Planet Of No Return, page 2
part #2 of Brion Brandd Series
“I believe you, Carver.” She smiled. “And I’m forced to admit that I’m beginning to like you too. Though I have to admit that you are not too good to look at.”
He laughed and leaned back, sipping at the cold drink that had been delivered automatically to the table at his side. “Give me a year and you’ll never recognize me.”
“I am sure that will be true. I’m a biologist, an exobiologist, so I know in theory what can be done with restoration growth, I’m sure that you will be as good as new after some time. But that’s just theory I’ve never seen it in practice before. We’re not rich on Earth, so few of us can afford massive reconstruction like yours.”
“This is one of the few benefits of working for Culrel. They put you back together again no matter how badly you get butchered. I’m going to have a new eye behind this patch in a few months.”
“How very nice. But speaking personally I would like to avoid all the benefits of this kind of reconstruction if you don’t mind.”
“Good luck in that I don’t blame you.”
They both looked up as Brion returned with the viewer. He took the recording cartridge from Carver and slipped it into the mechanism. He and Lea bent close as the screen lit up. Carver collapsed back and listened to the recording while he sipped at his glass. He had heard it often before and he dozed a bit through the early material, but snapped awake as it approached the end. Hartig’s recorded voice continued to speak, sounding calm and precise, although he faced certain extinction, still trying to the last to leave a record for those who would follow after him. Lea was horrified as the recording ended and the screen cleared; Brion’s impassive face displayed no emotion as he turned to Carver.
“And Culrel wants us to go to this planet, Selm-II?” He asked. Carver nodded. “Why? This looks more like a job for the troops. Shouldn’t they be sending something large and well armed that can take care of itself?”
“No. That’s exactly what we don’t want. Experience has proven that armed intrusion is never the answer. War does not work. War kills. What we need is knowledge, information. We must know what is happening on this planet. We need skilled people like you two. Perhaps Dis was your first assignment, something that you were drafted into against your wishes. But you succeeded magnificently, doing what the specialists themselves said couldn’t be done. We want you to put those talents to use here. I’ll not deny that it could be terribly dangerous. But it must be done.”
“I hadn’t planned on living forever,” Lea said, then leaned over to order some strong drinks. Her flippancy did not fool Brion.
“I’ll go by myself,” he said. “I can do this better alone.”
“Oh no you can’t, you great big brainless slab of muscle. You’re not bright enough to be let out alone. I go with you or you don’t go. Try to go by yourself and I will shoot you right here to save the expense of transporting you there just to be knocked off.”
Brion smiled at this. “Your sympathy and understanding are most touching. I agree. Your logical arguments have convinced me that that it would be best if we went together.”
“Good.” She grabbed up the glass as soon as it appeared from the dispenser and drank deeply from it. “What’s the next step, Carver?”
“A difficult one. We must convince the captain of this ship to change course and divert to Selm-II. An operational craft will be in orbit around the planet by now and will be waiting for us there.”
“What’s difficult about that?” Brion asked.
“l see that you have never met the captain of a deep spacer before. They are all very firm minded. And in absolute command while in flight. We can’t force him to change course. We can only convince him.”
“I’ll convince him,” Brion said, standing and looming large over them both. “We’ve taken on this assignment and no little spaceship driver is going to stand in our way.”
3: A Desperate Plan
Captain M’Luta might be described in a number of ways. But never, by any reach of the imagination, could he be called a ” little spaceship driver.” He and Brion Brandd stood toe to toe, glaring at each other. They were both very large men, both solid and tall if anything the Captain was a slight bit taller. He was as just as muscular as Brion and equally pugnacious. They were very much alike in almost every way, with the slight difference that Brion’s skin was a tanned bronze while the Captain’s was a deep black.
“The answer is no,” Captain M’Luta said, the coldness of his tone concealing his growing anger. “You may now leave my bridge.”
“I don’t think you understood me correctly, Captain. I was making a simple and informal request.”
“Good. Informal request denied.” “I haven’t told you the reasons for this request yet …”
“Nor will you ever if I have my way. And I will have my way. I am the Captain of this ship. I have a crew, passengers, and a cargo to think of. As well as my schedule. These come first with me at all times. This has already been disrupted by your people, for the contact and rendezvous to enable you to pick up a drop sphere. I did that because I was informed that it was an emergency. That emergency is now over. Will you leave or must I have you ejected?”
“Why don’t you try.”
Brion’s voice was low, almost a whisper. But his fists were clenched, his muscles taut as he glared at the Captain. Who glared right back. Carver shuffled forward, pushing between them with some effort.
“This has gone far enough,” he said. “Now I must intervene before the situation gets out of hand. Brandd, please join Dr. Morees. Now.”
Brion took a deep breath and forced his muscles to relax. Carver was right but he was still sorry that the Captain hadn’t started a little trouble for him to finish. He spun on his heel and walked over to Lea, who was sitting on a bench against the bulkhead. As soon as the two men had been separated, Carver dug into his side pocket with his good hand and extracted a piece of paper, glanced at it briefly and put it away again.
