Galactic Alarm

by Perry Rhodan

  Rhodan was unable to observe Thora's reaction to Bell's squelch. He noticed only utter silence on her part. When Bell turned around, facing front again, the corners of his mouth were twitching while he tried to suppress a loud chuckle. They carried a large assortment of highly sensitive radiation counters on board. Rhodan hovered above the spot where they had located the remains of the former Arkonide cruiser while Bell carried out the necessary measurements for lingering radiation.

  There had been no fallout on the moon. Whatever radioactivity had been generated by the bombs had ether been shot straight out into space or remained on the ground. The lack of atmosphere at the same time lessened the danger for those who wanted to approach the site of the explosion. Whatever remained of the cruiser did not reveal whether any part of the gigantic vehicle had escaped total destruction. Rhodan knew that there was hope for the innermost cell. Its walls had been constructed of a type of metal plastic. This material possessed a field of crystallization that imparted a degree of hardness and constancy of temperature beyond that known by terrestrial metallurgy. Any hull made of this metal plastic would stand up to unbelievable stress and would withstand temperatures up to 80,000 degrees Celsius. The outside walls of the cruiser formed a chaotic tangle of molten and congealed material. Even if tile innermost cell had remained undamaged, they would have to find a way through this confusion of highly radioactive plastic metal to get at the cell.

  Bell announced, "Two microroentgens per hour!"

  "At an altitude of fifty miles," completed Rhodan. That means we will have to expect about fifty to a hundred roentgens per hour down at the origin of the radiation, considering the extent of the source."

  Reginald Bell nodded. "That means we can't use our own protective suits."

  Rhodan turned to Khrest. "This ship has protective clothing against high radiation on board, and we also carry a decontamination unit. There is no reason why we shouldn't land and inspect the wreck from nearby."

  Khrest had no objections; he simply nodded agreement. Rhodan landed the vessel about a mile from the outer limit of the area where the remnants of the former Arkonide cruiser lay scattered about.

  "I want to go out there with Reg. Whatever has to be done must be carried out quickly; we are just the right people for such a job. Khrest, I want to make sure that we remain in constant radio Communication. I don't want to run any more risks."

  As an additional safeguard, Rhodan stepped over to the steering console, disconnected the motors that supplied the propulsion power and ran them down to zero output. That would guarantee a delay of at least half an hour if anyone suddenly decided to start them. He wanted to make sure Thora could not take off at lightning speed, leaving them stranded in this radioactive bell. Khrest managed a faint smile of amusement. Thora did not move, but in her eyes the red pupils were scintillating with bright fury. Bell left the room to get the protective suits.

  These were far more efficiently constructed than the suits Rhodan and his crew had used for their first moon landing with the Stardust. It had then taken them about twenty minutes to put on their protective space suits, a feat that, if properly executed with all required control measures, taxed their patience. They were pleased that they could simply slip on the Arkonide suits like ordinary coveralls. A little light came on at the left wrist indicating that everything was in order. There were no cumbersome oxygen tanks, no heavy radio in the helmet, no insulating bulges around the neck to interfere with free head movements and prevent them from throwing their heads back if they wanted to look upward. The Arkonide suit produced its own oxygen supply from chemicals that took up hardly any space and were of negligible weight. The miniature telecom took up less space than a fingernail. The helmet was part of the suit and did not require airtight fitting.

  Rhodan and Bell armed themselves with needle ray beamers. It was most likely that the three exploded bombs bad blocked off the access to the interior of the interior of the cruiser. The needle ray beamer developed a focal temperature of close to 90,000 degrees Fahrenheit. They would have to resort to more efficient but heavier instruments if none of the hatches of the inner cell could be opened easily.

  Khrest gazed after the two Earthmen as they left the ship via one of its air locks. Thora paid no attention to them. She stood in front of a screen and stared at the wreckage of the formerly proud Arkonide research ship.

  "Watch her!" Rhodan admonished the Arkonide scientist, and it did not matter to him at all whether Thora heard his words.

