The Ultimate Hell

Jeffrey Mark De La Noye

Copyright (c)1990

Kyklos Matlock looked up at the pale blue sky of Hygess above him, his long dark hair blowing in the wind. A snowbird wheeled above, circling over some prey that had earlier succumbed to the cold. Though many things were adapted to the harsh environment north of Hygess' equator, there was always a limit to one's tolerance. The northern hemisphere of Hygess was cold, but to a native like Matlock, the cold was comforting.

His eyes met the metropolitan community of Icelandia on the horizon, his destination. He could hear the distant sound of skimobiles as they scudded off in the distance, and they reminded him of Ford Bedcoe, his friend, who had taken off on a skimobile several hours before. Matlock regretted the argument which caused his flight, but he could see nothing that he could have done, personally, that Ford would not have objected to. Depressed by the fight and alone in the hotel room, Matlock decided to take a comforting walk across the wilderness, and it was now time to return.

The wind blew a bit harder and Matlock pulled his hood over his head and his furskin jacket closer. It was only a few more miles to Icelandia, he kept reminding himself. Only a few more miles.

The sun set and soon the sky was a murky gray. Matlock's stride became shorter and his footsteps fell closer together. Only a few more miles.

The cold black sky with its many stars faced Matlock when, exhausted, he fell over backwards onto the cold snow. He was only a few miles from Icelandia .

Then he heard the sound of skimobiles, and it was the last thing he heard until his friend Ford Bedcoe called to him and lifted him up and into Bedcoe's own skimobile.

``Matlock!'' Bedcoe called, ``Matlock!''

``Matlock!'' Bedcoe called, and at once Matlock woke with a start. He opened his eyes and instead of the dark night he saw the cold gray tungsten-steel alloy side of the Total Survival Suit that he lay face down in. He suddenly realized that he had been dreaming of an event that had happened some months ago. Now, in the TSS, the extremes of the planet Tartarus once again revealed themselves to him.

Matlock looked around and realized where he was. He rubbed his eyes and looked into the viewer, where he saw Bedcoe's concerned face looking at him.

``Oh, hello, Ford.'' he said sleepily.

``Hello indeed! Your EKG was going wild. I thought you were hurt.''

Matlock smiled. ``No, I was just dreaming... about that time I almost froze out near Icelandia on my home world. Oh, by the way, I don't think I ever thanked you for that.''

Bedcoe shrugged in modesty and smirked. ``I think you did. Besides, I couldn't let you die. You were the only transportation I had off that iceball.''

Matlock tried to reposition himself in the vehicle, only to fail. The TSS was so low and close to his back that he couldn't stand if he wanted to, and it restricted his movements considerably. Bedcoe had always complained about that, and Matlock had to agree. The surface temperature of Tartarus, thirteenth planet of the solar system, was so cold that it drew heat away from any source, so the less area needed to heat the better.

Early expeditions on Tartarus had been conducted in actual suits, but it was discovered that a human's own personal locomotion couldn't handle the cold of the planet or the distances covered, no matter how well padded and heated the suit. So H-shaped vehicles were created that crawled along the ground ``on all fours''. Though actually vehicles, they were still called total survival suits.

The TSS was shaped like a person with outstretched arms and legs, within which the driver's own extremities fit. Cybernetic controls were placed in the hand and footpads of the suit to control its various functions. The suit's own housekeeping chores, such as heating and ventilation, were controlled by a separate computer independent of the driver.

As can be expected, the total survival suit completely protected its occupant from the outside. It had to. The atmosphere outside the thick tungsten-steel suit was -200 degrees Fahrenheit and any exposed part of a person would freeze solid instantly. Tartarus received 1/1000 the energy from the sun than the Earth does, and Sirius is brighter in Tartarus' sky than the sun.

It was, in fact, impossible to tell if it was day or night unless you knew which dim object in the sky was the sun, for there wasn't enough light coming to Tartarus to cause any kind of colored sky. Like everything else on Tartarus, time was frozen.

Matlock lightly tapped his fingers to the cybernetic controls in the handpads of his TSS and the feeding mechanism revved up. A machine inside the TSS boiled carbon dioxide out of the rocky surface of Tartarus. It disassociated the carbon dioxide into carbon and oxygen. The oxygen was breathable when combined with nitrogen from the waste processor, and when combined with free hydrogen from the atmosphere created water. The carbon, when combined with other elements from the rock became a suitable waybread, high in carbohydrates and some protein, but low in fats. It didn't keep them healthy, but it kept them alive.

