The Emperor and the Monster

by Perry Rhodan

  Rhodan laughed hoarsely. "That probably comes as a surprise to you, Alkher, doesn't it?"

  "That would be no exaggeration, sir," the lieutenant managed to say.

  Rhodan got up and walked toward him over the cracking and crunching fragments of glass. Alkher involuntarily took a step back but Rhodan clapped him on the shoulder.

  "You'll be able to handle it alright," he told him with a cordiality that seemed to be overdone.

  It made Alkher wince. Nolinov seemed to have stiffened into a post. Brazo glanced toward him helplessly then stared at Rhodan again. "Sir, I am grateful for your confidence in me," he stammered.

  Rhodan's hand weighed heavily on his shoulder but Alkher didn't dare move. He suddenly remembered the first time he had met Rhodan. He had mistaken him for a mechanic and had treated him accordingly. But the Rhodan he remembered was a different man from the one who stood before him now.

  "You and Nolinov know that stronghold on Saos better than anyone," said Rhodan. "You are both capable of leading the attack against the Antis. With Krefenbac eliminated, nothing more can go wrong. I shall relay my orders through you to the fighting units."

  "Sir, I... " Alkher struggled to find words.

  Rhodan's voice became sharp. "Perhaps you have an objection, Lieutenant?"

  Alkher swallowed hard. His brown eyes acquired a feverish intensity. It was not the man himself who disturbed him so much-but his deeds, his history, his legend. With a courage born of desperation he finally blurted out: "Sir, I have to decline your offer-I'm very sorry, sir!"

  "What?!" shouted Rhodan. "Are you insane, Lieutenant? I offer you the greatest chance of your life and you dare to refuse it?"

  Brazo Alkher could only stare in wide-eyed consternation at the raving Administrator. He felt the color draining from his face and there was sweat in the palms of his hands. He fought against a tendency to tremble in his agitation. Nolinov stood tight-lipped and silent nearby.

  "Are you working in collusion with this useless Krefenbac?" Rhodan continued to rave. "I will see to it that my commands are obeyed!"

  "Every one of your commands is obeyed, sir," Alkher half-whispered. "However, the regulations permit me to think about a promotion or to decline it if I do not feel qualified to handle the new assignment."

  "Out!" shouted Rhodan. "Get out!"

  Alkher and Nolinov saluted stiffly and made a hasty exit from the cabin. It was only when they were at a safe distance that Nolinov finally expressed himself with a note of relief.

  "I thought for awhile there you were going to accept the promotion."

  Alkher was breathing heavily from his ordeal and a slow burn of anger brought the color back to his face in a hurry. "He almost had me fooled-until he brought up that button scene with Krefenbac. He's flipped!"

  "Better watch that, buddy," said Nolinov, chiding him sarcastically. "You're talking about the Chief!"

  Alkher was either thinking too intently to catch the innuendo or he preferred to ignore it. "I wish there were some way I could help him," he said. "It's obvious his rockoff actions are tied to this creepy sickness of his. Did you notice the oversize sweater he's wearing?"

  "The biggest uniform in the Fleet won't fit him anymore, Brazo. But what's with those welder goggles? He must have borrowed them from one of the technicians."

  A nameless fear gripped Alkher as he thought about this. "It's plain that he's trying to hide something."

  "Maybe he thinks the alterations in his face would be too much of a shock for us."

  Alkher sounded depressed. "Do you think he will die?"

  "The doctors won't say this growth is malignant. It all depends on how his organs and brain will react to the unnatural increase of his cells." Nolinov waved his hands helplessly. "If the medicos don't find a way to stop it there's going to be a real crisis sooner or later."

  "Yes, but when?"

  As they entered the Command Central together, Nolinov muttered softly: "Who knows?"

  The mood on board the Ironduke was depressed. No cheerful words rang out. The officers only looked silently at the two lieutenants.

  "How is he, Brazo?" asked Bell.

  "He's very bitter, sir," reported Alkher. "He's planning to relieve Maj. Krefenbac of his duties. He offered to promote me to his position."

  "You hear that, Major?" Bell called over his shoulder.

