X
Quatermass and the UFOs.
Invaded Village.
Tracking down the crashed moon probe wasn't hard once they had gotten the fix, and once they had it thanks to their own ground stations and the other radar stations in those regions of the country, the British Rocket Group got out instantly. The crash tenders and the recovery vehicles were always on standby when a rocket was returning and the team had learnt long ago to always be ready. The journey was a long one that lasted close to three hours, and Bernard Quatermass spent much of the journey in silence as he went with several of his trusted engineers and crash experts.
Also along for the ride was Colonel Barnaby and several soldiers, they were coming primarily to investigate the strange object which came down with it. The radar tracks had shown specifically there was a second trace, and it had come down with the probe, and it was the second radar trace which was on the minds of virtually everyone.
"We've been working on a moon flight ever since the day we set up the BRG," Cullen shook his head. "All our tests, the endless training, the orbits shots, the probes, the satellites we sent up, the experiments in nuclear fission needed to send a rocket into space on a journey to the moon….all of it could have gone up in smoke!"
Quatermass knew it wasn't a good idea to be negative, but he knew how Cullen felt. The moon flight and the possibilities behind it had always been inspirational to him, especially after he had read The First Men in the Moon. "We don't know that, not yet," he said.
"Yeah, you might be right," Cullen conceded with a wry nod. "Hopefully we'll get some answers about what that thing was."
"It couldn't have been a Russian spacecraft, could it?" One of the engineers who hadn't been in the tracking room asked.
The question was a perfectly logical one. The British were not the only ones involved and interested in space flight and the possibilities that came with it. The Russians and the Americans were conducting their own research, and not so long ago, the Russians had launched their first space capsule that was manned, and with irritating arrogance, the Russians had claimed space without going further at this point, but they foresaw the same possibilities of what space could offer them, and the possibilities were endless, with new sources of minerals and new exotic elements and they were really close and present within the solar system itself.
And it wasn't just minerals.
There was plenty of room out in the solar system for colonies, space colonies could be constructed and humanity could spread out across the solar system, and the population would flourish with virtually unlimited resources to sustain them. That was currently impossible on Earth; while a suitably large planet in its own right, Earth wasn't that large, and there was a finite amount of food to go around. And there was history, recent history at that, where food shortages occurred. And not just food, what about minerals, and fuels?
Quatermass shook his head. "No, ever since the Russians sent Gagarin up in the Sputnik capsule, they've pretty much-claimed space for themselves. But they're no more advanced than we are. They don't have the technology needed to build a spacecraft that was as speedy as the one on the radar screen."
"Nor does anybody else," Barnaby mused grimly.
"No," Quatermass agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "And that's what worries me, because if nobody else has an advanced spacecraft, who else does?"
"We're almost there, Professor Quatermass," the driver suddenly said.
Quatermass looked out of the windows and he saw that the driver was right. And he could see there were already fires out. He cursed irritably, but then he checked the map as he remembered something the radar technicians had told him before they'd left. "We're not far from a village," he said. "Less than a couple of miles."
"So?" Barnaby shrugged, but Cullen, who had been present during the experimental rocket which unleashed that mess with the plant clicked his fingers. "It doesn't look like there's anyone around," he said.
"Exactly," Quatermass nodded gravely. "Every time we've crashed something like a test probe, or a satellite, there's almost somebody there to interfere and get in the way, and there's a village not far from here. They'd have gotten here in the blink of an eye compared to us, so why aren't they here? Where are the police? The ambulances? The fire engines?"
The same engineer who'd asked about Russians rubbed his eyes as they drew into the field and came closer to the crashed probe, and he cursed. "Oh, great," he hissed.
"What's wrong?" Barnaby demanded.
"The rocket probe has crashed, and it is not meant to," Cullen sighed as he explained. "When we designed the rocket probe, we spent time designing it to be controlled by remote, but we also designed it to land like a conventional aeroplane."
"It's not practical for a rocket to keep crashing; everyone and everything inside the spacecraft might be bruised, or worse, so we designed it with safe, smooth landings in mind. It is just not practical for a spacefaring culture to crash-land all the time," Quatermass said.
"I guess that makes sense," Barnaby commented as the car came to a stop. When he got out of the car, Barnaby and everyone else who got out with him felt the heat, even if they weren't next to the spacecraft; but from their current distance, they might as well have been face to face with a blast furnace.
The BRG rocket retrieval team and crash control team got to work instantly, moving with practiced ease, unloading equipment and hydraulic winches into position while the firemen who were part of both teams suited up in their overalls and they hooked up hoses to pumps connected to water and CO2 tanks to cool the rocket probe down. As the teams moved into position, Quatermass was gently walking around the crash site as best as he could, and he could tell a great deal as he waved his Geiger counter around, hearing the gentle clicking from the nuclear power source as he tried to hold down his disappointment.