Bedcoe spoke into Matlock's intercom. ``Can't hold out that extra mile, can you?'' he joked.

Matlock smiled back at him. ``just thought we'd have a picnic. It's a nice enough view, isn't it? Besides, I didn't notice you fasting back there at Tyomni Zvezda.''

They had just come from Tyomni Zvezda, an area on Tartarus that was proposed as a permanent spaceport on the planet. While there, they had set up a denamit, a device that drilled deep into the planet where there was heat. The drill brought the heat up to the surface, where it stimulated the growth of crystals that grew geodetically. As the crystals grew, they formed a dome, which also held heat in. The denamit was never turned off, because it heated the dome continually, but the rate at which it drew heat could be slowed so that the dome didn't continue to expand. The main city of Tartarus, Krasni, had been created this way. The crystals would take at least a month to grow to the right size, so in that time Matlock and Bedcoe were heading back to Krasni, their home on the barren, frozen world. There were only a dozen people on Tartarus, and ten of them were currently at Krasni.

The food that Matlock was eating was a spherical gray lump that was the product of the food processor. He looked at it with disdain. ``I can't wait to get back to Krasni,'' he said solemnly, thinking of the real food both of them had enjoyed just before they left Krasni. This tour of duty was starting to get to both of them. The harshness of the environment was one thing. People had to crawl around in these small boxes with very little extra space, and there was no real food to speak of. The supply ship to Krasni came once every two weeks, and so a few days ago he and Bedcoe had eaten actual meat. It had been delicious, but it gave him the impression of being a last supper.

While Matlock ate, Bedcoe adjusted his camera so that he could see the distant Ural Montes that they would have to climb over to get to Krasni. Krasni was tucked away in Grierson Vallis, a small valley in the Ural range. Above the upper peaks of the mountains was the ever black sky and the dim stars. A particularly dim star was setting behind the middle peak.

Matlock stuffed the remainder of the waybread into his mouth and touched the cybernetic contact that moved the tractor skids underneath the machine. There were four caterpillar tracks, one under each handpad and footpad. By gently pressing on the steering contact on each side of the machine, Matlock was able to maneuver the TSS in the direction of the Ural Montes. He touched the contacts on his TSS and began the trackwork. Slowly at first they turned, testing the strength of the ``snow'' underneath, making micro-adjustments until the TSS master computer was sure that the snow underneath the TSS could support motion. Then, when all the adjustments were completed, the TSS tracks revved up to full speed. The headlights flashed on and lit a wide patch of the frozen blackness before them. Soon both TSSs were crawling quickly up the foothills of the Ural Montes.

Bedcoe spoke into the intercom. ``What's the hurry? Wait for me; I don't want to be left alone out here.''

Matlock was silent for a moment. Bedcoe sure was getting grumpy; had been for the past day. ``I want to get home, `` Matlock said. Bedcoe wasn't sure of his meaning. Home for them now was the city of Krasni, and had been for the last six months when they had joined the Frontier Corps. Since Matlock was from Hygess, originally, that could equally have been his meaning.

Hygess, Matlock's home world, was divided politically, geographically, and culturally into the Frozen North and the Sunny South.

Matlock was from the North, but even he was unused to the mile upon mile of snow, or whatever this stuff was. Matlock was never sure what to call the mantle of Tartarus. He had played in the snow on Hygess when he was younger, but this frozen matter was nothing like that. All he knew was that it was instant peril to whoever touched it.

Bedcoe quirked. ``Does this place remind you of home?''

Matlock grunted into the microphone. ``Hygess isn't this bad, Bedcoe. It's a beautiful world. I can't understand why you hate it so. It can't be because of the cold, or else you wouldn't have come here.''

``There's a difference between these two worlds, Kyklos. On Hygess a certain amount of discomfort--cold--is physically acceptable. Which is why you collapsed that day near Icelandia. So long as you were moderately warm and in no danger of frostbite, it was okay. However, on Tartarus, no amount of cold is acceptable. Right now it's about 60 degrees farenheight in my TSS. I feel fine. In a way, Hyges is colder than Tartarus, at least from a certain point of view.

