by Leo Lukas
"They're mainly components of contemporary Akonian Syntron applications," Brodbeck said after the microscopic examination. "But some of the remnants belong to a much older piece of equipment."
"You mean ... ?"
"Lemurian manufacture, yes. If you ask me, it was a kind of dictaphone. And what's really wild—the data was still recorded in analog. In a non-volatile, biopositronic recording medium."
"It isn't completely lost?"
"Well, we won't be able to recover very much of it. And we'll have to improvise a playback device. Hartich, you're a nostalgic sort and collect antique odds and ends. Maybe we can use something from your collection?"
Rhodan felt his fingers start to itch. He didn't dare express his hope, or even formulate it in his thoughts ...
Their effort was rewarded. Soon, before the three starships reached the Gorbas System, Brodbeck and van Kuespert presented him with what they had been able to salvage.
"Here you go," the physicist told him, handing him a storage crystal. "As Kurd said, it's only a small portion of the original recording and even this is incomplete. Like a few scattered scraps of the canvas of an old painting, you might say. But it's undoubtedly the remains of Levian Paronn's diary. We've arranged the entries chronologically so far as we could read a time code. Have fun!"
Intermezzo
The Sacrifice of the Keeper
I am astonished. He has returned!
His appearance fills me with almost more terror than it did during our first encounter. Then he was one monster out of many, An anonymous horror that we did not perceive as an individual, but as part of a hideously perfect war machine. Only with time was he able to convince us that he had changed sides and was now in opposition to others of his kind. We did not trust him. Yet he proved to be a friend, even more important to my mission than that other with whom everything had begun. I could not say to whom I owed more.
So there was no reason to be afraid of him. Still, it took me a great effort of will to look up at him. He is so large, so powerful ... On board the ACHATI UMA, his physical superiority shows itself much more to advantage than on Lemur or the planet Torbutan. Sensitive and considerate, as is the nature of his kind—correction: as is the nature of him as the only one of his kind. He holds his colossal strength in check, avoids hasty movements, communicates at a volume that must seem like a whisper to him. And even so, I cannot escape the inner dread, cannot completely overcome the fear, that has been impressed upon me ever since childhood.
I envy my crew, who have been spared this, and hopefully will remain spared forever ...
Before he found the ACHATI UMA, he had already visited other star arks. He reports that everything there is in order. We have agreed to visit more generation ships in the future. It will improve the morale of the crews and also give us an opportunity to correct any wrong developments. We certainly have enough time. He says the spacecraft, sphere-shaped and a hundred meters in diameter, is severely damaged, but will probably hold up a while longer ...
Today I went with him on board his ship for the first time. Oh, dear diary, that was an experience that demanded every last bit of my self-control. We have of course, on rare occasions, captured the Beasts' technology. But to see it in action, operated by someone for whom it is proportioned, is something completely different.
I consider myself to have a matter-of-fact, hard-boiled personality, and I certainly saw enough terrible things in my former life. But as I watched him perform in his command post, merged with the ship that he alone controls, himself more killer machine than living being ... He is so fast, so aware, so mentally superior to us. No wonder that we ultimately had no chance against his kind. They are born to be warriors and victors, bred for no other purpose.
We Lemurians formerly considered ourselves to be the crown of creation. What pathetic arrogance!
If there are super-beings in our Galaxy, it is them.
His presence has an astonishingly positive effect on the mood on board. The young ones call him "the Keeper." He says he was addressed by that name on the NETHACK ACHTON as well. Apparently his colossal presence provides a sense of support and security. The universe outside is so vast and wide, so terribly empty ... Our little ship, although the most magnificent the Lemurians had built up to that time, is almost nothing compared to it. It is a good feeling knowing he is among us, a being who can defy even the interstellar vacuum for a certain amount of time. He protects, helps, watches over us as though we were children. Do I sound effusive? Perhaps. But I am not exaggerating.
He is a blessing for the ark, a blessing for all of humanity.
We often discuss things. He tells me much about what was and what will be. Not everything, I suspect. Sometimes I get the impression that he is deliberately holding things back from me. Well, he will have his reasons for doing so. I don't press him. I am one hundred percent certain of his loyalty.
On the other hand, I must admit to you, dear diary, that for my part I am on the verge of acting even more dishonestly towards him.
In our last conversation, you see, he gave me an idea that I now can't get out of my head ...
It has to be. I will change my plans.
The first, original plan was and is good. As before, I am by and large holding to it. However, I will expand it by a second element that is even more far-reaching and will be ultimately decisive.
A great risk is connected with it, which is why I don't dare inform the Keeper of it.
Although it was he who inspired me to do it.
He informed me in passing of a military research base situated in a star system that much later would be given the Lemurian name "Ichest System." In that base, work was being done to develop a very special weapon. Had it been perfected in time, it would have decided the outcome of the war. In our favor, of course. But unfortunately that didn't happen.
