The Merchandise Guide
Annual 1977

stood the dangers, Alphans should empty the chutes of nuclear waste. They - the Lamnians - would see to the loading of their ship - which was indeed the rocklike monstrosity that had appeared as a meteorite.    "You don't want the stuff, and we do. What could be simpler, Commander?" said the alien leader. "Of course, we should like to do something for you in return . . ."    "Taking our waste will be enough, Borg. I suggest we begin the operation at once. I will deploy two Eagles with grab equipment, and all available moon- buggies to assist."    "That is splendid, John Koenig." Borg snapped his baleful eyes at his followers, and they herded close together to leave Main Mission. "Come. We shall leave by the surface airlock we entered, and leave our worthy friend to make his preparations."    It was as they passed out to the rocky wastes beyond the Alphan complex and took the buggies that had been provided for their journey, that Maya gripped Koenig by the arm. "John! There were six of them . . . weren't there . . ?"    "Yes, Maya! Why?"    "Because only five left here! They were grouped close together - it was hard to tell. But I'm sure there were only five!" With absolute certainty, Koenig knew he'd been tricked. And if one of Borg's men had remained within Moonbase, there was only one place he could have gone without raising the alarm. The one area where security men were never left on guard. The danger zone surrounding the reactors - vital life-core of the whole Alphan complex!    "My stars!" Koenig was ashen. "They want their nuclear waste, all right! They're going to brew up the reactors and turn the whole of Moonbase into one glorious pile of it!"    As he scrambled into a protective suit, the Com- mander gave his orders. Two remotely controlled Eagles, both armed with lasers, lifted to their pads and rose on their vertical ram-jets. Their targets - the moon buggies that Borg and four of his companions were even now racing back towards the dump- chute area.    Koenig himself sped to the reactor centre. Alone. He knew he'd find the outer safety door open, that his writs-counter would register radiation already dangerously high. But with supreme disregard for his own safety, the Commander hurled his weight against the door and slammed it shut. He caught one glimpse of the missing Lamnian inside . . .    Koenig knew he'd have to go for decontamination - but there was no time for that. Not yet.    "Main Mission! Close down the reactors. At once!" He spoke grimly into his comlock . . .    "But Commander! We'll lose temperature! We'll

freeze within an hour!"    "So will Borg's man - and unless he does, we're doomed anyway! Do as I say!" Koenig switched off. He muttered, to himself . . . "Come to think of it, it'll mean the decontamination unit won't be work- ing, either . . ." One hour and ten minutes had passed. Thin ice had formed on the interior walls of every Moon- base building. Half dead with the numbing cold, the inhabitants were huddled together, wrapped in every available scrap of clothing. Tony Verdeschi eased his cramped muscles and tottered to the switches controlling the reactors. Shakily, he thrust them back to the 'on' position . . .    Inside the reactor chambers, the lifeless lump of matter that had once been a Lamnian did not stir . . .    Slowly, warmth and life came back to the Alphans. Koenig lay unconscious in the decontamination unit, and though it would be touch and go, Helena knew that she could save him. When he did recover, she herself would have the pleasure of telling him that Borf and the others had never reached their ship. That the rocky lump they'd all thought to be a meteorite would remain on the blind side of the Moon for ever - a monument to alien treachery . . .

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