``Plus, I'm doing some real good here. Earth needs a place to store her space fleet, one far from Earth. It would do no good to fight the Cygonians close to Earth. We need room to fight. We need room to grow and expand as an Empire. There's no room left in this system; it's too close in here.

``I'm getting paid for being here too. I don't get paid for galloping around on an isolated member world.''

``I know that,'' Matlock said, ``But didn't you enjoy yourself?'' he asked. ``I thought it would be good to get away, after your brother...''

``Don't say another word about that,'' he said, suddenly becoming intensely grim, and Matlock could tell from the EKG and common sense that Bedcoe was sincere about it.

Matlock remembered what Jonas Radcliffe, the Governor of Krasni, had told him soon after the incident. Ford Bedcoe's brother Urich had just been killed, and Bedcoe was a bit shaken up by it.

``He needs a vacation, `` Radcliffe had told Matlock, once he had found a seat in Radcliffe's sparse gray office at Krasni. ``Don't talk to him about his brother--at least, not much. Not for the first few days. He's in a kind of waking shock, and there's no telling what could happen to him in that state.''

Matlock had shifted uneasily. ``So what can I do? Ford's my friend and I want to help him, but I don't know how.''

``Take him on a vacation. Take him to a place that you think he'll be very fond of.''

Matlock had smiled. He had known just the place.

Or at least, he had thought he did. He had miscalculated, though. A Hygean, if he's from the north, is more sensitive to different climates. To Matlock, Hygess was as different from Tartarus as Tartarus was from Hygess. But Bedcoe, who was from Earth, saw Tartarus and Hygess as almost the same place. Being in a place so like where his brother died did Bedcoe more harm than good. After a week, when Matlock had finally realized his critical error, he had offered to take Bedcoe to Hygess' warmer southern hemisphere, but Bedcoe wanted to leave the planet as soon as possible. His need to return to Tartarus was no doubt spurred by his need to return to work, not to mope over his brother.

Matlock remembered the night the two of them spent in that small bar in Icelandia, and hoped the trip hadn't been a total loss.

Bedcoe turned to look at the thermometer. It was very sensitive because the Sun didn't give off enough heat to register a change on normal thermometers when night came along. Night, of course, was purely mathematical; there was never a day on Tartarus that either Bedcoe or Matlock would recognize. Only endless night and a constantly star-filled sky, with a faint object in the background known as Sol.

``The outside temperature's gone down a degree'' Bedcoe reported. ``Night must be falling.''

Matlock nodded sullenly. Night was an ever-present disease that riddled the sky of Tartarus, threatening to infect them all.

The two vehicles pulled along for miles, steadily and quickly climbing up the slopes, through the valleys, while their pilots laid face down in suspension webbing. The TSS required very little human interaction, once its occupant told it what to do.

As time lagged on, Bedcoe became edgy and began conversation, no matter how dispirited.

``Hey, Matlock.''

``Yeh?'' Matlock looked up from his private thoughts.

Bedcoe shifted. ``Once I remember that my mother had this speeder, you know, kind of like the skimobiles they used on Hygess, remember?''

``Yeah. I used to have several skimobiles when I was younger...''

Bedcoe cut him off. ``The speeders my parents had were these gargantuan things-- they reminded me of the automobiles that Earth used to have in her past. My parents used to always take me in them to the shopping complex near Bosn. One day, I decided to drive one myself. I had no trouble getting in, but I didn't know how to start it. Then, when I tried to get out, I couldn't. The door automatically locks, you know. It can be opened from inside, but I didn't know how. I screamed for hours, until my parents found me...''

``Were you injured?''

``No, not at all,'' Bedcoe was quick to add, ``It's just that I had been stuck in there for so long...''

Matlock thought of the similarity between the TSS and the speeder that Bedcoe was talking about, and hoped it wouldn't affect him. As Bedcoe had said, that happened a long time ago. Matlock wondered if it was long enough.

Four hours later, the two TSSs had finally reached the top of Gamma Mensa, the tallest point in the Ural range. Because of the hard-driving wind of Tartarus, most mountains tended to be small. Gamma Mensa was more a plateau than a mountain, and it wasn't much larger than Mt. Washington.

Suddenly the TSSs halted. Matlock's TSS was at the edge of a cliff; Bedcoe's was perpendicular to a fissure that had opened up about two months ago, and the opposite side of the fissure was slightly higher than Bedcoe's side, owing to the fact that some matter had piled up on top of it recently. The two TSSs instantly acted to remove their pilots from danger. The tracks wheeled almost subtly so as not to upset the balance of the vehicles, and then they slowly backed up until the two were out of danger.

