The Tenth Planet (22 page)

The car stayed for a time at the Field terminus. When she arrived, she climbed on board, waited until it had started the return journey, then managed to wreck its auto-control system, which meant that it could not complete its journey down the tunnel and, consequently, that it would block any other car.

Then she had gone back to Talbot Field, taken the lift up to the control tower and had then wrecked that simply by breaking open the manual control panel and hammering the circuits with the butt of the anaesthetising gun. She got one hell of an electric shock in the process, but it had only stunned her momentarily.

She had not known how many men would be on duty in the tower; and, by that time, she was past caring.

She burst into the room, saw three men, and fired anaesthetic darts into each of them. Then there was nothing else to do but wait. And that had been the worst ordeal of
all.

She had almost given up hope, and was resigning herself to the probability of her own exile, when she saw a white space-suit indistinctly against the hydrogen snow.

“I knew you would try to get here, Idris. You wouldn’t just walk about until you died. You are not that kind of man. You would try to take the space-ship. I knew it … Did I do the right thing. I didn’t think it all out. It just sort of happened.”

“My love,” said Idris, “you are magnificent. We may not beat these bastards, but we will give them a hell of a run.”

In the control room, he found the three men. One was slumped by a computer console. The other two lay sprawled on the floor.

He examined the room carefully. He found three items of interest. The first, hanging on the wall, was the panel holding the electronic keys that would open the air-locks of the
Amazonia
and the ferry rockets. The second was a button behind a glass panel. There was a bronze plaque above the stud, which bore the following words: “If the existence of the Five Cities of Minerva is ever threatened, from whatever cause, I, Garfield Talbot, enjoin any Minervan present at Talbot Field to press this stud.” And the third item was a hot-line to the office of the President of Talbot City.

“Mary, is there any other way to get up to the control tower from the monorail tunnel, apart from the lift?”

“I don’t think so. There is a service ladder in the lift shaft, but I couldn’t find any stair-case.”

Idris gave a great laugh and kissed her. “Then it is going to take them some time to get to us. If they have to track over the surface from Talbot City, it will take hours and hours.”

“They have jet sleds,” said Mary. “They work on a hovercraft principle and can get over very rough terrain.”

“Never mind. We’ll see them coming. We can seal the air-lock if we have to. Then they would probably need laser equipment to break in … Mary, there is just a chance—not
much of one, but still a chance—that you may yet see the green hills of Earth. Keep your fingers crossed.”

He read the words on the bronze plaque once more and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder what Garfield Talbot was up to when he had this thing installed? Whatever else he was, he was a very practical character. A good commander, I’d say. And a good commander plans for the safety of his troops and tries to foresee all possible threats. This panic button must be pretty damned important for it to be kept operational for three thousand years.”

“If it is operational,” said Mary. “It could just be maintained for sentimental reasons.”

“I wish I knew what it was designed to do.” He broke the glass and gazed silently at the stud as if sheer concentration would reveal its secret.

“You are not going to press it?” said Mary apprehensively.

He held her shoulders. “My dear, consider our situation. Sooner or later the Minervans are going either to force their way into here or to force us to get out. What can we do? Well, we have the key to the
Amazonia
air lock. We can take possession of the vessel. But I am damned sure that even if it is fully fuelled and provisioned, you and I can’t crew it to Earth orbit; and even if we could there wouldn’t be a hope in hell of making a soft touch-down. But let’s suppose, by some miracle, we did make a soft touch-down. What do we do—become the latter-day Adam and Eve? We can’t hope to accomplish much by ourselves, sweet. Genetics, accident, the laws of chance and every damn thing you can think of are against us. We need people.”

“The Triple-T people won’t ever allow any Minervans to leave,” said Mary positively, “even if anyone wanted to.”

