The Rings of Tantalus Read Free

idiocy.” Then he sighed once more, and pulled himself together. “Cancel both statements.”
    “Decision noted,” said John impassively. “Execution proceeds. Statements one and two are now cancelled.”
    Conrad sipped his coffee and tried to condition himself to wait patiently for the emergence of Lieutenant Smith. Apart from the supposed or real threat of sabotage, there was plenty to think about. How long should he allow the Santa Maria to remain in orbit. Where should touch-down be? Should he try to get as near to one of the enigmatic rings as possible, or should he prudently make the first touch-down at a respectable distance? How long should he allow for surface adaptation to a field of—78G?
    The moon of Tantalus drifted past the observation panel unnoticed. Presently, Conrad’s head began to ache. Presently, he summoned a robot and demanded a quarter litre bulb of brandy from general stores. Presently Matthew informed him that Lieutenant Smith was alive and well.
    Conrad’s headache had gone. Whether it was due to the brandy or to the news brought by Matthew he did not know.
    “How long will it take to get Kwango out?”
    “Approximately one hundred and sixty-five minutes, Commander.”
    “Get him out faster.”
    “Query. Is the situation designated as an emergency, sir?”
    “No, dammit. Don’t take any risks. I need Kwango all in one piece.” Then he added maliciously: “The last time you tried to raise him to room temperature, he was stone cold dead. Lieutenant Smith had to give him a heart transplant.”
    “I recall the incident, sir,” said Matthew, with, perhaps, a hint of reproach in his robotic voice. “The vessel was orbiting Kratos. Cardiac failure was not due to any fault in resuscitation techniques.”
    “I know that,” said Conrad. “Apparently, Kurt ducked his sub- thermal shock injection on Terra. So ice crystals formed and burst his heart when he was chilled. He learned his lesson. Just get him out as fast as you can. Execute.”
    “Decision noted, Commander. Execution proceeds.”

 
    Phase Two
    JOKER IN THE PACK
     
    Conrad held his conference in the saloon. Lieutenant Smith and Kurt Kwango, being very recently out of S.A., were ravenously hungry. Conrad watched them attack massive genuine Scotch steaks washed down with real red wine. Even on Earth, such a meal would have cost a very great deal. Add to that the cost of transporting such food fifty-six light-years, and the meal was worth more than its weight in platinum. Conrad had satisfied his own intense protein hunger some time ago. It was odd, he reflected, how everyone coming out of S.A. had this tremendous protein hunger. No doubt the medicos would explain it in terms of temporary alterations in body chemistry caused by the shock of being returned to normal temperature.
    Well, he reflected, let them both enjoy their luxury. Soon they would be eating synthetic concentrates, recycled food, or living on whatever Tantalus would provide. Indira, he thought, was already beginning to look her usual attractive self. The white hair was a perfect frame for her delicate features and for the subtly light Indian skin. He remembered, briefly, the ten days they had spent together in the North West Highlands of Scotland, after returning from Kratos. A wonderful ten days to be locked away in some secret part of the mind and be treasured for ever. He pushed the memory back into its dark mental capsule.
    Until Tantalus was proved, he did not want to take it out again. Until Tantalus was proved, he supposed, Indira would have to be Lieutenant Smith, Second-in-Command, Expendables Team Two.
    Kwango seemed to be in great form. Unlike the last time, when Surgeon Lieutenant Smith had had to cut out his dead heart and implant a new one. The Nigerian ecologist had a magnificent physique, which showed little trace of the fact that his mother was German. The negro genes were dominant.
    “So, Boss, we got problems,” said Kwango with a broad