All these months of work, and the useless thing still crashed. After completing a couple of circuits around the crash site, Quatermass saw there was little he could do here. He walked over to Cullen and Barnaby. "Will you be alright working on this for yourself?" He asked Cullen.
"You're not going to watch?" Cullen asked.
"No, I want to take a look in that village nearby; we've crashed dozens of test rockets in the past, and there's usually been some attention and when this rocket came down someone should have seen it burning up in the atmosphere or at least heard the bang, and besides I want to concentrate on something else instead of this latest mess," Quatermass pointed at the crash, "and I need to work out where we will need to go from here."
Both Cullen and Quatermass knew the plans for the expedition to the moon were on a strict timetable. Putting it off would cause more problems with the current administration in the government, and Quatermass was really not interested in garnering more grief. The good news was the BRG had three other prototypes like this, so they had time to complete this stage in the planned trip to the moon, but this was still frustrating. Quatermass had planned to use those test rockets for other purposes, not to replace this thing.
"If it's all the same to you, Professor Quatermass, I would like to come with you to the village," Barnaby said.
Quatermass tried not to react too strongly to that. He had come to like Barnaby, who was a little more open-minded than Breen, who'd proven to be beyond close to new possibilities when the unearthed Martian craft was found in London. But he didn't see the point of Barnaby coming along with him. "I don't see why-," he began.
"Professor, I know you don't want me or my men around, but I am useless here, and besides I want to ask you a few questions. In private," Barnaby said, "And at the same time, I would like to see if there are any signs of the powered object that were seen near the rocket. With the two of us, we can investigate what's happening more effectively."
Quatermass sighed when he realised the soldier was not going to take no for an answer. "Oh, alright," he sighed. "Good luck," he said to Cullen.
"You too."
X
"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Quatermass asked. They were barely halfway to the village before he asked the question.
Barnaby took a deep breath as he thought through the best way to phrase his questions. "You don't like me or my men, do you, Professor?"
Quatermass was surprised by the blunt question. "I don't know what you mean…," he said, hoping that he didn't have to offend the soldier.
In the dim lighting, Barnaby's expression was sour and unimpressed. "Professor, I'm a military man, but I'm not a fool. I know you're resentful to the MoD for taking over your work and pushing a more militaristic agenda down your throat, but it's for the good of our survival."
The simplicity of that last statement annoyed Quatermass. "As I told that Ministry meeting, there's no such thing as an ultimate weapon."
"Perhaps not, Professor," Barnaby conceded, "I think there are enough horrors out there that shouldn't be used, but if we dismiss one, another country likely won't, and will have no hesitation in using them. I like you, Professor. I have given you a lot of leeway and freedom within your British Rocket Group because I agree with you we should be exploring space, but shouldn't we also be prepared to protect ourselves? That's our point of view, Professor. I can see the benefits of having a moon research colony, just like I can picture a military outpost on the moon."
"Oh, I can understand the logic of using rockets as weapons, dear chap," Quatermass said as they walked down the country lane towards the village, both of them prepared to get out of the way in case there was a car, "I saw proof of that when the Germans launched those doodlebugs, I just want to change the vision of rockets as weapons of mass destruction. They're the most practical means of getting people out into space, and all governments want to do is transform them into bigger, worse, weapons of war."
"I know how you feel, really I do. There's been too much war, and the world is still incredibly tense with the rebuilding from the war. But I am also a Colonel of the British army, Professor. I have to think about the greater good of Britain, and right now your research can give us the means to prevent a war. Wouldn't you want a world where it looked unlikely?" Barnaby asked.
Quatermass nodded. "Alright, I admit it, I would. I saw too many of my friends and family die in that war, like so many others, but I wish we didn't have to resort to war to solve problems."
"Right now, the threat of nuclear war is keeping that from happening, nobody's stupid enough to be blasted to atoms by the blast of a nuclear bomb, and the moon would offer another line of defence and protection," Barnaby frowned as they reached the village. "It's very quiet, isn't it?" He commented uneasily, his mind recalling all of the times he had been frightened of vampires and werewolves.
"You're right. I can't hear anything," Quatermass shone his light at his watch. "It's not even midnight."
"So?"
"Well, the pub should be full, there's usually a lot of noise in a pub at night," Quatermass explained.
"Oh, yes, right," Barnaby muttered abashed before he cleared his throat.
The two men rushed forwards when they saw three bodies on the ground.