Bob Shaw - The Ceres Solution

“I see.” The realisation that his association with the tall Mollanian was soon to end, that he had to return to the circumscribed realities of life on Earth, caused Hargate an unexpectedly fierce pang of regret. “I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to go back to Earth—this star-hopping game suits me fine.”

“I know it does, Denny. You’ve got the imagination and the spirit for it, and if there was any kind of justice in this universe you’d be…you’d be…” Lorrest turned away and stared out through the window, blinking rapidly.

“Christ, he’s off again,” Hargate said disgustedly, horrified to find that his own vision was dissolving in a painful blur. “How old are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“Old enough to vote.”

“Then stop acting like a big nancy—it’s bloody embarrassing.”

“I’ll do my best, sire.” Lorrest looked owlishly at Hargate for a moment, then his shoulders came up, his face darkened and he had embarked on one of his excruciating whole-body laughs. Hargate felt his own chest give a sympathetic squeeze and within a few seconds he had lost control and was honking and snorting through his nose as an ungovernable tide of laughter went through him, relieving the stresses that had been building since the previous evening. The sight of Lorrest’s contorted, plum-coloured features defeated his every attempt to calm down, and he knew that his own nasal bleatings were having a similar effect on the Mollanian. On the verge of panic over the idea that his lung function might cease altogether, Hargate wheeled himself to another part of the long cabin, shaking his head and cackling, and waited for the return of sanity. It was the first time in his adult life that he had experienced that kind of laughter—nobody on Earth had ever created the necessary climate of camaraderie—and the incident, trivial though it was, magnified his regret at losing Lorrest. He tried to locate a source of hope.

“If things are going to be different on Earth when you have forced Mollan into open contact,” he said, “maybe you’ll go back there.”

“I’d like to—I intend to—but there’ll be a lot of court procedure on Mollan.” Lorrest looked uncomfortable. “It could be quite a few years.”

“Enough said.” Refusing to yield to self-pity, Hargate went to the front of the cabin with the intention of sating his hunger for strange horizons while he still had the opportunity. Almost as if his movement had affected the aircraft’s balance, the nose of the machine dipped under automatic control and it began boring down into lower layers of the atmosphere. Within five minutes they were on the ground at the point from which they had departed on the previous day and Lorrest, who was rapidly regaining the use of his left arm, had unloaded Hargate and his chair. They left the wooded area, crossed the stream and proceeded up the gentle rise in the direction of the invisible node.

“Have you made up your mind?” Lorrest said, effortlessly propelling the chair on the incline.

“It had better be Cotter’s Edge—that’s where it all started.” Hargate suddenly realised he felt something akin to claustrophobia at the prospect of returning to his former existence. “Besides, from Valparaiso the Moon would be upside down. It wouldn’t look right.”

Lorrest halted the chair a few paces from the node, came round to the front and extended his hand. “We’d better take the chance to say goodbye. There’ll be Bureau men waiting for me at the other end, and things may be a little difficult.”

“Sure.” Hargate was in the act of reaching for the offered hand when—with a silent, mind-numbing shock—his reality changed.

Standing behind Lorrest, where a second earlier there had been emptiness, was a towering figure in a gold-belted tunic of silver brocade. His head was leonine and massive, with the unmodified Mollanian cranium, and in one hand he held what appeared to be a radiation weapon. Hargate recognised Warden Vekrynn on the instant and his mind was invaded by darkness.

Lorrest spun on his heel and froze as Vekrynn made a stabbing gesture with the pistol.

“That’s the way—both of you stay perfectly still,” Vekrynn ordered, using English for Hargate’s benefit. “These paralysis weapons are basically harmless, but I’m told it’s quite painful when the effects begin to wear off.”

Still trying to adjust to the startling change in the situation, Hargate glanced up at Lorrest. Their eyes locked briefly and Lorrest gave a barely perceptible shake of the head. Ambiguous though the signal could have been, Hargate fully understood the message. If he finds out we’veseen the sixth copy of his Notes, he’ll kill us on the spot .

“And you couldn’t bear to inflict pain, could you?” Lorrest’s tone was relaxed, almost amiable.

“I can bear it when I have to,” Vekrynn said comfortably. “Especially when I’m dealing with a man who has recently committed murder.”

“Did Gretana tell you that?” For the first time Lorrest began to show concern. “Didn’t she mention that the Terran was on the point of killing her?”

“Perhaps it slipped her mind. Her memory has been at fault several times recently.”

“I wasn’t able to subvert Gretana, if that’s what you’re implying,” Lorrest said. “You’ve got nothing against her.”

Vekrynn shrugged, sunlight rippling on his bright tunic. “I’m more interested in you right now, Lorrest tye Thralen. What are you doing here?”

“I came to find Denny, and since then we’ve been sleeping and eating mostly.” Lorrest nodded towards the remains of the previous day’s meal, visible a short distance down the slope. “It seemed quite a good place to hide out until…until a certain astronomical event had taken place.”

“Really?” Vekrynn’s eyes narrowed as he studied Lorrest’s face, then he began to smile. “You have a knack for getting things wrong—especially about Ceres and the Moon. There isn’t going to be any collision.”

Lorrest shifted uneasily. “That’s what you think.”

“Did you really believe I wouldn’t be able to find Ceres?” Vekrynn’s smile broadened into a jubilant grin. “I’ll admit it was a costly operation, but not all that difficult. It was simply a matter of pouring in men and equipment, saturating a smallish volume of space. I’m pleased to inform you—in fact, I’m delighted to inform you—that I have knocked out every screen placed on Ceres by 2H and have made it clearly visible. We’re already using thruster rays against it. There is a tremendous amount of kinetic energy to overcome there, but Ceres is being deflected enough to miss the Moon. The Terrans are going to wonder what’s been going on, of course, but that’s a…”

“You’re a liar,” Lorrest shouted, his lean face hardening with anger.

“Why should I lie?” A tremor of excitement was now evident in Vekrynn’s voice. “Face up to the fact that you have failed, Lorrest tye Thralen. All I have to do now to tidy up this little matter is dispose of you and that.” On the final word Vekrynn’s pistol pointed at Hargate and swung back to cover Lorrest.

From the lowly vantage point of his wheelchair, Hargate had been viewing the exchange as a confrontation between two Olympian giants, but Vekrynn’s gesture with the weapon was a reminder that he too was vitally concerned. He had no way of knowing if the Warden had psychologically prepared himself for a straightforward act of murder, but even if the plan was to paralyse them and dump them in a remote desert or snowfield, his immediate personal prospects were bleak. The weapon Vekrynn was holding may have been classed as harmless, but Hargate suspected that only held good for targets in normal health. In recent months he had been experiencing growing difficulty in breathing and coughing, and he was almost certain that any serious interference with his nerve functions would be lethal.