slack of his tunic, raised a fist for a smashing blow and then seemed to gain control and stop himself. Glaring into Warren’s terrified face, he held still, it would solve nothing. There was another distraction. He stared at his own hand, clamped on Warren’s tunic it was his own and not his own. No human being would willingly stake a claim to it. Scarred, burned, a property for a horror movie, it was more like a shrivelled claw than a human hand.

He shoved Warren aside and Warren skipped clear, glad to be off the hook but grey to his hair. There was time for him to take a grip on himself. Mateo was on a closed circuit, staring at his own hand. It was normal, sleek and smooth as its twin.

Warren grated out, ‘Get out of here, Mateo. You’re through. I don’t want you in my department.’

It broke Mateo’s concentration, but it was unwise. The face that Mateo turned to him, had murder in it and the voice was deadly earnest, ‘I’ll kill you if you say another word.’

Warren backed off. Mateo spun on his heel and went out, past Laura and the technicians who had gathered around. Warren appealed to them, ‘You saw that . . . you were all witnesses.’

They ignored him, walking off to their duties. With an effort, he straightened up and went to his desk.

Outside, Mateo, breathing hard, was leaning against the corridor wall. Alphans walking past looked at him curiously. No one stopped. Outwardly, he recovered his control. Only his eyes had a staring, haunted look. He stood in the corridor watching the hatch of the Hydroponic Unit.

At his desk, Warren was trying to give the impression that he was unconcerned. A rustling noise behind him had him swivelling round. There was nothing. He went back to work. It came again. He pushed back his chair and stood up. Close by, the leaves of a large plant with spreading foliage were in a tremble.