by Leo Lukas
Sometimes I hate this perversely over-sophisticated picosyn technology, he thought. A glorified hairpin is enough to cause problems for an entire empire! He was also irritated because he, along with his subordinates, had underestimated what Eniva could pull off with that seeming toy that was part of her clothing.
Even so, he instructed the two Syntronic technicians to do whatever they could, and sent them to their workstations. Meanwhile, Mechtan had been found. The Admiral was spending the break between two interviews in his private exercise room. When Achab informed Mechtan that a serious crisis was brewing, the Admiral told him to come in person, and gave him the teleporter code. Although Achab disliked leaving his command post in such situations, he agreed to the Takhan's request without argument. What they had to discuss was complicated. It would be better for them to stand physically face-to-face.
In the exercise room, a dome-shaped studio, gravity had been reduced to two-tenths of a G. Mechtan tan Taklir floated three meters above the floor, supported by tractor beams. He wore an exercise suit. "Change your clothes, my boy," he called in exhilaration, "And work out with me! If we have to discuss something unpleasant, at least we can get some good out of it at the same time!"
Achab, who knew his Admiral and so had brought workout gear along, did as requested. Then he gave the Syntron the desired exercise intensity and was lifted into the dome.
Such workout rooms were extremely popular because all the body's muscle groups were optimally exercised, and with a minimal expenditure of time and space. There were no machines as had once been the case, only a series of projectors for anti-grav fields, shaped energy, and tractor beams. Following the selected program, they forced one to follow gently but vigorously the prescribed series of movements, and created force that had to be answered with the proper counter-force in order to stimulate the individual muscles to best effect. As a result, sloppy performance of the exercises that could have led to injuries was made impossible. A few repetitions of the appropriate contractions were sufficient to maintain the achieved degree of fitness and muscle development or, if so desired, to increase it.
Achab didn't share Mechtan's delight in this mechanically performed physical training. He felt the rigidly programmed exercise equipment took away his independence and power of choice. Instead he preferred traditional gymnastics when he had the choice. Still, he kept that to himself.
As they were maneuvered in a wide variety of positions like jumping jacks or marionettes on invisible strings, he informed the Takhan how Solina Tormas and Eniva ta Drorar had taken matters into their own hands. It was obvious that Mechtan would have literally hit the ceiling if the tractor beams hadn't prevented it.
"What's gotten into those females, anyway?" he thundered when Achab had finished. "That borders on mutiny! High treason! They deserve a court martial on the spot!"
Achab let him rage for a while, abstaining from correcting him by pointing out that, at most, one could speak only of civil disobedience since they weren't dealing with military personnel. After the old man had finished shouting and had regained some semblance of self-control, they went through their options together.
"In the good old days," Mechtan grumbled, "the Energy Command would have just gotten rid of two obstreperous females like these. No mess, no fuss, just gone, and problem solved. You could call it 'Operation Nearer My Vehraáto to Thee!'"
"I'm afraid that's not the course of action you should recommend to the Ruling Council."
"Then what?"
Negotiate, Achab wanted to suggest. Perhaps they would succeed in showing the bothersome but by no means stupid Tormas what far-reaching consequences would result if they couldn't come to an amicable agreement and she carried out her threat. In the end, she wouldn't have accomplished anything, but instead simply made everything worse. The political atmosphere in the Galaxy would be poisoned, and the arks would be more unreachable than ever for her and her new friends. On the other hand, the Council, the Fleet, and the Energy Command had to realize that certain concessions to the two rebels were unavoidable, whether that pleased the powers that be or not.
That or something like it was the case Achab wanted to argue.
But he didn't have the chance to get to it. The Syntron suddenly broke off the exercise program and announced a top-priority call. "Audio only!" Achab ordered, considering their highly unofficial clothing.
"Gugulja Nitaros speaking, Techten on duty for the teleporter station on board the ACHATI UMA. Takhan tan Taklir, Maphan ta Mentec—we have just apprehended an intruder who claims to be Perry Rhodan."
If Mechtan had suspected what would transpire in the following days, he would have seriously considered taking his leave from the Fleet and offering his services as a talk show host to some tri-vid broadcaster.
He and Achab lost no time. As quickly as they could and as sweaty as they were, they slipped into their uniforms and teleported to the ACHATI UMA.
The teleporter station had been installed in its bow, in the conical section that not only served as an observatory but also included a hangar for a small landing craft. Both had apparently been available only to the ark's commander, the mysterious Levian Paronn, who remained missing without a trace. Statements that had been taken from the Ark's inhabitants regarding Paronn's location differed greatly. Some held to the religious notion that the Naahk, as they called their charismatic leader, was always present within the ship. Only he retreated now and then to meditate for long periods and was unreachable by ordinary mortals. Others, more pragmatically inclined, explained that according to certain traditions that had been passed down, Paronn and "the Keeper" had left the ACHATI UMA several times during the long journey. They had supposedly not returned from their last flight several generations before.
