The Rings of Tantalus (11 page)

Kwango and Pushkin returned shortly before dusk with the chopper. They carried it between them, each gripping one of the skids with an exo-arm, as if the machine were a toy. The vanes had been straightened and the machine looked to be in perfect condition.

They put the chopper down carefully, close to the
Santa Maria’s
landing torus. Then they lay down in their exo-skeletons and unharnessed. They had a story to tell. Pushkin began to tell it—succinctly.

“Comrade Commander, we followed the route you described. We found the helicopter without any difficulty. The marks of your crash had been eliminated, and the machine had been fully repaired.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me Comrade Commander,” snapped Conrad irritably, scratching his silver patch. “I’m not a bloody Communist, Pushkin.” He suddenly realised he was scratching the patch, cursed silently and stopped it. Every bloody thing was getting out of hand.

“No, Comrade Commander. But I am.” Pushkin grinned. “Also it is logical. You are my comrade as well as my commander… There is more. Do you wish to hear it?”

“Of course I bloody wish to hear it!”

“I think—that is, Kwango and I think—the helicopter was meant to be a trap. There were no signs of the monkey robots when we arrived. They must have been aware of our coming, because one cannot conceal one’s existence in an exo-skeleton. But the moment Kwango and I lifted the machine, they came at us from all directions. They had weapons, but they were not permitted to use them.” He laughed. “Kwango reacts very quickly in a time of crisis. He is a good man to have with you, that one.”

“What happened then?” demanded Conrad testily.

Kwango took up the tale. “Sorry, Boss,” he said apologetically, “I goofed. Instant reaction, and all that crap. As soon as I saw the critters, I told Alexei to put the chopper down.” He grinned. “The clockwork monkeys weren’t expecting exos. They were expecting people, such as they had already registered in their circuitry. They got a bad surprise. One of them tossed a grenade. I stooped, caught it and tossed it back. That took care of three of them. Then the rest joined in the fun. With grenades coming from all quarters, it seemed advisable for Alexei and me to start jumping—which we did… Those robots weren’t programmed to deal with agile, metallic giants. It was just like firecrackers going off round our feet… Anyway, I got mad and started stamping on them. I flattened about seven before the three or four survivors got the message. Sorry about that.”

“So you should be,” said Conrad coldly. “I was hoping not to start a bloody war.”

“You said you wanted the chopper back.”

“I did. But not at any cost.”

“Boss, a state of war existed the moment they took out the vids. Also, knocking you out of the sky was hardly a big hello. If I hadn’t flattened those robots, the chopper might have been damaged again or one or both of the exos might have been taken out. Then we would have been in real trouble.”

“Maybe. At least, you’re both back and the chopper is back. Which is something.”

Phase Three

CONRAD GETS TOUGH

That evening after dinner, Conrad said: “It is time we took stock of ourselves and the situation we are in. We have not found the saboteur, if there is one; we have not established any contact with intelligent indigenes, if there are any; we have discovered robots who don’t like us very much and will doubtless like us even less after Mr. Kwango’s recent display of
joie de vivre
.”

He looked at the six other Expendables seated at the’ saloon table. Lieutenant Smith returned his gaze and smiled faintly. Kwango seemed embarrassed, but probably was not. Pushkin, who had eaten a very large meal, looked rather contented, rather sleepy. Uhlmann and Khelad, sitting next to each other, seemed curiously intimate. Conrad suspected that Khelad’s hand rested discreetly on her leg. Ruth Zonis, though flanked by Kwango and Indira, seemed strangely alone, mildly resentful.

“According to all the biological and geological evidence, Tantalus is ideal for colonisation, so we are going to go for broke. If any saboteur wishes to have a crack, he or she will have to do so in the next ten days. After that, there will be no opportunity.”

“How’s that again, Boss?” asked Kwango.

“Work it out for yourself, black man,” snapped Conrad. “You are supposed to be the one with the big computer between his ears.”

“I know what he means, Kurt,” said Ruth Zonis. “If goings go the way he wants, the Commander will put the four of us back in the cooler.”