Matlock spoke into the intercom. ``There's something wrong,'' he said, adjusting the TSS tracks so that they would continue in the correct direction. ``This isn't the usual path across the mountains. Where were you leading us?''

Bedcoe panned his camera back and forth across the ice wall in front of him. ``Yeah. It looks familiar though. Maybe this is our usual picnic spot. You know, there's something about this area...''

Matlock had a flashing memory of the area, and remembered that this was near where Bedcoe had lost his brother. Their being here couldn't be a coincidence; Bedcoe had led Matlock, subconsciously, to this location, where his brother and the others had been lost. On Tartarus, bodies were never recovered; the risk to the living was too great, so markers were carved into the ice.

Matlock slowly panned the camera around, not wanting to see what he had to see. But it was there, chiseled in the ice:

Here Urich Bedcoe and his crew of five were lost when their vehicles exploded from internal pressure leaks. God have mercy on their souls.

Urich Bedcoe Shawn Benjamin

Ernie Hardin Elwell Shaw

Uwe Smith Martin Balfour

Matlock was sure he shouldn't say anything; it would be best if Bedcoe forgot.

Matlock repositioned the camera so that it faced out over the edge of Gamma Mensa. Bedcoe attempted to do the same thing but his TSS wouldn't let him; it was still trying to get him safely away from the precipice.

``Kyklos, I can't move. Could you send your image through to my camera?''

``Sure,'' Matlock responded.

Seconds later, the image of the clear ice wall in front of Bedcoe flickered and was replaced by the image Matlock sent him.

The image they both saw was that of Grierson Vallis, the small area crouched between Gamma Mensa and Delta Mensa that held Krasni. It was tucked in the valley because the high-velocity winds of Tartarus would have destroyed the dome of Krasni had it not had the windshadow of the Ural Montes to protect it. Beyond that was a terrible white expanse of nothing, an everlasting ice field that would never melt. All the planets this far out-- Erebus, Hades, Tartarus-- were all named after the various levels of the Underworld in Greek mythology. They were named for their desolation, their remoteness.

Right now, here in this spot, was the Land of the Dead.

Matlock noticed that Bedcoe's systems monitor was showing unusually high perspiration, blood pressure, and heartbeat.

``Are you okay?'' Matlock ventured. A pang of fear struck him when Bedcoe didn't answer for some time. Finally, Bedcoe answered.

``Hm? Oh, sorry, Matlock. I was lost in thought. Is it warm in here, or is it me? I was certain I had more footroom before...''

Matlock believed that the Bedcoe was thinking about his brother's death. It wasn't Ford's fault that the internal pressure systems of six TSSs, including his brother's, had exploded, leaving only Bedcoe alive. Nonetheless Bedcoe was convinced that he had done something wrong, that it had been his fault.

He said, ``Bedcoe, you have your thoughts to yourself. And your privacy. There's no one else around for miles. No one will see you until you get to Krasni.''

Bedcoe seemed alarmed. ``Don't remind me,'' he said. ``I'm totally isolated.'' He turned the TSS around so that it could return back the way they came, since they had come the wrong way. He tried to stay away from the fissure directly in front of him.

Matlock became concerned for Bedcoe. He wasn't sure if Bedcoe was being melodramatic or not. He thought he knew his friend, but the behavior he had displayed these last few days on Tartarus had been uncharacteristic of him; Matlock wished they were back in that bar on Hygess now, sipping Hygean skyros and commenting on the hardy women who often frequented the place.

He knew that Bedcoe did not trust the TSS, and wondered what measures Bedcoe might take to alleviate this. It seemed that he was beginning to show symptoms of TSS Syndrome, a condition that often affects people who are unused to the complete lack of human contact for an extended period of time that the TSS requires. The sudden thought chilled his mind. Quickly, he maneuvered the TSS to follow Bedcoe.

Bedcoe did not speak for some time. Instead, from the brain patterns transmitted to Matlock from Bedcoe, he could tell that he was probably deep in thought. Matlock knew that he was thinking about his brother. Apparently, Icelandia was not the best place to take him for vacation.

On top of his self-inflicted guilt, Bedcoe was suffering from TSS Syndrome. If he should become paranoid that he would never touch a human being again, then he might become claustrophobic, and then... Matlock had never seen what a completely frozen human being looked like, but the grisly stories he had heard frightened him to consider that possibility.