The tiresome uncertainty went against Mechtan tan Taklir's grain, and he had suggested grilling the Lemurians using time-tested interrogation techniques. At the same time he would deploy a thousand soldiers to comb the ark from bow to stern and ransack every cabin if necessary. Jars had talked him out of it with a firm warning of the danger of causing lasting psychological damage to the inhabitants. Treating the "Arkies" with what amounted to kid gloves was very much contrary to Mechtan's nature. He realized, however, that it was still advisable for a while.
"Report!" he barked at the Techten waiting for them. As much as Aykalie teased him about that anthropoid bellowing, as she groaningly called it, it was always fun for him.
Nitairos saluted stiffly. "Takhan, a man appeared in the teleporter five minutes ago, coming from Veehraátoru on Drorah, whose physical characteristics differed significantly from those of the expected individual returning from shore leave. This automatically set off an alarm. Among other things, the suspect has ribs instead of a fused chest-plate."
"So it's a Terran and not an Akonian."
"Although disguised as one, your lordship. He surrendered without any resistance, but declared that he was the Terran Resident, and advised us to inform our superiors. Since an implant that could be a Cell Activator was detected in his left shoulder, we did as he suggested."
"Where is he?"
"In the next room, Takhan."
They followed the officer into the adjoining cabin, a kind of library filled with ancient-looking bound volumes. Two space soldiers were watching the man, their beamers drawn. He stood up when Achab and Mechtan entered, spreading out his arms and nodding in greeting.
"I ask for your forgiveness for this somewhat unusual beginning to a goodwill visit," Perry Rhodan said, smiling.
It was him, no doubt about it. The remnants of a biomolplastic mask clung to his prominent chin, and his complexion showed a somewhat darker coloring than it had during their previous encounter. But the dark blond hair, the glittering in the bluish-gray eyes, the small whitish scar on the right side of his nose, and more than anything else this Terran's aura made any identification by technical means completely unnecessary.
At that moment, Mechtan mentally cursed every ancestor
he could think of.
Why did this have to happen to me? Damn! How can I get myself out of this affair? Does Rhodan have any idea what he's dumped in our lap with this crazy stunt?
He knew. His roguish wink spoke volumes. "I really am sorry that I've put you in such a difficult situation, Admiral tan Taklir. I trust you won't make it worse by interning me on Drorah or deporting me from the system against my will?"
Mechtan's thoughts raced. Although legal justifications for each alternative undoubtedly existed, neither could be considered if he wanted to avoid straining relations with Terra and consequently threatening the peace in the Galaxy. Rhodan had turned the tables. He had in principle done the same thing Mechtan had when he ordered Rhodan and the Halutian's ships confined to the edge of the Blue System: created a fait accompli. The opposing side could, of course, resist it in accordance with all applicable laws and bilateral agreements. By insisting on its perfectly valid rights, however, it would be at the cost of assuming the role of the unreasonable, hostile party.
Achab ta Mentec discreetly cleared his throat. Not for the first time Mechtan was more than glad to have him at his side. "This could blow up into something more than just a simple scandal," the Maphan said quietly.
"Or maybe not," Rhodan replied just as calmly. Enviably relaxed, he leaned back against a bookcase and folded his arms across his chest. "It all depends on how we—together—assess my presence aboard this most unusual spacecraft."
What's there to quibble about? Mechtan wanted to shout. You snuck aboard here like a thief and a con-man! But he restrained himself.
"Who cares how I managed to get on board?" the legendary Terran asked as though he had read his thoughts. "I'm here. We should try to make the best of it for everyone concerned."
"By your leave, Takhan," Achab said, "I recommend that this ... misunderstanding be resolved by just the three of us." He looked at Mechtan questioningly.
The Admiral nodded. He felt uneasy, but even so, Achab seemed to have spotted a possible way out of the dilemma.
"Lower your weapons and secure them," the Maphan ordered the two guard soldiers. "Left about face, dismissed!" After they had marched out, he gestured for Rhodan and Mechtan to sit down. "I must admit, Resident, that you managed to outwit us in an amazingly short time. A considerable feat, and in collaboration with Solina Tormas and Eniva ta Drorar to boot."
Rhodan raised his eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow you."
"Weren't the historian's actions coordinated with yours?"
"Even if by admitting it I'm weakening my bargaining position, no, I'm not aware of what has taken place."
Achab ta Mentec hesitated briefly. It was not hard to see that the two men, roughly the same age in physical terms, had developed a certain sympathy for each other. Finally, after Mechtan had made an encouraging gesture, he was able to bring himself to match Rhodan's openness and told him in a few terse sentences about the current ultimatum.
"You really are in a jam," Rhodan remarked dryly and visibly amused. "Why don't you just swallow your pride and let us take part in the investigation of the arks?"
Mechtan merely snorted.
"As you can imagine," Achab replied, "It rests less with us than with the Ruling Council. We have to propose a solution that will allow it to save face."
"If it became public knowledge throughout the Galaxy that a little historian and a single, unarmed Terran outwitted the Akonian security forces at the same time, the disgrace would be intolerable."