“Give the lady a cigar,” said Conrad tranquilly. “It was the obvious solution. We can’t spend an entire planetary cycle proving this planet, watching each other, and wondering all the time if somebody is going to pull the plug. So we go for broke. In the next ten days we are going to make a detailed survey of the land, flora and fauna within a radius of one hundred kilometres. We are going to make seismic surveys, magnetometric surveys and so on. We are also going to enter the ring system—blasting our way in, if necessary—to find out what it’s all about. If we don’t get knocked out by a saboteur, or by those monkey robots or by as yet undiscovered indigenes, four of you can sleep it off while Kwango, Lieutenant Smith and I complete the planetary survey and prove that human beings can survive a year of Tantalus.”

“This is monstrous!” exploded Pushkin.

“No. Merely logical, comrade engineer,” retorted Conrad drily. “With the help of the robots, the three of us can manage ten days at maximum alert.”

“Commander, has it occurred to you that you may be paranoid?” asked Lisa Uhlmann softly.

Conrad laughed. “You must have studied the record of my court-martial on Luna… Yes, I may be paranoid, Lisa. It doesn’t matter. I led the team that proved Kratos and gave another world to mankind. Tantalus looks as if it will be even better than Kratos. I don’t care what the hell I do so long as we lick this planet and get the colonists rolling through the matter transmitter. If that is paranoia, I am content.”

Khelad said: “Commander, may we assume that, if the saboteur is found, the rest of us will not be put in S.A.?”

“You may, Ahmed. Thus the goodly have a strong incentive to help. I am gambling, of course, that there is only one. It is now an acceptable risk. Incidentally, Ahmed, I understand that relations between you and Ruth are still not too good. You will have an opportunity to improve them. Until further notice, you and she will work as a team.”

Ruth Zonis stood up. “I will not do it!” she flared. “If anyone is a saboteur, it is that man. I will not work with him.”

“Zonis, you will obey orders,” said Conrad evenly. “If you do not, you will immediately be placed in suspended animation. When we return to Earth, you will stand trial for mutiny. You will also complete your previous sentence for crimes committed against the state of Egypt.”

Ruth Zonis put her hands to her face and made as if to leave the saloon.

“Sit down!” snapped Conrad. “You have not been dismissed.”

She hesitated for a moment to two. Then, obediently, she returned to her chair and sat down.

“For the next few days, Pushkin will work with Kwango and Uhlmann will work with Lieutenant Smith. Get a good night’s sleep, everyone. We are all going to be damn busy. Tomorrow, Khelad and Zonis will get on with production of the mines. When they have got the required five hundred, they will lay a random minefield outside the defence perimeter. They will, of course, leave an avenue free at the gateway and they will mark the exact position of each mine on a large scale map. How long do you estimate it will take, Ahmed?”

The Arab shrugged. “Three, perhaps four days. It is difficult to tell.” He gave a faint smile. “Much depends on how co-operative Ruth will be.”

“She will be very co-operative,” Conrad assured him. “Also she will be watching your every move—as, doubtless, you will be watching hers… How long?”

“Three days, then, Commander.”

“Right. See that it is three days. Lieutenant Smith, you and Uhlmann will make a survey to the south, using the hovercar. You will construct maps, record the abundance, characteristics and movements of all animal life and any other data that is relevant to colonization. Kwango, you and Pushkin will use exos and reconnoitre to the north. You will map the terrain, record the behaviour of animal life, etc. If you encounter robots or intelligent indigenes, you will avoid provocation. If you are attacked, however, and cannot withdraw, you will inflict only sufficient casualties to discourage your attackers. At your discretion, Kwango, you will approach the ring system as closely as possible, endeavouring to determine its nature, its defence capabilities and whether or not it can be entered with or without use of force… Is anyone not clear about his or her duties?”

There was silence.

“Well, then,” said Conrad tranquilly, “let’s all hit the sack. It is going to be a hard ten days’ night—for all of us.”

Later, Indira came to his cabin.

“You played it very rough, James.”

“Intentionally. I don’t like waiting for things to happen.

The saboteur—if we have one—now knows how much time there is left in which to operate. That ought to pile on the pressure.”

“You are sure that is what you want?”

“Yes. I’m damn sure. One way or another, we will find out what the ring system is during the next ten days. Once we lick that, the rest should be relatively easy. If we haven’t found the bad apple, we cool the four of them. Then you, Kwango and I can extend the survey at our leisure… My god, I’m tired.”

