Read Online Space 1999 #5 - Lunar Attack by John Rankine - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Rankine
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parted the leaves of the plant. Except for the constant shiver of the leaves there was nothing to see. Deeper in the foliage there was a hissing noise and a darkening as if a shadow rested there. The hissing had become a whisper and Warren jerked out ‘Who is it?’
The shadow was separating from its leafy anchorage. The whisper was louder, making sense to his ears. It was using his name. ‘Warren . . .’ It had more substance, it was male, in Alphan dress, something to be spoken to.
Warren began, ‘Who are . . .’ and stopped, mind swamped by a rising tide of fear. He could see a face, twisted and distorted by scar tissue, the ultimate nightmare visitor making a waking entrance. The lips were writhed away in a fixed deathly grimace, the hand that was stretching out toward him was a mutilated talon.
Warren tried to scream but no sound came. Not ten metres off, Laura Adams and the rest were still at work unaware of his mortal confrontation. When his rigid throat relaxed and his cry of terror sounded out it was amplified by the sudden clatter of Red Alert klaxons.
Before his nearest neighbours could reach him, Helena Russell was reading a print out from the medicentre monitors BOTANIST JAMES WARREN. LIFE FUNCTIONS TERMINATED.
Laura Adams and a cluster of lab techs were in a silent group round Warren’s plant which was blasted on its stem, shrivelled as though by a lightning strike. Koenig pushed through to the front.
Warren was dead. His face was set in a mask of lifeless terror. He sprawled at a crazy angle that told of a broken back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dan Mateo was a worried man. He was trying to think it through and Koenig’s hard line investigation was confusing him. He said, ‘Commander, I wasn’t even in here when he died.’ It was true but it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
Koenig’s eyes never left Mateo’s face. He was waiting for more. What more there could be, he could not guess, but he had a conviction that the whole sequence began and ended with Mateo in some way or other.
Mateo went on defensively, ‘It’s true I couldn’t stand the man . . . but kill him? You know me better than that.’
‘All right, no one is accusing you, Mateo. But you did quarrel with him—and minutes later he was dead.’
Koenig turned away. Personnel in Hydroponic Unit Two were trying to come to terms with the event. Laura Adams was watching Mateo. She thought she had known him as well as one human being could know another. Now the foundation of her trust in him was being kicked away. In some sense he seemed a stranger.
Koenig picked up a stylus and tapped a desk top. Three times we’ve experienced these temperature drops and each time what happens? One. You suffer some kind of mental attack. Two. Doctor Russell is terrorised by an Alphan who can’t be traced, doesn’t seem to exist. Three. Doctor Warren is killed.’
Mateo said obstinately, ‘I don’t see the connection, Commander.’
‘Dammit, man, nothing like this happened before your experiment.’
Victor Bergman had been examining the withered plant and came forward. He spoke quietly to Mateo. ‘Dan, did you know we’ve recorded the presence here of the very same wave pattern you were using in your experiment?’
Mateo looked startled. He said quickly, ‘That’s impossible, Professor. Your equipment can’t pick up that wave pattern. I’m dealing in micro units. It’s so slight it hardly exists. We’re talking about currents that rise in the human brain.’
Koenig said, ‘You’re wrong, Mateo. The computer has it logged. There’s a reading for each time the temperature dropped. That includes here when Warren died. You can check the record for yourself.’
Mateo looked from one to the other. He had to accept it as a truth and clearly it disturbed him.
Bergman said, ‘This wave pattern is common to living organisms. That would explain why computer couldn’t come up with a pin-point trace.’
Koenig was looking interested
The shadow was separating from its leafy anchorage. The whisper was louder, making sense to his ears. It was using his name. ‘Warren . . .’ It had more substance, it was male, in Alphan dress, something to be spoken to.
Warren began, ‘Who are . . .’ and stopped, mind swamped by a rising tide of fear. He could see a face, twisted and distorted by scar tissue, the ultimate nightmare visitor making a waking entrance. The lips were writhed away in a fixed deathly grimace, the hand that was stretching out toward him was a mutilated talon.
Warren tried to scream but no sound came. Not ten metres off, Laura Adams and the rest were still at work unaware of his mortal confrontation. When his rigid throat relaxed and his cry of terror sounded out it was amplified by the sudden clatter of Red Alert klaxons.
Before his nearest neighbours could reach him, Helena Russell was reading a print out from the medicentre monitors BOTANIST JAMES WARREN. LIFE FUNCTIONS TERMINATED.
Laura Adams and a cluster of lab techs were in a silent group round Warren’s plant which was blasted on its stem, shrivelled as though by a lightning strike. Koenig pushed through to the front.
Warren was dead. His face was set in a mask of lifeless terror. He sprawled at a crazy angle that told of a broken back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dan Mateo was a worried man. He was trying to think it through and Koenig’s hard line investigation was confusing him. He said, ‘Commander, I wasn’t even in here when he died.’ It was true but it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
Koenig’s eyes never left Mateo’s face. He was waiting for more. What more there could be, he could not guess, but he had a conviction that the whole sequence began and ended with Mateo in some way or other.
Mateo went on defensively, ‘It’s true I couldn’t stand the man . . . but kill him? You know me better than that.’
‘All right, no one is accusing you, Mateo. But you did quarrel with him—and minutes later he was dead.’
Koenig turned away. Personnel in Hydroponic Unit Two were trying to come to terms with the event. Laura Adams was watching Mateo. She thought she had known him as well as one human being could know another. Now the foundation of her trust in him was being kicked away. In some sense he seemed a stranger.
Koenig picked up a stylus and tapped a desk top. Three times we’ve experienced these temperature drops and each time what happens? One. You suffer some kind of mental attack. Two. Doctor Russell is terrorised by an Alphan who can’t be traced, doesn’t seem to exist. Three. Doctor Warren is killed.’
Mateo said obstinately, ‘I don’t see the connection, Commander.’
‘Dammit, man, nothing like this happened before your experiment.’
Victor Bergman had been examining the withered plant and came forward. He spoke quietly to Mateo. ‘Dan, did you know we’ve recorded the presence here of the very same wave pattern you were using in your experiment?’
Mateo looked startled. He said quickly, ‘That’s impossible, Professor. Your equipment can’t pick up that wave pattern. I’m dealing in micro units. It’s so slight it hardly exists. We’re talking about currents that rise in the human brain.’
Koenig said, ‘You’re wrong, Mateo. The computer has it logged. There’s a reading for each time the temperature dropped. That includes here when Warren died. You can check the record for yourself.’
Mateo looked from one to the other. He had to accept it as a truth and clearly it disturbed him.
Bergman said, ‘This wave pattern is common to living organisms. That would explain why computer couldn’t come up with a pin-point trace.’
Koenig was looking interested
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