A terrible anxiety came over him. The thought of Bedcoe dying was a horrible one, but perhaps more horrible was the idea of himself becoming totally alone. Back in his mind, Matlock knew that he was more worried about being alone than of Bedcoe dying, but in a burst of self-denial he convinced himself that it was not so.

Suddenly the loose snow beneath Bedcoe's TSS gave way, and the TSS went with it. The EKG in Matlock's machine showed an alarming rise in Bedcoe's blood pressure and heartbeat, but that was to be expected.

Matlock's fears were allayed when the EKG showed a quick, but fairly normal heartbeat. Matlock turned on his intercom.

``Bedcoe, buddy, how's the weather down there?''

``Rotten, `` Bedcoe returned, ``Next stupid question.'' Matlock smiled. At least Bedcoe's sense of humor had survived the fall. He surveyed the situation; Bedcoe's toppled TSS lay in a snow heap twenty feet below Matlock. From what he could see, Bedcoe's TSS was undamaged. It was designed to take heavy damage, anyway. Bedcoe's voice returned through the intercom, but had gained a timbre of anxiety. ``C'mon, Matlock. Get me out of here. It's spooky.''

Matlock was on the edge of the cliff that Bedcoe had been on a few minutes ago, twenty feet above Bedcoe's current position. He saw no foreseeable way to get down to Bedcoe without falling himself, as Bedcoe had done. His TSS would probably survive, but how would he get out?

None of this, he thought. I'm becoming cynical like Bedcoe.

All TSSs were equipped with winches. The designers assumed such falls would happen. The difficult part was anchoring his TSS to a fixed position, so that he wouldn't be pulled into the ditch, too.

With his left foot Matlock activated the Anchor Drill, and it revved up and drilled deep into the ground underneath Matlock's chest. The vibration made Matlock's ribs sore. With his right hand he activated the winch in the front of the TSS. Slowly the winch-line dropped the twenty feet to Bedcoe's TSS.

He hadn't heard from Bedcoe in some time. ``Matlock to Bedcoe. What's up?''

``You are,'' Bedcoe said. Matlock winced.

``What can you see?'' Matlock asked.

``Not much--hey, there's people down here!''

Matlock gasped. ``You mean, people in TSSs?'' They weren't late; there was no reason for Radcliffe so send out a search party. If he had, he surely would have told them.

Bedcoe sounded urgent. ``No, just people. Six of them. They're reaching out to me. I must help them--''

Suddenly the transmission cut out. Matlock panicked and was able to attach the winchline to Bedcoe's TSS. He reversed the winch engine and it started to pull Bedcoe's TSS out. However, in his panic Matlock hadn't attached the winchline well enough. The snow beneath Matlock's TSS couldn't take the strain and it gave way, toppling into the ditch, as well.

Matlock was unharmed, and so was his TSS, but he had no idea what delusions Bedcoe was under. If Bedcoe did see humans, they were surely dead and frozen. They had to be humans; there was no other life on the planet. Or Bedcoe might just be hallucinating: another symptom of TSS Syndrome.

Matlock's panic continued to grow. He opened a channel to Krasni, and secured it.

``Matlock to Radcliffe,'' he called, thumping his hand dully on the side of the TSS in frustration. ``Come in, please.''

After an eternity Jonas Radcliffe's voice came in. ``This is Radcliffe, What's the problem?''

Matlock almost dropped the mike. ``Bedcoe's starting to see things. I hink he's suffering from TSS Syndrome.''

Radcliffe did not speak for some time. When he did, the alarm was evident in his voice. ``That's not good. I knew it was too early to let him out, so soon after his brother died. He wanted so much to help, though...''

Matlock interrupted him. ``What do I do now?'

Radcliffe came back. ``What's your position?''

Matlock said slowly, ``Gamma Mensa--right near his brother's grave.''

``Oh, boy,'' Radcliffe uttered, silently. ``Keep him there, keep him safe. I'm coming out now with a TSS.''

Matlock swallowed. Slowly Matlock's TSS crawled over to Bedcoe's position. Bedcoe had righted his TSS, and now Matlock saw it moving towards an ice wall reaching up hundreds of feet. The surface was shiny and reflected the headlights well.