“They might—given the right stimulus … Do the Minervans have any kind of game roughly similar to poker, Mary?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. I imagined they didn’t. Poker is a game of bluff. It requires low cunning, deceit, an iron nerve—and a bit of
luck … I used to be quite good at poker. … I didn’t always win. But if you don’t ever gamble you don’t ever win. I want to gamble on Talbot’s panic button, Mary. He was a tough old bird, hard as nails, crazy like a fox. But he was a practical man. Clearly, he knew that sooner or later, Minerva would face some kind of crisis, some kind of threat. I want to know what he has or had arranged to be done about it. Are you with me?”

She smiled. “Of course I am with you, Earth man. That is all that really matters.” She read the plaque once more. “If the existence of the Five Cities of Minerva is ever threatened, from whatever cause, I, Garfield Talbot, enjoin any Minervan present at Talbot Field to press this stud.” She was no wiser.

“I bet there are similar panic buttons in the Council chambers of the Five Cities,” said Idris. “Talbot wouldn’t have relied on having just one.”

“Not that it really matters,” sighed Mary. “There is no threat to the existence of the Five Cities.”

Idris gave a grim laugh. “Oh, yes, there is. Me—plus poker.”

He pressed the button.

T
HE ACCENT WAS
strange but the voice of Garfield Talbot sounded loud and clear, though it must have been recorded thirty centuries ago.

“Citizens of Minerva, greetings. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, my voice comes to you over a secondary communications network that was established for this very purpose. When we came to Minerva from Mars, we came as refugees from the social violence that destroyed two great civilisations. Our ideal was to create a stable society where violence of any kind would be abhorred. In my lifetime, I have seen that we are well on the way to realising that ideal; and I am content.

“As I speak these words, I cannot possibly foresee if you will be listening to them a few years from now, a few decades from now, a few hundred years from now, or, perhaps even longer. But I do know that you should not be hearing them at all unless the very existence of the Five Cities is threatened. It may be that you are facing some natural disaster or that social conflict is attacking the very stability we sought to achieve. It may even be, for reasons I cannot possibly anticipate, that you or some of you will find it necessary to leave this planet, perhaps seeking another refuge in the solar system.

“Therefore, know that the
Amazonia
is not the last spaceship on Minerva. It was said, and I have found it prudent
never to deny it, that, with the exception of the
Amazonia
, the fleet that brought us here was destroyed by my orders. I have encouraged that belief so that my generation and its descendants would strive to make a success of life on this world rather than dream of journeying to another.

“But four of the original space vessels were not destroyed. They are the
Hellas
, the
Elysium
, the
Arcadia
and the
Utopia
. All are, of course, nuclear powered, deriving their fuel from the liquid hydrogen that is so abundant upon this planet. The vessels are stationed at the south polar region. Make such use of them as you need. If the time has come for some or all of you to leave this planet, go with the knowledge that Garfield Talbot realised that humanity would not be confined to Minerva for ever.

“But I say to you, whatever the threat that now faces Minerva, it is your duty to ensure that the race of man shall not perish and that it shall flourish to ultimately reclaim the glories that were lost. Now I, Garfield Talbot, bid you farewell.”

Idris gazed at Mary. There was a glint of triumph in his eyes. “I told you I was a pretty good poker player. That was the ace I needed—Garfield Talbot!”

He grabbed the V-phone, the hot-line to the office of the President of Talbot City. The screen lit up. He saw the President’s face.

“This is Captain Idris Hamilton. You have heard the voice of Garfield Talbot?”

“We have.” The President looked tired, frightened, strangely shrunken. “What are you trying to do?”

“In the name of the people of Earth,” said Idris, “I have assumed command of Talbot Field and of the
Amazonia
. Can you hook this line to the V-phones, screens and public address systems of the Five Cities?”

“We can—but why should we, Captain Hamilton? In a short time, your escapade will be terminated.”

“Unless you do so, sir, in a short time Talbot City and quite probably the other four cities will be destroyed. You have five minutes.”

“Captain Hamilton, you can accomplish this?”

“I can and will. You have four and a half minutes.”

“Very well. We will take you at your word. We can hardly afford to do otherwise.”

