by Perry Rhodan
Of course what he might have said to the assassin was that he was mistaken and that what he intended to do would destroy the best friend Zalit had. He might have told him that in reality the true Admiral Calus had long since been a prisoner of the foes of Arkon. But billions of Zalites would have heard this—not to mention the ever-watchful Arkonides.
If the thought had at least occurred to anyone to cut the broadcast off the air, they would have avoided doing so. For Zalites it was a welcome opportunity to hit the Arkonide where it hurt. Such a defeat as this, in front of the television cameras...
Osega saw only one alternative: if he wanted to live and at the same time not endanger Operation Troy, he had to kill the Zalite before the latter killed him.
But before that he tried one more angle. "Wait, Zalite he said as calmly as possible. "You are committing a fatal mistake. Will you listen to me before you—?"
"Die, you imperial traitor!" shouted Rhog dramatically as he lifted his weapon. "All of you are traitors who serve the Robot Brain!"
He fired before Osega had a chance to draw his own weapon. The sergeant died before he could feel any pain and he did so before the eyes of an entire planet. He slipped down onto the edge of the table and then sank to the floor.
But Rhog also died. Since Calus' safety was no longer a factor, the robot opened fire. Bored through by three or four fingers of energy simultaneously, Rhog collapsed. Like all other inhabitants of the planet, his companions in the distant cave witnessed his death—but it was a death that symbolized a great victory. Because Calus, too, was dead.
The deadly beams fired by the robot also damaged the cameras, however. Everywhere on Zalit the viewscreens darkened. But everyone now knew that the tyrant was dead!
Something or other was sure to happen now. And not a few Zalites quailed in fright before this certainty.
Even Cagrib and his friends who sat silently and filled with doubt before their video receiver in the cave...
6/ THE HORSE GETS A-WAGGIN'
After Rosberg had stopped speaking and the micro-receiver became silent, it was almost two minutes before Rhodan replied:
"This is very tragic news, Rosberg. Osega's death was unnecessary."
"But it could be to our advantage, sir," answered Rosberg.
There was practically no danger of their hypercom transmissions being intercepted. The modulated carrier was on such a tight beam that no reception was possible even within a few kilometers of it. Nevertheless, some degree of precaution was indicated. If a ship happened to cross the beam, and if its own receiver happened by chance to be open at the same waveband, it was remotely possible that...
"A man's life is too valuable to be compensated for by any advantage no matter how great. Besides, Osega's death does us more damage and poses more danger than any possible advantages. What would happen if they examined the corpse? Also, Arkon is only going to send a new admiral to Zalit to take his place. So what do we do then—make another switch...?"
Rosberg had only heard the first part. "Good Lord! If they do an autopsy of any kind! Even a cursory examination could reveal to the Arkonides that Calus was exchanged and that they don't have an Arkonide body on their hands at all. What should I do?"
"Take that corpse out of the broadcast station, Rosberg! Let Pucky do it."
"It won't be that easy because from what I've heard they've already picked up the body and taken it away. Admiral Calus is to have a state burial on Arkon."
"Oh no—not that, too!" Rhodan pondered this for several seconds. "You've got to prevent it, no matter what. Now—what else do you have to report?"
Rosberg hesitated. He sounded uncertain when he spoke. "We have to consider that things are going to get tougher here on Zalit. The Regent has announced there will be a punitive expedition."
"You'll also have to handle that on your own when it comes, Rosberg. I can't help you now. Let me know if the situation gets critical. Until then—good luck!"
"Same for your side!" came the answer and then the connection was broken.
Atlan joined Gorlat, who had been listening in. "The situation's getting sticky!" he said tensely. "If the Regent finds out his assassinated Admiral Calus is actually a Terranian in disguise, we'll be sitting on top of a volcano, Perry. Let's hope Rosberg gets to bury Osega himself."