As Matlock inched along, the surface of the ice wall became muddier. Distinct shapes appeared in the ice.

Matlock froze, his fingers involuntarily releasing the cybernetic pads. His face felt hot, when he realized what the shapes were.

Human beings. The humans Bedcoe had mentioned, frozen solid. Every cell in each of their bodies had instantly crystalized. All the cell membranes had ruptured, causing the protoplasm within to rush out and swell the body, only to be instantly frozen.

Their bodies were stretched out in the ice, expanded from the rush of fluids. Mouths were open with shock, eyes wide with terror.

Matlock aimed his camera at the edge of the fissure behind him that they had earlier been on. He saw arms alone sticking out of the ice where it had cracked. One of the bodies in the ice wall in front of him lacked an arm. Matlock felt sick. His head swam. He reached over to the intercom and established contact with Bedcoe.

``Bedcoe, they don't need your help. They're too far gone. They're... frozen stiff.'' A thought crossed his mind, and he dismissed it. He didn't need his mind cluttered with macabre thoughts. He concentrated on how he was going to get out of this. He hoped Radcliffe would hurry.

``You're wrong,'' Bedcoe said, with a bit of hope to his voice. ``They're human, like me. I'm going to greet them.'' He signed off.

Matlock felt a pain in his chest.

All TSSs had hatches, but none of the hatches would open unless the air above was at least 60 degrees F, or if another TSS was on top, in which case the temperature of the second TSS would be 60 degrees. TSSs seldom docked, only so that the two could establish human contact or confer face to face. It was discouraged, though, since it was dangerous.

Matlock knew that sometimes it had become necessary to override the system to open the hatch, but this was extremely difficult and only really skilled people could do it. Matlock had an awful thought that Bedcoe was just so skilled.

Perhaps, he thought, if I can climb above his TSS, then I can board it, and rescue him, or at least stop him from leaving. He pressed the single cybernetic contact that controlled docking, selected ``above'' when it asked for direction, and tensely waited, hoping that the TSS computer could handle the operation quickly enough to save Bedcoe, or at least hold him until Radcliffe came.

While he waited, he thought he might try to persuade Bedcoe not to leave. ``Bedcoe, I'm sure that those people will get help from someone else. You can't help.'' He was hoping that maybe he could enter Bedcoe's strange world and help him out of it by going along with him.

Bedcoe sneered into the mike. ``Wrong, Matlock. I have to help. See, there's my brother there--if only I can get this darn computer to open the hatch...'' He signed out.

Matlock was certain that Bedcoe was delirious. As of yet Bedcoe had only seen the outlines of the people in the ice. If he saw the frozen corpse of his brother up close, there was no telling what he would do. For a chilling moment, Matlock feared his own life.

The TSS had nearly completed the docking when Matlock heard an odd drilling sound. For a minute he thought it was Radcliffe, but then he recognized it. He panned his camera around and saw that Bedcoe had given up trying to get out of the TSS and was trying to release the frozen bodies using the anchoring drill. If Bedcoe succeeded, the entire ice wall could fall on them both, in addition to the falling bodies, and neither of them might escape. The chances were great that eight people could be buried here.

The docking maneuver was complete. Matlock opened the hatches that separated him and Bedcoe and climbed through. TSSs are made to fit two, if uncomfortably. Matlock slid in behind Bedcoe, who turned in his webbing to look at him. A look of disbelief captured Bedcoe's face. Then anger took it. ``Don't stop me, Matlock! I have to rescue my brother.''

Matlock came closer, all the more aware that Bedcoe was losing it, and that Matlock himself might be in danger. ``Bedcoe, listen to me...'' Slowly he reached for the switch that would disengage the drill.

Matlock found himself being pushed away from Bedcoe as Bedcoe wriggled away in the tight space of the TSS. Bedcoe took a distillation pistol from the emergency compartment and shot at Matlock.

Matlock ducked and the shot hit the roof, causing the tungsten to become brittle. Another shot like that and neither of them would have to worry about anything ever.

The next shot hit the wall near Matlock's arm. He lifted himself up, and the next beam hit the wall beneath him just as his feet cleared the hatch.

The butt of Bedcoe's distillation pistol almost made it through the hatch when Matlock closed it.

Matlock retreated into his TSS. Grimly he thought that it might be possible to leave a crack in Bedcoe's TSS hatch so that cold air would enter and freeze Bedcoe. He shook his head violently at the thought. Bedcoe was a friend, after all. At any rate, the drill was automatic and would continue after Bedcoe's death.