“We had hoped for your voluntary cooperation, Captain M’Luta. But voluntary or not you will help us.”
“Officer of the watch,” the Captain said into the microphone on his collar. “To the bridge at once with three ratings. Armed.”
“Cancel that order at once,” Carver said, angry himself now. “Get on the FTL communicator and call your base. Ask for Code Dp-L.”
The Captain spun about sharply and loomed over the thin figure of the wounded man. “Where did you get that code?” he snapped the order. “Who are you?”
“No more questions if you please. Make that call and tell them that my name is Carver. Tell them that I am with you now.”
The Captain did not answer, but they heard him cancelling his last command for armed assistance as he stamped across the bridge and into the communication compartment.
“What magic is that?” Brion asked as Carver dropped wearily onto the bench at his side.
“That’s clout, not magic. The Captain’s home world, Roodepoort, is one of those that owes a lot to the Cultural Relationships Foundation. The people on the planet may not know it but the government does. They pay us a very large and completely voluntary contribution each year.”
Brion nodded. “That means that Roodepoort is one of those worlds that Culrel aided in the past. We helped them out of trouble?”
“Perfectly correct. We can ask them for assistance, any amount at any time. But it is the kind of debt that we collect only in an emergency. The director of their space agency has been informed of my presence here, and he has been told that his agency may expect a message about me. The director is a very busy executive and I don’t think that she will enjoy being disturbed in this manner. Like it or not the Captain will cooperate.”
They did not have very long to wait. The Captain stamped back onto the bridge, glowering like a thunderstorm, and stopped before Carver who did not seem to be bothered at all by his threatening presence.
“Who are you, Carver? What makes you able to issue orders like this?”
“Since you have your orders isn’t that knowledge enough?”
“No. It is the law of space that I am the only one who can issue any commands on this ship. Now that law has been broken. My authority has been super-ceded. What if I chose not to obey these new instructions?”
“You could do that. But when you return to port you might find yourself in a small amount of trouble.”
“Trouble?” The Captain smiled grimly. “I’ll be on the beach. Finished.”
“Then you put a high price on your curiosity. I wish to cause you no harm, Captain, please believe me. But it is desperately important that we make this diversion. I will tell you as much as I can. This is a Culrel operation. When you return home you can ask your superiors, the people who have issued you with your orders, what the name means. They are the ones who will decide how much you should know. All I can add is that this diversion is not a casual one. Lives have been lost already, and there will undoubtedly be more of them at stake in the future. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
The Captain thudded his fist into the palm of his open hand with a sharp crack. “No,” he said, “it does not. But it will have to do for the time being. We’ll make the stop. But I don’t want to see any of you aboard my ship. Ever again. I won’t have this done to me a second time.”
“We’ll respect that wish. Captain. I’m sorry it had to be done this way at this time.”
“Get out of here. You’ll be informed of the time of the transfer.”
“You haven’t exactly made a friend there,” Lea said as the door slammed solidly behind them. Carver shrugged, too weary to talk or care. “I’m going to my cabin,” he said. “I’ll join you again when we transfer.”
All of the pleasure had gone out of the voyage for Lea and Brion. They re-examined the record and listened to Hartig’s voice over and over again, so often that they had it memorized. Brion worked out in the ship’s gymnasium, unaware of the fact that his weight lifting and general stamina gave the instructor a definite feeling of inferiority. Lea tried to rest and conserve her energy. She did not know what they would be facing on Selm-II, but the records had shown that it would be dangerous beyond belief. The waiting became unbearable and it was almost a relief to get the disembarkation notice. The Captain was not in sight when they made the transfer to the Culrel command ship.
“What happens next?” Brion asked, as the three of them emerged from the drop sphere inside the cavernous airlock of the ship.
“That is completely up to you, Carver said. “It’s your assignment. You’re the one in charge now.”
“Where are we?”
“In orbit around Selm-II.”
“I want to see it.”
“There’s an observation port in the lower lounge. This way. I’ll have the Project Commander meet us there.”
It was a large ship and a busy one. They passed machine shops and storage bays, halted as robot-operated floater lifts drifted by carrying bulky loads. There was no one else in the observation lounge when they reached it. They stood on the transparent floor, looking down into space. The blue sphere of the planet lay below, half in shadow, illuminated by the fierce glow of the star, Selm, the sun to this solitary world. Brion stared at it with fierce concentration.
“From here it looks like any other planet. What brought about all the interest in it at this time?”
“It all began as a routine investigation and that’s really what it was at first. A normal computer search through some pre-breakup records had discovered a list of shipments to various planets in the old Earth Empire. Most of these worlds were known, but of course there were a few that were new to us. Their coordinates were turned over to Plansurv for contact and identification. Since observation from space had revealed no cities or visible settlements, this planet was the last one to be surveyed. Nor was there any form of broadcasting activity in any of the communication bands.”
“So there are no human beings here, or any signs of civilization other than a few abandoned battlefields?”