And I could say good-bye to my rank insignia, Mechtan thought. Farewell, dream of a carefree, restful old age, of idleness and the sound of hunting horns, of family celebrations with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren gathered around. No one will want to have anything to do with me for fear my failure would rub off on him. After being dishonorably discharged, I'd be avoided like the plague and left to languish in loneliness and poverty.
"Does it have to come to that?" Achab asked.
"As far as I'm concerned," Rhodan said, "not at all. How do you like this: if the Ruling Council of Akon had recently asked the League of Free Terrans for support in the investigation of the arks, unofficially, of course, and under cover of the greatest possible secrecy with regard to third parties. And if we in turn had requested that the crew of the LAS-TOOR and the Halutian Icho Tolot be included as well—then everything would be in perfect order."
"Yes, if!" Mechtan exclaimed. "If, if, and if! Except that the Council didn't do any such thing, but instead ... "
Achab interrupted him with an apologetic gesture. "I think I know where the Resident is going with this. If our foreign ministers work together, it could have been like that. Unfortunately, the message and the relevant orders were a little delayed in being conveyed ... "
" ... due to communication problems that can sometimes happen even with highly developed technology such as ours," Rhodan continued. "But now all the misunderstandings have been cleared up, and together we can devote our full attention to the arks. Authority over the arks will of course remain, without any reservation, with Akon. My side will gladly send a relevant, well formulated diplomatic message agreeing to the terms in a short time."
He smiled. Achab ta Mentec smiled back.
Two sly dogs, the Admiral thought. So different in origin, personal history, life experiences—and yet from the same mould.
Naturally, he didn't let his admiration show. He groused, groaned, and haggled a little more, since he owed it to his image. But then he made contact with Fleet High Command and the Ruling Council and presented the plan for resolving the crisis. Of course, that meant in principle the Akonian side had to give in and grant Perry Rhodan's and Solina Tormas's demands. But it did it from a position of undisputed sovereignty. And, as long as the participants kept quiet, which could be assumed, the outward appearance that was so important for the Akonians was preserved. Officially they had taken the initiative by generously extending an invitation to Rhodan and Tolot. How it had actually happened, no one would care about by tomorrow. And of course neither side would have ever used words like "extortion," "ultimatum," and "unauthorized intrusion."
After the usual back and forth arguing with several notoriously obstinate Council members, Takhan Mechtan tan Taklir's proposal was accepted. In addition, the Ruling Council appointed Maphan Achab ta Mentec and the Ma-Yidari Jars tan Aburrir as "Official Contact Representatives for Matters Concerning Support Personnel Provided by Terra as a Friendly Gesture," as the public announcement put it in typical bureaucratese that was as arrogant as it was clumsy. No one was concerned by it.
"Welcome aboard the ACHATI UMA," Achab said, beaming, and shook Perry Rhodan's hand.
Shortly thereafter, Jars joined them. But before they could discuss how to proceed, the next bomb dropped.
An urgent message came in from the UMBERIA. The contents of the message made Mechtan's blood pressure, which had only just settled back to normal, shoot up again.
The special detector on board Achab's flagship had just discovered yet another Lemurian ark, with a construction design that differed drastically from the three known to date.
Intermezzo
The Ghost Ship
I was so shocked that I almost gave myself away with a thoughtless utterance. "That ... "
... can't be! was how I wanted to finish the sentence. In all our discussions of future events, the Keeper never mentioned a fourth ark!
Fortunately, the discipline that had been both my burden and my armor in all these widely varied epochs kept the upper hand, and I continued with " ... could be useful."
Incidentally, I even believe that might actually be so. The Keeper told me much of these eventful days, but of course not everything. He left out what was unimportant. Therefore, the fourth ark couldn't be significant!
The logic of that conclusion soothed me, restored calm and confidence to my appearance. I don't think the other three noticed my brief confusion at all. And if they did, it would be interpreted as a reacti
on to the unexpected news.
The UMBERIA's Syntron provided a rough image of the space giant just discovered by chance. I recognized at once the characteristic, very esthetic basic shape: an elongated spheroid three and a half kilometers in length with a diameter of 1200 meters. Viewed from the front, it could be seen that two diagonally opposite quarters of the circular cross-section were lacking, giving it something of an hourglass appearance. The edges of the existing segments were rounded at the point that they connected with the central hub and also curved inwards at the outer edges. Perry Rhodan compared the object with an "American football"—whatever that was—in which two large sections had been cut out lengthwise on each side. He immediately suspected that the neutrino-capture systems were located in the gaps, arranged on slats that continuously moved in asynchronous rotation so that in total there was a grid surface as large as that for the other construction types. I could have confirmed that his reasoning was correct, but I preferred not to arouse his suspicions.
The NEANN OCIS, then.
It would be the NEANN OCIS.
Of all the arks whose stories are known to me, she was that one that raced towards perhaps the saddest, most tragic fate. Though the LEMCHA OVIR was wrecked in the Ichest System, as we had recently learned, there were still a certain number of survivors. But even on my last and only visit to the NEANN OCIS many millennia ago, it was already a ghost ship.