The Shores of Death Read Online Free Page B

him and her nails dig into his back as she gasped:
    “Oh, Clovis! Oh, you stallion ! ”

three Memento Mori

    The ship came silently down. It landed on the deserted field in the cool dawn. It was a big, complex ship of a golden plastic alloy that was turned to deep red by the rising sun. It landed in a faint whisper of sound, a murmur of apology, as if aware that its presence was unwelcome.
    Three figures started forward over the yielding surface of the spacefield. In the distance, to their right, were the abandoned hangars and control rooms of the field, slim buildings of pale yellow and blue.
    The voice in Clovis’s ear-bead said: “Shall we open up?”
    “You might as well,” he said.
    As they reached the circular ship, the lock began to open, twenty feet above them. They paused, listening —listening for a familiar sound, a sick sound they didn’t want to hear.
    They didn’t hear it.
    Drifting up on their gravstraps, they paused at the open airlock. Clovis looked at Fastina. “We know what to expect—you don’t. Are you sure—?”
    “Yes.”
    Narvo Velusi pursed his lips. “Let’s go in.” The old man led the way through the airlock into a short passage.
    The first body was there. It was a woman’s body. It was naked, contorted and it stank. The grey flesh was filthy, the hair matted, the upturned face was twisted, the eyes wide, lips snarling back from the teeth, the cheeks hollow. The flesh showed signs of laceration and the woman’s fingernails seemed imbedded in her right breast.
    Fastina turned away. “I didn’t realise— ” She went quickly back. “I’ll be outside.”
    Clovis sighed. “Jara Feraz, I think, Narvo. Twelve years conditioning, training...” He shuddered as he drifted over the body. “Less than six months out— and this.”
    The ship was silent. In the main control cabin they found two others. A man’s body lay over a woman’s and she seemed to be embracing him, the rictus of her mouth giving her the appearance of revelling in some obscene joy, though Clovis guessed she had been trying to ward the man off. The remains of the other three were also there—bones. Some of the bones had been gnawed, some split. Face grim, Narvo operated the door to the galley. He glanced inside.
    “Enough supplies for at least another eighteen months,” he said. “We made the controls of everything simple enough, in case this should happen. All they had to do was break the seals on the packs.”
    “But they didn’t. You’d think they’d retain some survival instincts, however primitive.”
    “Isn’t that a definition of madness, Clovis—something which makes you act against your natural instincts? Look—that’s how we lost contact.” He pointed at the smashed cameras above. Their protective cases had been torn open. Everything breakable had been broken. Machinery was twisted, papers torn, streamers of microtape programmes were scattered everywhere.
    Clovis picked up a length and waved it. “The party’s over,” he said. “I don’t think they enjoyed it.”
    Narvo shook his head. “All those tests, all those years of training them, conditioning them, all the precautions we took. They were intelligent people, Clovis— they knew what to expect and how to fight it. They had courage, initiative, common sense and fantastic self-control—yet in six months they become insane, bestial— travesties—grotesque animals, more debased than we can guess—” He glanced at the wall in which the galley door was set. He pointed at the pictures drawn on it in what could have been human blood. “That sort of thing comes early. We can’t get out of the galaxy, Clovis. We should have realised it before we began the project. None of this crew was born on Earth—but their grandparents were. How many generations would it take?”
    “There’s only another to go,” Clovis said.
    Narvo rubbed his face. “Shall we revive one? We could do it for about ten minutes if they’re not too far