"Yes, let's hope so!" returned Rhodan grimly. However great the danger was, he could do nothing about it here. It was like a kind of destiny that one was helpless to influence. "Meanwhile we'd better make sure we don't have any hitches in our own operation. You know Seiko has found out that tomorrow they're going to start making detail assignments already. Let's see what kind of ship they are going to let us have."
"Without schooling or training?" asked Bell wonderingly.
"The Regent never loses any time. He's given orders that all experienced Zalite space officers should be given provisional commissions. They are to be assigned crews for 'practical' training during a series of checkout flights."
"Makes sense, you'll have to admit," muttered Atlan appreciatively. "But he certainly seems to be anxious to push his attack against the Earth. Strange, though, when he still has no idea where to look." He deliberately fell silent for a moment while he stared at Rhodan. Then he added: "Or perhaps...?"
"No chance," said Rhodan with seeming composure. "His main push is still against the Druufs." He looked out the window. Out there beyond the low-lying buildings lay the stony wastelands of a moon that had become an outpost of Arkon. Scraggly tatters of clouds were being driven by an icy wind so that they often obscured the light of the stars for brief moments. A bleak and desolate world, this, and yet it was here that the future fate of the Earth would have to be decided. At least where the first phase of that decision was concerned. "No, I don't think so, Atlan. Because if the Regent knew the position of the Earth we'd have heard about it by now from Marshal Freyt in Terrania. The Regent would have attacked us immediately."
"This head session is getting nowhere!" snorted Bell unceremoniously. He retired to his bed. "All this brainstorming inside a bucket where we can't see what's coming—I've had it! I'm going to sleep so I won't have to think. Anybody who wants my ration of snake fodder at supper is welcome to it!"
Although everyone was hungry, nobody took him up on it.
* * * *
By noon of the following day everything had been decided.
In accordance with the results of examinations and with the help of the Aras' computer data, Admiral Semekho had made his breakdown of detail assignments. During this process he had given consideration to Zalites with the highest I.Q. These were appointed to commanders or subordinate officers in charge of various ship's operations, and crews were assigned to them. Yet, at the same time Semekho had tried to keep already identified training groups together. It was only due to this circumstance that Rhodan and his men were not separated.
"So the name of our scow is Kon-Velete," mumbled Bell wearily. They had just come back to their quarters after an involved commissioning ceremony. "And our skipper is some guy named Ighur—who on the Q.T. bears the civilian name of Atlan. Semekho sure closed his eyes to whatever our ranks were before. Major Sesete and Major Roake got bumped down to only First and Second Mate. And I end up taking orders from a mere captain..."
Rhodan had the trace of a grin on his face. "What other choice did we have? At least we are quite properly under the command of an Arkonide—who is actually an Admiral, to boot. What more do you want?"
"Maybe a crying towel," muttered Bell.
Atlan interjected: "This whole affair is a bit more complicated than we suspect. On the one hand, the Kon-Velete is a brand-new battleship of the Stardust class, 800 meters diameter. We may be able to consider ourselves lucky that Admiral Semekho kept the crew down to only 200 men, but that still means we're going to be thrown together in close quarters with 50 unknown Zalites."
Rhodan shook his head. "We'd have to be just as careful as if we were by ourselves. I'm certain there
are hidden cameras on board these ships which keep the Regent and his staff officers advised as to how the new soldiers of the Imperium are handling themselves on their assignments. In other words, we've got to be two-faced. As Zalites we have to carry on as though we are not aware of being observed; but as Terranians we have to realize at every moment that we are being watched. That means we're still doing our masquerade every second while we're on board the Kon-Velete. Even in our bunks. Hopefully nobody has the habit of talking in his sleep!"
"I'm inclined to be more concerned about the situation on Zalit," said Gorlat uncertainly. "We don't know what's going on there. At least here we still have a chance to see what's happening but on Zalit.
He left his statement unfinished.
