Space 1999 #3 - The Space Guardians Read Free

computer check on all the star-systems in this sector. Not one has a habitable planet.’
    ‘Commander, we can camouflage our existence from your archaic probes.’
    Archaic, thought Koenig. He thinks we’re backward.
    ‘As you are, Commander,’ said the man. ‘And I should not toy with you.’ His voice changed, the smile disappeared, and his eyes blazed with something like exultation. ‘John Koenig, I am Raan, a citizen of Zenno. Look at Zenno City.’
    He waved, and a dazzling panoramic view of the fantastic city Koenig had seen in the big screen of Main Mission Control unfolded and engulfed him. Its rearing towers climbed majestically into a violent purple sky. He was forced backwards. He felt dwarfed, a savage from the jungles of Earth suddenly adrift in a modern city complex.
    ‘You will adjust, John Koenig,’ said Raan. ‘But first you must know that I read your thoughts. And I understand your feelings of inadequacy. They are well based. It will be thousands of years before your race begins to be able to reach out to us and meet us on something like level terms.’
    Koenig looked past the man. Purple was the predominant hue of Zenno. Purple sky, a violent purple sun that hung darkly over the shimmering city. Then Koenig looked back at the man who called himself Raan. Telepathic.
    Raan nodded.
    ‘Try to adjust, Commander. It’s true. I read your mind. And I brought you here.’
    ‘And what of my ship?’ Koenig said bitterly. ‘And my command?’
    ‘Look.’
    Raan’s strange eyes shimmered, and the purple sky-city dissolved into a glaring purple void. Koenig again had the sensation of immense distance. And then he saw himself.
    He was looking down at the slow-breathing body of John Koenig as if he were one of the half-dozen people in the cabin of the wrecked Eagle. Carter was there, crowded by a pair of medical attendants. Bergman watched the unconscious body—watched him! —with a puzzled air of uncomprehending pity. And on Helena Russell’s beautiful face was the intent stare of a professional confronted by the inexplicable.
    Koenig tensed as he saw the wound on his own forehead. It had been cleaned up, but the gash told of the gravity of the injury.
    Helena Russell spoke crisply:
    ‘I can’t do anything for him here. He can be moved, Paul.’
    Koenig glimpsed Paul Morrow’s worried features in the small screen. ‘I’ll send a Cargo Eagle, Dr Russell. Any reaction, anything at all?’
    Koenig watched, fascinated, as Helena ran a finger over his white face. No one else saw the action. She didn’t look like a surgeon.
    ‘None,’ she said to the screen.
    Koenig refused to believe what he saw.
    ‘Hallucination,’ said Koenig across the light-years. ‘I don’t know how I project you, but I’m still on a rock, out of control and lost. You’re an unreality.’
    Raan waved a hand, and the brilliant purple sky-city formed.
    ‘I understand your incredulity, Commander John Koenig. I won’t attempt any further explanation, not yet, but you should know that you have been brought here for a purpose. Think of this, though, whilst you rest and eat. Why did your ship Eagle One search in that particular area?’
    Koenig wondered whether he should answer. Answer the projections of one’s own mind? If he did that, then he became part of his own fantasy. If he didn’t answer, then—he paused—then how did he get to know the answer to the question?
    ‘Well?’ he heard himself say.
    ‘We interested you in the possibility of fuel materials, Commander. I had your deductive machines send you there. I wished to isolate you, Commander, put you in a stress situation.’
    ‘And risk killing me?’
    Raan smiled, not pleasantly.
    ‘There was little risk. And here you are.’
    Koenig looked down at his wrist.
    The monitor was blank. Defunct. Life-functions at cessation level, as the computer put it.
    ‘Am I?’ he asked.
    ‘Let my daughter convince you,’ said Raan.
    Koenig felt his emotions somersaulting