Destroyer of Worlds (20 page)

The Moonbase had originally been established as a military base during a time of fraught international tension at the start of the 22nd century, and had a full defensive capability. Those tensions had since eased, as the Western and Eastern Federations had merged into a peaceful World Federation. Now it was used for pure scientific research, but Regan silently thanked the previous Commander who had ensured that its defensive weaponry had been maintained.

The touch of a button and he looked into Medical Centre. Elna, he noticed, was at her station and he watched the softly gleaming gold of her hair, the play of light and shadow over the strong contours of her face. A face with prominent cheekbones, wide-spaced eyes, a generous mouth and a determined chin. One which, at times, could be a mask.

“Elna!” He saw her turn towards the communication post and said, quickly, “Just a routine check. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“At times, Mark, you are a master of understatement.”

“Not this time—that I promise.”

A lie and he wondered why he had said it, wondered too why he had felt it necessary to talk to the woman. It would have been enough simply to scan, but he had a reluctance to spy, to watch without her knowing she was under observation.

An invasion of privacy and yet in the confines of the base it was almost impossible to avoid it. And, when the common security was threatened, there could be no time for minor considerations.

Another button and he looked into the newly opened cavern. Boardman, he knew, had arranged a small party to celebrate the occasion; a matter of small cakes and weak wine, the spirit more important than the actual drinks and comestibles. He stood now in the centre of the throng, a glass in one hand, a cake in the other, his face flushed with pleasure.

An old face, seamed, the hair receding from the domed skull, the ears tight against the bone. His eyebrows were bushy and the figure beneath his uniform was not as it had been. Taut muscle had yielded to soft contours and the firm skin had become creped yet though his body had weakened there was nothing wrong with his mind. Professor Trevor Boardman, a genius who had chosen to live, study and work on the Moon. An honoured guest who had become involved with the rest. One who had proved his worth a hundred times in the precarious artificial environment.

One with a chronic heart condition.

At times he joked about it, resting his hand on his chest where surgeons had performed a life-saving operation. A miracle of medical science that had enabled him to live when earlier men would have died. To live an almost normal life—but only in the benign one-sixth gravity of the Moon. To return to Earth and its gravity would kill him. Nor did he seem bitter at his fate: the unique environment of the Moon had given him the opportunity to conduct scientific experiments impossible on Earth.

Some hinted that his devotion to scientific study indicated that he lacked human warmth and understanding. That his calm appraisals of any situation were too coldly precise and devoid of any trace of human compassion. Regan didn’t hold that opinion and had little patience with any who did. To him Trevor Boardman had a greater depth of humanitarian understanding than most. A dedicated scientist who had earned every prize and award he’d been given and one worthy of the highest respect.

Now he was enjoying himself beneath the sun he had created, at home in the tiny paradise he had planned and helped to build.

“Pinnace One approaching target area, Commander,” said Versin from his console. “Shall I put it on the main screen?”

“Yes.” Regan knew the value of participation and every man and woman in the Control Room would be curious. “Adam?”

Carver was on the screen. His face behind the open faceplate of his helmet was bewildered. He said, “I’m within visual range, Commander, but you’re not going to believe this.”

“Why not?”

“I—well, see for yourself.”

His image vanished, another took its place. The vista of space, distant stars, the luminosity of the void, shimmering patches of remote galaxies, the whole, awe-inspiring immensity of the universe.

A backdrop to what lay in the foreground. A something that was—incredible.

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