Forbidden Planets by Peter Crowther (Ed) Read Free Book Online Page A

term.” Marley slid into a chair. “Lehr’s dying, I’m fairly certain. In this environment, one must assume cancer or radiation poisoning. How he lasted this long is more than a small mystery. Delusional, of course, too, seeing green fields beyond his inner horizon. Gentlemen, how are we now?”
    “Shut up,” Beaumont suggested.
    “We are being signaled,” Deckard added, emerging from his hood. He touched the personal comm unit strapped to his wrist. A cluster of microphones and screens and speaker grilles unfolded from the overhead.
    “Attention Six Degrees ,” said a strange, flat voice, the caller devoid of emotion or inflection. I could not even determine whether it was a man or woman who spoke. “Do you copy?”
    “This is Six Degrees , de Vere commanding,” I replied in my crispest training academy voice, waving madly at Deckard to indicate that he should track the source of the signal. “Please identify yourself.”
    “I am Ray Gun.”
    I exchanged glances with my command crew. Beaumont’s face was sour and pinched . . . he never had a sense of humor nor an imagination. The others displayed varying degrees of thoughtful interest, though Marley was smiling strangely behind his hand.
    “And you are who and where . . . ?”
    Deckard flashed one of Heminge’s photo prints, an image of one hemisphere of this world as shot from our approach to the planet. He circled it with his finger.
    “Orbit?” I mouthed.
    My chief engineer nodded.
    How could that be? But an unknown agency of Lehr’s in orbit was no stranger than what we had already seen. The associated comm lag explained the strange rhythm of this conversation, for one.
    “Ray Gun. I am one of Lehr’s daughters. Bound to Cathar, who loves me as the stars love the horizons of evening.”
    Marley twirled one index finger around his temple.
    For a woman, Ray Gun had a remarkably sexless voice. Not for her the tingling tones of Cordel’s strong contralto, an overlay of womanly charm and matronly discipline that went straight to my gut . . . and other parts. Ray Gun’s strangeness made me wonder about this Cathar.
    “And you are in orbit, Ray Gun?” I said. “How may I help you?”
    Deckard shook his head, while Beaumont looked increasingly sour. I knew perfectly well what both of my officers were about . . . trying to puzzle how there were more women in this place—unless Lehr had begat children on Cordel, shortly after arrival. But who would place a girl-child in orbit—and how ? Why? This world was a conundrum and then some.
    “My father has divided his kingdom between the best of his daughters,” said Ray Gun primly. “We who love him most shall carry his standard. It is I who rule the skies above.”
    Deckard was back under the sensor hood, Marley made more notes, while Beaumont now stalked the deck in angry thought, glaring at me as Heminge watched him carefully. I glared back. Perhaps I could leave him here with the madmen and women.
    “I’m very pleased to hear that,” I told her.
    “Good.” Ray Gun’s voice fell silent a moment. Then: “Do not listen to Cordel. She will betray the king my father’s dream. You should leave. Cathar says so, and he is never wrong.”
    I was leaning toward Marley’s theory. “Thank you for the information.”
    “Cathar and Kern will move against her soon. Best you stay away. Leave now, Six Degrees , while your purpose and dignity are intact.”
    Who the hell was Kern? “I shall take your remarks under advisement.”
    “Ray Gun out.”
    I looked at my command crew. They stared back at me, Deckard emerging from the sensor hood.
    “That was very strange,” Heminge said.
    Deckard nodded. “I got a signal lock. It’s one of those metallic objects I found earlier. Command section would seem to be likely.”
    “So who is Ray Gun? Not to mention Cathar and Kern?”
    Beaumont swung around, breaking the momentum of his pacing to face me with barely suppressed menace, as if he thought I was to be