Before Rhodan could answer him the loudspeaker crackled. Robot 574 announced: "All crews assigned to their ships will go on board in two hours. Test flights will be under war-simulated conditions. Stand by for further orders."
The loudspeaker went silent. Atlan raised his eyebrows slightly. "They're really stepping up the pace," he remarked with a note of sarcasm.
* * * *
In certain respects the Kon-Velete was a disappointment. Of course it was so new that it had only come from the Arkon shipyards a day or so earlier but it had originally been designed for a robot crew. Very makeshift sanitary accommodations were the only indication that the vessel was now to be operated by humans. Crew quarters were uncomfortable and left just about everything to be desired.
Atlan seemed slightly uncertain as he stood in the Control Central. John Marshall, Gorlat, Bell and Rhodan were keeping him company after having determined that all hands, whether Terrans or Zalites, had been assigned to their stations. The ship was ready for takeoff.
John Marshall received Atlan's modulated radio signal at minimum power: "Can we use our microcoms for emergency communication? Ask Rhodan."
The telepath passed the message on soundlessly to Rhodan and he nodded. Then Atlan picked up the answer in his ear receiver: "Yes, but only when it's absolutely necessary. From now on we are Zalites who want to serve the Regent. We have to try to win the confidence of the robot Brain."
Atlan appeared to be reassured by this. It was a good feeling to be able to share opinions and get some advice in case of emergency.
So that no suspicion would be aroused, they had not neglected to assign important positions to the two Zalite officers, Lt. Kecc and Lt. Hopro. Their IQs were high enough to justify handling responsible jobs. On the basis of recommendations which Admiral Semekho himself had made, Lt. Kecc had become Chief Communications Officer of the Kon-Velete while Hopro was put in charge of technical personnel where he would be working with both Zalites and Terrans.
"Robots may be able to sleep in those bunks but no humans should try it if their bones are fragile," carped Bell in Zalite. He figured a normal amount of complaint might not be considered suspicious. "They could have done a better conversion job on Arkon. When do we get into action around here?"
Rhodan phrased his answer specifically for the ears of the Regent. "Don't forget that up till now most of Arkon's ships have been exclusively manned by robots. We should consider it an honor that we Zalites are replacing their infallible robots, Maj. Roake. Anyway, we have special robots on board who are backing us up, even though they are under the command of Capt. Ighur."
* * * *
Gorlat stood apart and was lost in thought as he scanned the controls that were along the forward bulkhead of the Control Central. The main viewscreen was active and it now revealed the spaceport of Naator So far as they knew by this time, there was more than one spaceport on the 5th planet's satellite.
The line of ships sat there in close formation. An entire fleet, ready to fly its first mission. If everything went according to plan, the day was not far off when the Admiral would receive final orders to hand over the whole fleet to Arkon itself.
"The Kon-Velete is certainly a mighty improvement over our Zalite cruisers," said "Rhodan with a straight-faced sanctimoniousness. "With ships like these, Arkon is sure to win the war."
"Quite right, Maj. Sesete," agreed Bell with an equal amount of hypocrisy, nor did he grin even for a moment. "I'm actually pretty proud to serve the Regent under Capt. Ighur."
Atlan was about to contribute an appropriate remark to the wordplay when the door of the Control Central opened and a robot entered. Turning to Atlan, the thing spoke to him in its rasping and coldly impersonal tone of voice: "Admiral Semekho has commissioned me to support you in your assignment. I was the commander of the Kon-Velete who brought the vessel here. I am at your disposal, Captain."
"Of course I shall try to fulfill my duties without your assistance," replied Atlan respectfully. It was the first time in his life he had ever shown personal respect to a robot but in case he was being monitored secretly he wanted to spread it on thick. "But I'll be grateful to you if you will watch to see that I don't make any mistakes."
"That is my specific duty," replied the robot.