How painful. That is probably what one calls the "irony of history". While for us in the arks only weeks passed in dilation flight, out there the dark decades and centuries passed. The drama of humanity's expulsion from its home galaxy took place with terrible casualties and the destruction of almost all the Tamaniums. The Milky Way swam in the blood of the Lemurians. Indescribable was the scale of the agony that the Beasts' offensive brought on us. And immutable was the ghastly fate.
Unless the weapon in the Ichest System base could in fact be deployed soon enough.
Much sooner. At the very beginning of the war—which would then be ended almost immediately ...
It is done.
The weapon—or to put it more precisely, the plans for its construction, which amount to the same thing—is now in my possession.
It took all my powers of persuasion to convince him to fly me to the Ichest System. By Veéhrato, it was not easy and required a great deal of willpower to deceive the Keeper. After all he did for me, the star arks, and all of humanity, I stabbed him in the back, betrayed his trust! You can believe I felt terrible about it, dear diary, as I left him to his fate. Even now I sometimes wake up with a start in the middle of an uneasy night. I dreamed he was standing by my bed and looking at me with his three enormous, unfathomable eyes.
Must I reproach myself for accepting his death? Yes. He didn't deserve such treatment. Not him, not the most morally impressive being I've ever met. And no. Compared with what is at stake, I believe I can justify what I did. This end justifies any means. I deeply regret having to sacrifice him, but history will absolve me once my plan has been carried out.
Yes, I even imagine that he himself would posthumously agree with me. He would understand my actions, and approve of them, if he had the opportunity. Although I naturally could not take him into my confidence, I sometimes got the impression that he suspected, at least to some extent, what I intended. In the end, however, he let himself be persuaded and went, possibly with his eyes open, to his destruction ...
It is in the loneliness of the deserted base that I have really come to appreciate you, my diary. The base is large, e
xtensive, and terribly empty. As the only inhabitant, it is enough to affect my reason. Even I would run the risk of losing my mind if I didn't have you. You, and the certainty, thanks to my Cell Activator, of surviving the long period of waiting until that distant day when developments will reach their climax and their turning point. But then I will be already on Drorah, the main world of the 87th Tamanium which was spared from destruction. I will have prepared everything under the cover of a different identity for the finale, which will also be—at the same time—the overture.
I wait, exercising my patience and discipline. I too have become a Keeper, a keeper of the future. From now on, all my efforts will be directed at bringing others to do exactly that which must be done—so that what has actually already happened will come to pass.
And then, in that one brief, decisive moment, I will intervene and change everything. Literally everything—that is, no more and no less than the history of the Galaxy for the last 50,000 years.
15
The Righteous of Time
29 April NGE, Gorbas System
Garm Hesset was fifty days old. In this, his second life, he had personally stood before only five other intelligent beings—and had immediately killed them.
Garm felt neither pride nor regret about it. Hate was as alien to him as pity. Even when he occasionally gave preference to his ordinary brain as opposed to his overbrain, he didn't permit himself any such perversely exaggerated emotions. Certainly not in connection with the two-armed dwarfs. The slightest hint of a thought that such vermin, the plague of the Galaxy, would be worthy of such a reaction was a waste of mental resources. Thus it was to be rejected for reasons of rational economy. Any unit of time or conceptual capacity, however small, was needed for other purposes. What was important was securing the arsenal planet, boosting manufacturing capacity, and tending the rearing program.
When the signal came fifty days before and awakened Garm Hesset to his new, second life, he knew nothing other than his name and that he was one of the Righteous of Time. But with each beat of his heart, concentrated knowledge flowed into him through the same system that replaced the cryoplasma in his gradually thawing body with blood, lymph, and tissue fluid. Knowledge about the purpose of his existence in general, along with the specifics of his mission here and now, at this particular place and time. Highest priority, it was immediately made clear to him, had to be given to the Construction. It represented the arsenal's core element as well as the backbone of the strategy served by this and all the other arsenal worlds. The sooner it fulfilled its function, the higher the probability of a decisive success.
Who had designed and originally set up the Construction, one of a kind and irreplaceable, Garm had no idea. The technology employed was largely that of his ancestors' science, so that he could operate it. He had no interest in anything else. He didn't impede himself or the project with additional speculation. For operation, a rare type of oscillating quartz was required.Hypercrystals with supervalent throttling constants. That this planet bore abnormally rich deposits of the rare ore was probably the reason why it had been chosen as an arsenal world, and the eleventh, most important arsenal had been established here.
After they were awakened from cold sleep and had regained full control of their bodies, Garm Hesset and the other nineteen Righteous went to work. Each of them had a precisely determined area of responsibility. Their twenty enclaves lay scattered across the entire planet. They had as much coded com contact as was necessary to perform their activities without error, but they never met in person even once. Strongly individualistic by nature, they did not care for the proximity of other beings even when they were of the same kind and working together.