“You have been doing too much, thinking too much. How does the arm feel?”

“It throbs and it itches.”

“As your doctor, ideally I should prescribe two weeks of rest followed by four weeks of light duty.”

Conrad grinned. “As your superior officer, I order you to get undressed and get into bed.”

“You can’t do anything with that arm as it is.”

“Find out!” He took off the sling and threw it away.

“James, you are being unreasonable and illogical.”

“I know. Get into bed.”

“You are forgetting the house rules. On Kratos we—”

“Damn the house rules! What we did on Kratos doesn’t apply here. The four new ones have yet to prove themselves as Expendables. But if you want to call Kurt and ask his permission…”

“I don’t want to call Kurt,” she said weakly. “You are a strange man, James Conrad, and I love you.”

“Then get the hell into bed.”

Conrad succeeded in making love—after a fashion— then fainted. Professionally, Indira checked pulses, temperature, respiration. He was O.K. Just exhausted. She held him close, laid his head on her breast, and listened to incoherent mumblings that went on almost through the night.

Phase Four

SUDDEN DEATH

In the morning, before Conrad went down to the saloon for breakfast, Indira got her medikit and pumped a stimulant into him. Conrad protested feebly.

“Last night you tried to play the big he-man,” she said tartly, “and now you are paying the price. It is my turn to get tough. If you don’t obey my instructions, I’ll resume command—Kwango will back me up.”

“O.K., Lieutenant.” He gave a weak smile. “I like you better with your legs wide open.”

“I should have known better,” she retorted. “And I’ll not open them again until you get sensible… Now, you will rest for half an hour while the rocket fuel goes through your system. I’ll get one of the robots not on guard duty to bring you some coffee.”

By the time he entered the saloon, the rest of the Expendables were finishing their breakfasts.

“You all know your tasks,” he said crisply. “Get cracking as soon as you are ready. Check your transceivers before you push off. Matthew will be on duty at the communications console. Lieutenant Smith, you and Uhlmann will report back every hour on the hour. Kwango, you and Pushkin will report back every hour on the quarter past, Khelad, you and Zonis will report back every hour on the half past. Both the exploratory teams will be tracked by d/f. If either team fails to make its appointed signal, a search and rescue operation will be mounted. Good hunting.”

Kwango grinned. “And what are you going to do, Commander?”

“I am going to sit at the centre of my spider’s web and wait for flies.”

Less than three quarters of an hour later, Khelad signalled from the shed where the mines were being assembled. Conrad was taking a leisurely bath. Since the signal was not a routine check-in. Matthew hooked Khelad’s transmission to Conrad’s bathroom ‘phone.

“Commander, six of my mines are missing.”

“I am not entirely surprised, Ahmed. Whom do you suspect?”

“Zonis, of course. But she has not been here very long, and I have watched her carefully. It is most puzzling.”

“Well. The mines are theoretically, non-lethal, aren’t they?”

“Yes. But if six are linked together and detonated simultaneously…”

“I take your point. Let me speak to Zonis.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Ruth?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you confirm that six are missing against yesterday’s tally?”

“Yes, Commander—if yesterday’s tally was correct.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Her voice sounded strained. “It is possible that Khelad is trying to discredit me.”

“Yes, it is possible. It is also possible that the mines really are missing… Ahmed, continue with your programme. I’ll be with you directly. Meanwhile, I will have one robot search the ship and one search the compound. Over and out.”

Conrad called Matthew. “Did you monitor the conversation?”

“Yes, Commander.*’

“Detach two robots to carry out the required search.”

“Decision noted, Commander. Execution proceeds. Paul is now searching the vessel, Peter is already in the compound. Query: if mines are discovered, are they to be returned to Mr. Khelad?”

“No, they are not! If the mines are discovered, the fact must be reported to me only. If they are linked for detonation, they must be neutralised. If they are not linked for detonation, they must remain where found.”

“Decision noted,” said Matthew imperturbably.

Thirty kilometres to the south, Lisa Uhlmann found a strange tree—or, more properly, the tree found her. Lieutenant Smith, piloting the hovercar, had just taken it on high life over about two hundred hectares of scrubland and had just reached a vast tract of prairie on which a herd of massive creatures oddly like the North American buffalo grazed.