Idris glanced at the standard V-phone and the tri-di. “Get those things working, Mary. I don’t think he will cheat, but let’s be sure,” He stood squarely in front of the hot-line lens so that his image would be clear.

“The connections are being made,” said the President of Talbot City.

“You now have three and three quarter minutes,” snapped Idris.

He waited.

Presently, the V-phone and tri-di both relayed his image.

“The link is complete,” said the President.

“Thank you.” Idris cleared his throat. “Citizens of Minerva, you have heard the voice of Garfield Talbot, whom you revere. Now hear what Idris Hamilton, man of Earth, has to say. I have command of the control tower at Talbot Field. In the name of the people of Earth, I have also assumed command of the
Amazonia
which I shall shortly board. There are two of us—myself and my wife, Mary. We cannot crew the
Amazonia
to take it to Earth, though we would dearly love to do so.

“However, we can and will lift off and set the ship down on top of Talbot City, and let the atomic engine go critical if we are attacked or if our demands are not met. Our demands are simple. We ask only for the freedom to seek a volunteer crew—a crew who, willingly, will help us to return to Earth and see if the planet is habitable once more. I believe it may be. Certainly, we should try to find out.

“You have lived so long below the surface of this planet that you are in danger of losing the sense of adventure, the greatness of spirit, the willingness to take risks that is the essence of the spirit of man. I am asking you to show that the greatness of mankind is not yet lost. In the name of the first ignorant savage to discover the use of fire, I am asking you. In the name of the primitive inventor of the wheel, I am asking you. In the name of that long-dead semi-human
creature who found that a log would transport him across water, I am asking you. In the name of the first man who killed himself constructing a flying machine, I am asking you. And I am asking you in the names of the illustrious dead of Earth. Of Galileo, Copernicus and Kepler, who gave you knowledge of the stars. In the names of Leonardo, Rembrandt, Michelangelo, who fixed beauty and wonder upon canvas and in stone. In the names of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, who brought the music of the spheres to men. In the names of Louis Pasteur, who helped conquer disease; Ernest Rutherford, who opened the door to atomic energy, Yuri Gagarin, who was the first man to venture into space.

“But these were Earth men, and you are Minervans, and your ancestors were Martians. So why should you be concerned with the fate of Earth? I will tell you why. Because the red blood of Earth still runs in your veins. Your ancestors lived on Mars for two thousand years. You have dug a rabbit warren here on Minerva and have survived for three thousand years. But you have only survived. You have done nothing else. And yet you carry the red blood of Earth. The blood of the first man who used fire, the blood of Leonardo, the blood of Gagarin.

“Garfield Talbot, who has his own claim to greatness, knew that there was a time to stay still and a time to go forth. Do not betray his heritage; but also do not betray the future of man.

“I will now take possession of the
Amazonia
. If none of you join us, we will not retaliate as threatened. We will lift from Minerva and route ourselves for Earth. I doubt that we shall arrive. But, as a poet whose name I fail to recall, once said: ‘The journey is what matters.’ Message ends.”

Mary’s eyes were wet with tears. “My love, I am so proud. You are the last Earth man, and I shall be proud to die in your company.”

“You will not die,” said Idris intensely. “You will not die. You are not allowed to die. There is something in your belly that has got to live. Now stop wasting bloody time and put on a space suit. We must lock ourselves into the
Amazonia
before those Triple-T characters recover their wits.”

I
DRIS SAT IN
the command chair on the navigation deck of the
Amazonia
. He was waiting. Mary was securely hooked to the first officer’s chair. It was going to be one hell of a lift-off, thought Idris. The
Amazonia
would probably turn turtle during the first ten seconds of ignition. And that would be the beginning and the end of the voyage to Earth.

Still, nothing attempted, nothing gained. It had been worth the effort. Some you win, some you lose. This one was lost. The Minervans had not responded, or the Triple-T had been too strong. Still, it had been worth the effort. And this was a better way to die than by running out of air on the surface.

He had kept the radio channels open. But so far there was nothing except static.