So the discovery that the eleventh arsenal world had become infested with vermin hit Garm and his comrades all the harder. Of course, the four-limbed pests had apparently been exploiting the ore deposits for only a relatively short time. Their bases were small, weakly occupied, and limited to a few areas. Nor, for the moment, was there any danger of the heavily shielded arsenal enclaves being discovered. Still, the Lemuroids were disturbing influences, which was why Garm and three other Righteous had eliminated them. A group of vermin managed to survive the first attack, but the hunt for them didn't last long. Still, Garm had to leave his enclave to take care of it, which didn't please him. But due to the approaching radiation front from the supernova, he didn't dare risk any further delays. They had to go into action before the star system died.
After eliminating the pests, the Righteous achieved further successes now that they could unleash their full capacity without restraint. Soon they were ahead of their output targets. The work progressed well without serious incidents. The pilot who was responsible for watching over the system intercepted a vermin ship that was approaching the arsenal planet. Without hesitation, he blew it to bits with his interval-cannon before it could send a hypercom message. The danger of premature exposure seemed to have been removed for the time being. This remote star system and the base, according to the vermin's statements, were only visited once a month. Garm Hesset permitted himself a brief feeling of confidence.
But just a day later, alien ships again approached the arsenal planet ...
"Why is he luring us here," Perry Rhodan asked, not for the first time. "Nothing about this doomed solar system indicates any further arks or anything else connected with the Lemurians. What do you think, Omer?"
The young hyper-detection specialist he had spoken to replied in his own drawling, apathetic manner. "If that was the case, I would have told you already, right? There are some pieces of wreckage drifting deeper in the system, but they can be unmistakably identified as the remnants of a modern Akonian ship. Otherwise there are only energy emissions on Gorbas IV, partly in the higher dimensional range. But we know from the star maps that Howalgonium is being intensively mined there."
"The hyper-detection readings could be irregular due to variations in the energy field that probably originate with the supernova," Hartich van Kuespert added.
"Are you insinuating that I'm not doing my job right?" The question sounded like a pistol shot. When someone questioned his abilities, Omer Driscol's stoic calm was instantly forgotten.
"Don't get excited. I just meant that ... "
"It's all right, boys," Sharita Coho interrupted. "Keep your mouths shut and concentrate on your assignments!"
Rhodan noticed that even the commander showed tension and nervousness. The PALENQUE was a prospecting ship, so an otherwise uninhabited planet supplying raw ores was familiar terrain for it. Under normal circumstances the crew would have been toying with the idea of getting its hands on the planet's valuable deposits.
But this time they weren't searching for ores, but for ...
"Levian Paronn could have been in the ship that was destroyed," Solina Tormas murmured to Rhodan. Once again, the Akonian historian wasn't leaving his side. Clearly she felt better with the Terrans than on the LAS-TOOR. "He said something in his diary about a grand finale. What if it's already happened and we missed it by a hair?"
"Do you believe that?"
"To be honest, no."
"Neither do I. It's so frustrating that we only have a fraction of his recordings ... "
"Detection! Three ships without identification!" Omer exclaimed. "Damn! It's like they just popped out of nowhere! Black space-spheres ... could be Halutian ... "
"Call them, ask politely for identification," Sharita Coho ordered.
"I'm already on it!" Alemaheyu exclaimed from his com console.
Rhodan had crossed the distance to the hyper-detection station in three long strides and quickly read the readings that were blended into the holographic displays. He caught his breath. He had encountered such compact and heavily armed warships of exactly this type before.
But not in the last 50,000 years.
"Activate Paratron shield!" he exclaimed without giving the slightest consideration to the official ship's chain of command. "Maximum load! Don't ask�
�do it!"
The urgency in his voice got results. Kurt Brodbeck and Harriet Hewes, the weapons officer, reacted without hesitation.
Not a second too soon.
Without any preliminary warning, the Beasts opened fire.
The evaluations of Icho Tolot's on-board computer left no doubt that they were dealing with the spacecraft of his ancestors. Modern Halutian ships, such as the one he himself piloted, showed a significant difference in the ratio of offensive to defensive weaponry. In the past, during the terrible wars for dominance in the Galaxy, the humanoids had been incapable of cracking the Beasts' ships then new Paratron shields. Nor were the able to challenge the destructive power of their interval-cannon.
Since then, both technologies had become the common property of the Galaxy. It was that same technology that saved the lives of the crews on the PALENQUE and the LAS-TOOR.
They had been flying in a triangular formation with the HALUTE in the lead. Its multiple layered shields blocked the Beasts' first salvo without any problem. The Terrans' prospector ship also came through it unscathed, although with considerably greater effort despite the fact that its simpler Paratron shield had been activated almost simultaneously. That they had reacted so quickly and thus escaped destruction was unquestionably due to Perry Rhodan. Once again he had lived up to his reputation for being an instant adapter.
The LAS-TOOR activated its defense shield with a critical delay of nearly two seconds. The furthest away from the attackers and in the middle of making a course correction, it only received a glancing hit. Even so, the damage must have been considerable. It would be lucky if it was still able to maneuver at all.