Another viewscreen flashed to life. Semekho's face appeared. The Base Commander of Naator said: "In a few minutes the fleet will take off for practice manoeuvres. Each commander will maintain direct contact with me and will also receive from me his course instructions. Today all I want to establish is that commanders and their crews are well coordinated and work effectively together. Where this does not prove to be the case, the necessary replacements will be made. Are we all ready for takeoff? I am standing by for confirmations from the commanders."
Chief Com Officer Kecc stepped into the Control Central. He was a tall, typical Zalite and was apparently eager to serve. "Your contact with the Admiral is ready, Capt. Ighur I'll make sure the transceiver remains in operation at all times and that it may be used directly from the Control Central."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," replied Atlan. He then turned to the viewscreen where Semekho's face was still to be seen. "The Kon-Velete is ready for takeoff, Admiral. We are standing by for your instructions."
7/ PUCKY AND FIRE-EYES PERFORM
Pucky had not been able to accompany Rhodan to Naator because in spite of his willingness and his every available capability it had not been possible to change him into a Zalite. He was not alone in his assumed misfortune. There was one other mutant who would have betrayed himself by his form: the 'human fuse', Ivan Ivanovich Goratschin. For Ivan possessed two heads. However, this was not his most outstanding characteristic. At great distances he could manipulate any kind of matter containing the slightest trace of calcium or carbon and convert it into pure energy—usually in the form of a tremendous nuclear explosion.
When one used him effectively, Ivan constituted an incredibly dangerous weapon. In times past, Rhodan's greatest antagonist, the Mutant Master, had discovered this son of a Russian scientist in Siberia and had used him as a tool. After the defeat of the Mutant Master, Ivan became a member of the Mutant Corps.
• • •
The stifling silence gradually got on Maj. Rosberg's nerves. He looked askance at Pucky. "I don't see any way to keep Osega's body out of the clutches of the Arkonide investigating commission. We don't even know just now where it is—but I know that we'll be in a lousy mess if they find out that Calus isn't Calus!"
The mouse-beaver sat on a chair and permitted Betty Toufry to scratch his pelt, just as though he had no other care in the world. Across from him sat Ishy Matsu and the two-headed mutant.
"Aside from us present aliens and the Arkonides," said Pucky, "there are still about 20 million Zalites in Tagnor. All of these 20 million are thinking—even though most of it's nonsense and useless garbage. But they think, and that's the stickler. Each thought is an impulse, a tiny tendril to trace. Each of them has to be checked. So you can figure out for yourself how long it'll take to cover it all."
Rosberg knew this and made no reproaches. "Osega certainly can't give us the information any more. But they'll probably tell Admiral Calus—hey, what am I saying! Am I going out of my mind?"
"That's just the point!" agreed Rosberg. "Your capabilities are of no use to us in this case. The corpse simply has to disappear, no more and no less. But under no circumstances must it disappear by mysterious means. How do you like a complication like that!"
Maj. Rosberg was a soldier and liked to follow a straight line. This business of obtaining the corpus delicti had all the earmarks of a real criminal manoeuvre, and that was not his cup of tea.
Betty Toufry interrupted her telepathic searching to speak a word of consolation. "Maybe Toffner is onto something. At the moment I've lost him and his two friends but they're wandering around close to the palace."
"Let's hope so," said Rosberg. "And besides—it's hardly probable they could detect Calus' false identity right away. Osega is well disguised. Why should they X-ray a corpse right away?"
One of the scientists of the biochemical lab spoke up from the background. "We shouldn't think along those lines," he admonished. "The possibility of such a discovery is only about 5%. Of course even that is too much to tolerate. Osega has to be pulled out of wherever he is! And by the way..." he added, looking over at the curtained booths where his colleagues were. "What are we supposed to do now with the real Calus? Is he always going to be our prisoner?"
"Maybe Rhodan will let him go someday when this is all over with," replied Rosberg. "Anyway, we can't do anything with him now."
Betty had sunk back into a kind of meditation but now she suddenly looked up. When she spoke it was with a note of certainty. "I believe I've picked up a trace."