  "Yes sir," was Hunts Krefenbac's toneless answer. White-faced but self-controlled, the major had gotten up and walked over near Bell. In spite of his dejection he seemed to have more pride than ever. "I'll give you my bars, Lieutenant," he said to Alkher.

  "No sir-no need for that. I turned down the offer. When I started to remind him of my rights under the service regulations, he practically threw us out of his cabin."

  Col. Claudrin's voice thundered at them. "You're still First Officer, Hunts. Either Rhodan has to remove you personally from your commission or he has to give me an order to that effect."

  "So I wait until it's official?" asked Krefenbac bitterly.

  "I'll go talk to him," announced Reginald Bell.

  No one contradicted him. If there was anyone now who might talk some sense into Perry Rhodan it had to be Bell. He was the Administrator's closest friend. He had known him the longest.

  "He's wearing a sweater now, sir," said Nolinov. "And a pair of welding goggles."

  Bell merely nodded to the men in silence and left the Control Central. He did not have much hope for the success of his mission. In recent days he had withdrawn inwardly from Rhodan. The ties of a true friendship, reaching across so many years, now seemed to have been torn asunder. Bell realized that his opposition to Rhodan's senseless orders was growing. The aftereffects of the shock treatment Rhodan had received on Okul were not subsiding at all.

  When he came to Rhodan's cabin he figured it would be better to knock, although in other days such formality hadn't ever been necessary. In response he heard an angry voice yelling at him from inside. "Alkher, I told you to get out of my sight!"

  Bell opened the door and stepped into the room. Rhodan was lying on the bed, just as the two lieutenants had described him. He raised up swiftly and scowled.

  "It's only me," Bell told him simply.

  Rhodan sank back and folded his arms behind his head. Apparently it would be only a matter of time before the bed would be too small for him. "What do you want?" he asked in an unfriendly tone.

  "Just thought maybe you could use a little company," Bell explained calmly. "I'm not needed in the Control Central." He sat down on the end of Rhodan's bunk, noting that the other obviously regarded this with resentment. He decided it was best to ignore his friend's antipathy and his unpleasant mood. "Well, I see you're wearing shades, Perry," he said pleasantly. "Has something happened to your eyes?"

  "Those miserable babblers!" shouted Rhodan, referring to Alkher and Nolinov. "Right away they had to go tell everybody!"

  Bell watched him calmly. What was there left of Perry's famous self-composure? What had happened to the legendary cool and calculating objectivity that had always distinguished him as Administrator?

  "Do you want me to send for Dr. Gorsizia?"

  Rhodan laughed bitterly. His lips curled in derision. "What good can Gorsizia do me when none of the specialists of Terra can help me?" He tugged at his shapeless sweater. "Even my uniform jacket's too small!" He suddenly sat up and lunged at Bell, grasping him by his collar with both hands and bringing his face very close to him. Behind the dark lenses Bell thought he could make out the vague outlines of his eyes. Rhodan's hot breath was on his cheeks. "Look at me!" he demanded hoarsely. "Go ahead! Have a good look! I'm slowly becoming something inhuman-I'm turning into a bloated monstrosity!"

  Bell pleaded with him. "Perry, for God's sake get hold of yourself! Now calm down!"

  "Calm down!" he blurted. In his panting desperation he was anything but the Administrator now. "What do you know about the torture I'm going through? Should I show you, Bell?" With a lightning movement he t
ore off the goggles and threw them aside.

  Unable to speak, Bell looked into his friend's eyes. A yellowish fire of hate, despair, anger and fear was concentrated there. Bell suddenly recalled where he had been confronted by such a baleful glare before: as a youngster when he had visited the zoo and looked through bars at a captive beast of prey.

  "Their color has changed!" shouted Rhodan.

  In spite of his iron nerves, Bell had to lower his eyes before the other's gaze.

  "The Antis!" yelled Rhodan. "They're the guilty ones! And for that Saos must fall!"

  At this moment the only thing Thomas Cardif had in common with his father was the name and the title he had appropriated. More and more his own characteristics were overriding the positive hereditary factors of the genuine Rhodan. Cardif had become a hate-filled fanatic consumed by his own desire for revenge.