Near the edge of the scrubland there was a single tree, very tall, with tendril-like branches hanging loosely and swaying in the light breeze. From a distance it had looked like a huge weeping willow. Indira wanted to observe the herd of grazing creatures, but felt that if she took the hovercar closer the sound of its engine might cause the creatures to stampede. Lisa wanted to go back and examine the strange tree. So far, nothing like it had been found on Tantalus.

Indira grounded the hovercar and glanced at the clock on its instrument panel. “It’s time we reported back to the
Santa Maria
. When we have done that, you can go and take a look at the tree, Lisa, and I will try to get closer to those meaty quadrupeds. It is beginning to look as if there is enough protein on Tantalus to supply all the colonists Earth can send.”

They checked back with Matthew, reported their position, had it confirmed by the direction finder and then got out of the hovercar.

“We will rendezvous back here in thirty minutes, Lisa. O.K.?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“If either of us fails to make it, the other will carry out a limited search. If the one which is missing is not found before it is time to signal the star-ship again, the search will be temporarily abandoned and radio contact will be made on schedule. Further action will then be taken only on Commander Conrad’s instructions. Is that clear?”

Lisa Uhlmann laughed. “Perfectly clear. I do not think there will be any problems, but one never knows. Am I permitted to take a laser rifle?”

“No, Lisa, you are not. You are aware of the Commander’s standing orders. Until we find the saboteur—”

“Yes, Lieutenant, I know. I just thought you might be more reasonable. This reds under the bed syndrome is getting tiresome.”

“Get moving, Uhlmann,” said Lieutenant Smith coldly.

Lisa shrugged, turned and began to pick her way through the scrub towards the great tree. Indira watched her for a few moments. She did not like the rule that the new Expendables were not allowed to carry weapons when they were away from the protection of the compound. But she could appreciate the necessity. One laser rifle in the hands of a saboteur would be sufficient.

Presently Indira turned to make her way stealthily towards the grazing quadrupeds. Fortunately, she was down wind; so unless she made a lot of noise or frightened them by moving carelessly, she ought to be able to get quite close.

In fact, she got to within a hundred metres. Then she crouched in the grass and used her binoculars. The quadrupeds were strong, healthy beasts. Some of them—the males, probably—had a long single horn in the centre of the forehead. The biggest ones formed a protective ring around the rest of the grazing herd. That surely suggested that these creatures were the natural prey of some as yet undiscovered species. Indira did a sample count of a section of the herd and was able to estimate that the total number was about seven hundred.

All the creatures had long shaggy fleeces. So besides providing food for potential colonists, they would also provide wool. Indira was so engrossed in her observations that she was unaware of the passing of time. When, eventually, she glanced at her watch, she saw that she had only eight minutes in which to rendezvous at the hover-car.

Hastily she began to make her way back. One of the horned animals noticed her movement and let out an eerie bellow. Then, horn lowered, he charged with amazing speed. Indira was not afraid. She knew that, with her prosthetic legs, she could certainly out-manoeuvre and probably outrun, the massive creatures. But she did not want to lead it or any of its fellows anywhere near the hovercar, which they might possibly damage.

She waited until the beast was almost upon her, then she sprang high into the air—a magnificent leap of three metres. The creature could not stop its charge. It hurtled on beneath her, only managing to pull up when it was about thirty metres past. By that time, Indira had landed safely and was crouching in the long grass. The animal turned, frustrated, no longer able to see any potential attacker. It pawed the ground, snorted nervously for a few moments, then ambled back to the herd.

Discreetly, Lieutenant Smith returned to the hovercar. She was six minutes behind rendezvous. But there was no sign of Lisa Uhlmann.

Indira waited two more minutes, peering across the scrubland. She could see nothing moving. She entered the hovercar, released one of the laser rifles from its magnetic lock, then went into the scrub, heading for the tall tree, to investigate.

She found Lisa Uhlmann. She found her pressed tightly against the trunk of the tree that from a distance had looked like a weeping willow. Her arms had been forced back, held by several green tendrils. Her legs had been forced open, also held by tendrils. Her fatigue dress had been torn and her full breasts exposed—tendrils gripped them. Tendrils had also ripped her trousers and entered her crotch. And one crimson-stained tendril had wrapped itself round her neck.