Seconds later the intercom came alive. Matlock thought it might be Radcliffe, but he was again disapointed. Instead, Bedcoe's exited speech came through. ``Stay away, Matlock! My brother isn't dead; he's right there, in front of me. If you try to stop me from saving him, I'll rip your TSS open like a sardine can!''

Matlock tried reason. ``Bedcoe, if you leave the TSS's protection you'll freeze solid. No human being can survive out there!'' He spoke these last words slowly and clearly, hoping they would sink in. They didn't.

With a final sense of defeat, Matlock disengaged from Bedcoe's TSS, making certain that Bedcoe's hatch was closed. He felt he might never see Bedcoe alive again. He thought it might be possible to intercept the drill somehow, stop it from drilling any deeper into the ice.

Matlock decided to try and call Radcliffe. He hadn't heard from him in some time, and had almost given up hope. ``Matlock to Radcliffe, `` he called.

There were several seconds of static, and then a voice. ``This is Radcliffe, Matlock. I'm about two miles from your last known position. What's the condition?''

Matlock swallowed. ``I don't know what to do... Bedcoe's trying to drill through the ice to free his brother's body.''

Radcliffe whistled. ``That could cause the whole ice wall to fall. You'd both be covered.''

``I know,'' Matlock replied.

``Matlock, I think the only thing you can do is hide until I get there. I don't even know what good I can do.''

``No!'' Matlock shouted, ``I won't abandon my friend!'' Matlock thought how similar this was to Bedcoe's situation. Bedcoe had refused to listen to reason, and was endangering others as well as himself. Matlock knew that he must hear the words of reason, even as the came from his own mouth. ``Okay, Radcliffe. What do you suggest?''

``There's a cave about 60 degrees to your west. It connects to a tunnel that leads under Gamma Mensa. Hide there. I'll be coming up that way, to help.''

``If you can,'' Matlock intoned, after Radcliffe had signed off.

A terrible cracking sound reached Matlock's ears. The ice wall began to crack up the middle, and the topmost body, that of Urich Bedcoe, came loose. With a horrible crash, it fell onto Bedcoe's TSS and shattered into slivers of frozen flesh. Before it did, however, Bedcoe had gotten a fairly good glance at the face, frozen in a horrible shout of instant terror.

Matlock heard the scream through the intercom. He shook his head and realized that Bedcoe was beyond help. Now the wall was really beginning to come apart. Individual blocks of ice that had once held souls were falling wholesale around him. Remembering that only the TSS protected Matlock from total oblivion, he maneuvered it away from Bedcoe, wondering how he was ever going to escape from there. Then he saw the cave that Radcliffe had told him about. He entered it.

He couldn't look back, but felt inclined to. In a quick motion he aimed the camera towards Bedcoe's TSS. The systems monitor came alive in a cacophony of alarm signals. Matlock shut them all off and ignored them, knowing that he was powerless to help.

Suddenly the systems monitor went flatline. Unwillingly, Matlock glanced into the camera lens, and saw a thin, stiff hand reaching out of the TSS, reaching for his brother, who lay shattered about him.

Matlock turned the camera forward, so that he could see which way to maneuver, but he had trouble seeing through the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He ignored them. The hole he had entered emerged from Delta Mensa, and minutes later he was on the open Ice Sea again.

The intercom crackled on again. This time, Matlock was sure who it was.

``Come in, Matlock,'' Radcliffe called. ``Come in! I'm on my way!'' But Matlock heard little of it. He carelessly switched on his intercom, and shouted to Radcliffe, insane with fury, ``Tartarus! the lowest part of Hades' realm and the most horrible! Bedcoe saved me, but he perished and I was unable to save him, even as he couldn't save his brother. What place can rob a man of his spirit even before it robs him of his body? I'll tell you! Tartarus, the Ultimate Hell!''

Radcliffe tried again, but received nothing coherent, except the man's ravings.

Matlock traveled on through the night, alone.

Jeffrey Delano (or De La Noye) has been a SF writer since 1979, when he read the novelization of _The Black Hole_. Since then, he has conceived of major plots and ideas. He is a second-semester Junior student at the University of new Hampshire, majoring in English and minoring in History. He believes all his writing teachers were idiots.

J_DELANO@UNHH.BITNET