  Deeply shaken, Bell got to his feet. His shoulders slumped visibly as he went to the door.

  "Bell!" came a cry of consternation behind him.

  He did not turn around because those wolfish eyes had burned themselves into his mind like points of inextinguishable flame. He only came silently to a stop.

  "You have to stick with me, Bell!" pleaded Cardif-Rhodan in a half-croaking voice.

  All Bell could manage at the moment was a mute nod of his head. Just that cost him more self-control than he had ever exerted in his life. The man on the bed was a stranger to him. There was no inner bond between them anymore. With uprooted emotions, Bell left the cabin. He had completely forgotten his own concerns.

  When he returned to the Control Central, the only one to ask a question was Col. Claudrin. "What did the Chief say?"

  When Bell looked at the Epsalian commander the latter's expectant expression faded.

  "He took off his goggles," said Bell, almost inaudibly.

  This was at exactly 18:45 hours, Standard Time. After that, no one asked anything more about Rhodan. A still deeper silence pervaded the Control Central. Everyone was waiting for Rhodan to appear. The arrival of the Administrator would unquestionably signal the start of the Saos invasion.

  Undisturbed by all this, the Ironduke continued in its fixed orbit around the world of the Antis. Within its giant hull was a man whose sanity was being clouded more and more by his frightening cell growth. This man possessed the supreme power of command over the entire Solar Fleet. In the hands of a reasonable man these thousands of ships represented an effective political instrument. But Thomas Cardif was no longer a man of reason. Under his command the fleet was more dangerous to humanity than an uncontrolled nuclear fire.

  10 ADVENTURES FROM NOW You'll cheer the Saviour of the Empire

  2/ HARBINGERS OF BLACK DAWN

  Throughout the galaxy there are many thousands of confirmations of the law of Cause and Effect. In fact there are countless variables. It often happens that an effect can be produced by two practically unrelated causes.

  Maj. Albert Kulman did not suspect that his orders were to be one of two of the causes for launching 10,000 Arkonide robotships. Kulman was commander of one of the patrol cruisers which had penetrated the region of the Arkon Imperium on Cardif's orders. For him the orders were naturally from Rhodan because like any other officer of the Fleet he knew nothing of Cardif's clever masquerade.

  Also his character may have played a subordinate role-for the major was overzealous. Under normal circumstances and in a part of the galaxy that belonged to the Solar Imperium, Kulman's concept of duty would have been fully defensible. However, in the middle of a region which an exasperated Imperator of Arkon considered to be rightfully imperial territory, the effect of an officer of Kulman's caliber was like that of a burning fuse in a powder keg.

  For two days the light cruiser Zumbasi had been patrolling the sector assigned to it. The crewmen had been more or less uneasy and disgruntled about this procedure and only Kulman became fully involved with his assignment. He gave talks in the Control Central and pointed to the historical significance of their mission. According to the major it was just a matter of time until the Terrans would take over the Greater Imperium.

  Kulman's great moment came when the tracking instruments of the Zumbasi picked up the presence of an alien spaceship which had just emerged from hyperspace. Fortunately it was no problem for the cruiser to reach the vicinity of the other vessel within minutes. Or at least the major considered this to be fortunate.

  He was standing now behind Pedro Villaseluces, who was acting as the pilot. Holding a microphone in his hand he watched the viewscreen where the outlines of the other vessel were clearly discernible.

  "It's a Springer long-ship, sir," observed Villaseluces sourly. "Those cylindrical hulls are typical of the Galactic Traders."

  Kulman's eyes began to gleam. He shouted into the mike, causing the pilot to duck his head between his shoulders. "Attention, Fire Control Center!"

  "Sir?" came the response over the speaker.

  "Lay a warning shot across the bow of that Springer ship," Kulman ordered. "Do you have it in your sights?"

  There was a brief moment of silence. Then came the puzzled voice of Mark Dickson, the Fire Control officer: "You mean-we give them a shot across the bow before challenging them to heave to?"