“Yes and that’s what we found so intriguing. That military scrapheap that Marcill and Hartig landed near was the biggest one detected. But there are plenty more.”
“Warfare but no warriors. Where are all the people? Underground?”
“Perhaps. That is what you will have to find out after you have made a safe landing. The planet appears physically attractive enough. Those white polar caps you see are ice and snow. And there is a obviously a lot of ocean. There are islands and island chains, plus a single large continent just there. Half night and half day now. It is roughly bowl-shaped, and ringed about with mountain ranges. There are grass plains and hillside forest in the interior. Plenty of lakes, including that big one near the centre where you can see the sunrise glinting on it, really an inland ocean. You’ll get records of all this.”
“What is the climate like?”
“Perfect. At least on the plains around the big lake. It gets a bit cooler in the mountains, but at the lower altitudes it is warm and comfortable.”
“All right. The first thing we are going to need is transportation. What is available?”
“The Project Commander will take care of that for you. I suggest that you use one of the lifeships. They are compact landing vessels with plenty of power to spare, yet are still big enough to carry whatever equipment you may need. And they are well armed too. The techs will see to it that they stock the latest weaponry and defences.”
Brion raised his eyebrows at that. “The guns didn’t seem to help Hartig very much.”
“Then we can profit from his experience.”
“Don’t use we so freely,” Lea said. “Unless you’re planning to come along with us.”
“Sorry. You can have whatever arms and weapons you might need. Both to take with you or have installed on the lifeship. The choice of equipment is yours.”
“Let me have a list of what is available,” Brion said.
“I’ll take care of that,” a voice said. They turned to see the thin, grey haired man who had entered silently while they were talking. He tapped a command into the communicator on his belt. “I’m Klart, your Project Commander. It is my responsibility to not only advise you but see to it that you get exactly what you want and what you need. If you will look at the screen on the communicator over there you will see an index of the items we have in store.”
The lists of available items were long and precise. Brion scrolled through them on the communicator, with Lea sitting beside him, touching the screen over the categories they were interested in. The printouts began to pile up in the hopper beside them. Brion weighed them in his hands when they were done, then glanced at the planet below.
“I’ve reached a decision,” he said. “And I hope Lea will agree. The lifeship will be armed and defended with all of the deadliest weapons that are available. We will also take every possible machine or device that might aid us on the planet. Then, when we are completely equipped, I am going down alone, without any machines or metallic devices of any kind. Bare handed if necessary. Lea, don’t you agree that this will be the wisest course under the circumstances?”
Her speechless look of horror was his only answer.
4: D-Day Minus One
“I’ll draw up a list of recommendations at once,” Klart said, entering a series of commands into his personal terminal. The calmness of his manner indicating that he could no longer be surprised by anything a field agent did or said. Lea did not share his attitude.
“Brion Brandd anyone who says anything like that must be insane. Carver, see that he is locked up at once.”
Carver nodded. “Lea is right. You can’t just walk around unarmed in this sort of situation, on a deadly planet like this one. It would be suicide.”
“Would it? Did all the machines and weapons help the two men who went before me? Marcill just vanished but we now have a very good idea of what happened to him. And we know exactly what that killing machine did to Hartig. If you don’t mind, I don’t really want to go the way they went. It’s personal survival, not suicide that I’m thinking about. Before you make a decision I want you to consider two simple facts. Do you remember how Hartig died? The war machine came straight at him, targeted onto him by his radio or his weaponry. It detected him and destroyed him. Am I right?”
“So far,” Lea said. “Is that fact number one?”
“It is. Hartig was detected and destroyed. Fact two are the animals. You will remember that Hartig described them just after he landed. In the distance, bounding away.”
“And the relevance of these two pieces of information?” Carver asked.
“It’s obvious,” Lea told him. “The animals were alive and unbothered by the war machines. While Hartig was killed by them. So nature boy here is going to become an animal and prowl around on foot to sniff out the situation.”
“That’s insanity,” Carver said. “I cannot permit it.”
“You cannot stop it. Your responsibility ended when you got us here. I’m in command of the operation now. Lea stays with the lifeship in orbit. I land by myself.”
“I take back what I said,” Lea told them. “It’s a sound plan. At least for a Winner of the Twenties.” She saw Carver’s blank gaze and laughed. “They couldn’t have briefed you very well. Carver, if you didn’t know that Brion is a world-wide hero. His home planet which is one of the most uncomfortable in the galaxy has an annual competition that is not only physical but mental. Twenty different events everything from fencing to poetry composition, weightlifting to chess. It must be the most gruelling contest that ever existed, an exhausting demonstration of both physical and intellectual skills. You can ask Brion the details, but the result is an incredible sporting event that has only a single Winner at the end of the year’s contests. Can you imagine a year-long athletic contest in which everyone on a planet participates? If you can absorb that just think what the single victor of that contest must be like. If your imagination balks at that why then just look at Brion here. He is one of those Winners. Whatever is causing the trouble on Selm-II there is a very good chance that he will be able to take it on. And win.”