Lisa’s eyes were closed, her mouth sagging open. Her breasts twitched and shuddered, but she did not seem to care, or be conscious of anything. Blood dripped from her neck, trickling slowly down her left breast.

Automatically, Lieutenant Smith moved forward to help her. As she did, a long tendril suddenly whistled out from the “tree” with the speed of a whiplash, wrapping itself tightly round one of her legs, tugging hard. She lasered it.

Then she stood well back and began systematically lasering the taut green strands that bound Lisa. The first she burned was the one round Lisa’s neck. Blood dripped from the charred end of the tendril. Lisa’s head fell forward on her chest.

One after another, the tendrils were severed. Lisa Uhlmann slumped to the ground like a torn rag doll. Indira resisted the temptation to go in and help her. The great tree still had a great many “weeping” green thongs, deceptively limp but hideously powerful. She set the laser on maximum burn. She couldn’t blast the tree itself for fear of hurting Lisa; but she could and did burn the weeping tendrils.

She burned them ferociously. The green stuff hissed and crackled. Pungent black smoke rose up to the sky. When she judged that it was Safe, Indira hurried to the unconscious woman.

Blood was still oozing from the wound in the neck. Lisa’s body looked pale and shrunken. Carefully, Indira dragged her clear. Then she went back for the laser rifle. She was just about to burn the entire tree in sheer fury, but she stopped herself in time. It would be a senseless act. Kwango would doubtless want to look at it; and, anyway, her first duty was to her patient. There was plasma and an emergency medikit in the hovercar. By the look of things, Lisa Uhlmann was already desperately short of blood.

Somehow, Lieutenant Smith managed to hoist the unconscious woman over her shoulders to carry her in the fireman’s lift position. Then she stood up. Her prosthetic legs took the strain effortlessly.

Lisa’s head and limbs lolled slackly. More blood oozed from the wound in her neck. It couldn’t be helped. It was too dangerous to leave her while Indira went for the medikit.

Indira began to run. She picked up speed. The legs moved with precision and power, like the wonderful machines they really were. Indira’s greatest difficulty was not in supporting the weight but in keeping her balance. She ran faster than an Olympic athlete, leaping across low patches of scrub and landing perfectly. If anyone had witnessed the performance, they would have been dumbfounded.

Back at the hovercar, she lowered Uhlmann across the rear seat, got the medikit and set professionally to work. She cleared the neck wound, squirted it with the aerosol coagulant, then gave it a temporary coat of synthaskin. She listened to heart and breathing—weak, intermittent, critical. She gave a shot of adrenalin. Then she ripped Lisa’s clothing still further and examined the rest of her. Weals on the waist, legs and shoulders—presumably where she had been gripped and pulled by the monstrous tree— bruises on the breasts, lower belly and vaginal area.

She listened once more to the heartbeat. It was stronger, but still erratic. The adrenalin was beginning to get through.

Lieutenant Smith climbed to the driver’s seat and reached for the transceiver, broadcasting the distress call that had been recognised internationally for one and a half centuries.

“Mayday! Mayday! Hovercar to
Santa Maria
. Do you read me?”

“I read you.” It was Matthew’s imperturbable voice. “Also, I have your position. What do you require?”

“Hook me in to the Commander.”

“Decision noted. Execution proceeds.”

There was a brief silence. Then she heard Conrad’s voice.

“What has happened, Indira? Are you O.K.?” She was gratified by the note of concern.

“I’m all right, James. Uhlmann had an accident. Get out here fast—and bring plasma.”

“Willco. Out.”

Conrad was in the chopper with plasma less than a minute after he had spoken to Indira. As he lifted, he wondered yet again why the
prehensile
robots had reconstructed the machine perfectly. But then, he told himself drily, God moves in mysterious ways.

Kwango and Pushkin were less than one kilometre from the ring system. They had encountered no opposition. They had also encountered little wildlife—which was not entirely surprising, since the sound of exo-skeletons crashing through the forest must have been heard by sensitive ears over a great distance/

Kwango said: “I can’t understand it. We get so near, and nothing happens. If those clockwork monkeys are watching us—which I don’t doubt, since eight metres of metal exo is hardly inconspicuous—they must assume, at best, that we are making a reconnaissance or, at worst, that we intend to attack.”