  "Do you wish to argue the point with me?" inquired Kulman indignantly.

  "No sir but-may I point out to you, sir, that we are in a region where the Springers may do as they please?"

  Kulman drew himself up haughtily. "Those times are past, Lt. Dickson. Just keep the Administrator's new orders in mind!"

  "Very well, sir," replied Dickson but his tone of voice left no doubt that he didn't think much of Rhodan's new orders.

  Kulman could see on the viewscreen that the Springers seemed uncertain as to how they should react to the spherical warship. They were waiting it out in free fall. Then came a flash from one of the Zumbasi's bow guns and an arm-sized bolt of energy shot close across the course of the long-ship.

  "Very good, Dickson," said Kulman appreciatively. "That will do for a starter."

  Fleming called from the Com Room: "Springer ship requests video contact, sir. Shall I channel it through to you on the videophone?"

  "Yes-hurry it up!" ordered the major.

  The normal space vidcom screen lit up and a bearded face became visible. If Albert Kulman had ever seen an agitated expression it was this one. The major observed the Springer commander with obvious satisfaction.

  "Do you have any plausible explanation for your action, Terran?" the Springer demanded to know.

  "Prepare to take on a prize crew for inspection," announced Kulman dryly.

  "Do you have any idea of your present position?" countered the other heatedly. "Do you at least know enough about cosmic navigation to realize that you are in the sphere of influence of the Greater Imperium?"

  The aspersion cast upon his astronautical capabilities served to kindle Kulman's zeal and goad his ambition. "Which is a region we also control," he retorted arrogantly.

  "But we're just a harmless merchant ship! If you're going to harass us in this manner you will be responsible for the consequences. I am appealing to your reason!"

  Kulman might have been a fair judge of men but in this case he misinterpreted the Trader's attitude. The major was convinced that the Springer was afraid of an inspection. The fear was probably well founded. No doubt there were contraband goods on board the long-ship. Kulman did not see the worried faces of his crew nor did he notice Villaseluces when the latter shook his head in dismay. He became totally absorbed in what he thought to be the fulfillment of his duty.

  "Dickson!" he yelled into the mike. "Put another charge across his bow so that he'll know we mean what we say!"

  Meanwhile the Trader had realized what he was up against. "Alright, Terran," he said in angry resignation, "we're heaving to!"

  Kulman nodded his satisfaction and ordered Dickson to hold his fire for the time being. A few minutes later he had gotten a prize crew together and transferred ac
ross to the Springer ship in a commuter craft. The Traders stood by grimly during the inspection, knowing that their weapons were no match for a Terran patrol cruiser.

  Kulman and his men carefully inspected the alien ship and found nothing that could be considered contraband or even suspicious-looking. Slowly the major had to grudgingly admit to himself that he had really stopped a harmless merchant ship and fired a shot across its bow. But Kulman figured that a Terran officer must not apologize to a Springer commander. In icy tones he ordered his boarding commandos to return with him.

  "You may continue your flight," he told the Springer condescendingly.

  The bearded commander didn't bother to answer him.

  With the awareness of having deceived himself, Kulman came back on board the Zumbasi. However he was still convinced that he had carried out what his new set of orders implied.

  The airlock hatch had hardly closed behind the major before the Springer ship sent out a hypercom dispatch in which Kulman's action was depicted. The message found its way through several relay stations to Arkon where it happened to join an incoming distress call from another group threatened by Terrans.

  The effect of both hypercom messages really lent historical importance to Kulman's mission. But of course this was in a sense that was completely different from what the major had imagined.

  • • •

  Imperator Gonozal VIII was the exalted ruler over the Greater Imperium but his reign was a very strange one. Among the decadent Arkonides there was hardly a one who was capable of being helpful to Atlan or standing by him. Without the former robot Regent the attempt of this immortal to consolidate the Imperium again would have been doomed to failure. It was a practical impossibility for one man to encompass the tremendous task of ruling a galactic empire that was light-years in extent. The robot Brain alone was able to encompass the entire complex of countless solar systems, to receive the river of messages from them all and assemble them into a logical overall picture.