  They switched on the generators and slowly penetrated the area of the explosion. The molten, formless pieces were a frightening sight at close range. No word was exchanged between the two men. Only Khrest's voice could be heard from time to time: "Everything okay aboard ship."

  Rhodan landed near the largest heap of wreckage he could find. It was most probable that it would contain the inner cell of the cruiser. Bell moaned as he threw his head back to see the top of the mountain of rubble.

  They began to work at once. The needle ray beamer cut the debris into big chunks and opened a passage for them. The dosimeter recorded ten roentgens, and they had been away from the ship barely ten minutes. The only reassuring factor was Khrest's repeated reports: "Everything okay aboard ship."

  An hour later they had advanced about twenty yards inside the rubble heap. Rhodan worried that the structure would not be sufficiently stable to tolerate a twenty yard wide bole in its interior. He asked Bell to stop working for a while and proceeded to knock at the surrounding material. He left his hand resting on the spot for a moment to watch for any unusual reactions. But be could not detect anything besides the vibrations that were to be expected from the metal plastic.

  Rhodan motioned to Bell to resume the work. In another hour they were really making headway. They reached large fissures and gaps inside the wreckage and could advance large stretches without having to use the needle ray beamer.

  "We have penetrated almost fifty yards," murmured Bell "We should have reached it by now."

  "Maybe we are already inside it!" ventured Rhodan.

  Bell turned around abruptly.

  Rhodan nodded. "We have no guarantee that the inner cell was able to withstand the bombing attack. The crystal field might have failed."

  Bell was breathing hard "Well, then ... !" he snorted, and pointed the beam against the nearest obstacle in their way.

  A moment later be shouted triumphantly, "Look here, Perry! We've made it!"

  Rhodan peered over his shoulder. The last piece of metal plastic had been detached from an expanse of smooth wall. This wall had not been affected by the heat of the explosion; they could see this right away. Rhodan knew that metal plastic crystal reinforcement was turquoise blue, the same as the wall Bell had uncovered.

  They resumed their endeavors with renewed strength and managed to expose large parts of the wall. Khrest began to put questions to them, but they answered him only briefly.

  "This seems to be a door!" Bell panted finally.

  He had found the small indentation in the wall. The line ran diagonally, a sign that the inner cell had changed position because of the explosion. It took another fifteen minutes for them to uncover the door completely. Rhodan knew that the door had been automatically sealed the instant the explosion occurred. He would need to find the special code that would unlock it again, provided the opening mechanism was still in working order.

  He pulled out the impulse set that he had brought along from the Arkonide vessel. It was a pencil-like rod about four inches long that contained a code sender; he pressed it against the door.

  Suddenly he felt the ground tremble beneath him. The door seemed to strain, as if it wanted to open. There were heaving and squeaking in the door joints, but only a hairbreadth wide chink became visible. Then it closed again, unable to overcome the forces pulling against it.

  Rhodan motioned to Bell. The door was about man size and not too heavily built. Human muscle power would supply the additional push needed to open it c
ompletely.

  Once more Rhodan applied the impulse set; once again the ground began to vibrate and a tiny gap showed itself along the edge of the door. This time the opening was a bit wider, just big enough so that Bell could insert his gloved fingertips and get a firm grip on it.

  He leaned heavily against the door frame, all the while pulling at the door with all his might. Rhodan kept the impulse set constantly pressed against the turquoise plastic metal of the door slab.

  Bell changed his position and renewed his efforts. The obstacle gave way so suddenly that Bell was thrown violently back against the wall of the corridor. The fully opened door revealed a darkened closet size air lock. Khrest's voice came over the radio. "Everything okay here. How is it going with you?"

  "We are facing a difficult decision," replied Rhodan. "The door is finally open. The air lock seems to be in fine working order. We had a hard time prying the entrance open. if we enter now in the regular manner, we might risk not being able to open the door again from the inside when we want to leave."

  "Well, what is your problem then?" inquired Khrest.

  "I can open the other end of the air lock without first closing the door leading to the outside. But then the air inside the inner cell would rush out with explosive force."

  "Would that endanger you?" asked Khrest. "Can't you take cover in time?"

  "We can take care of ourselves; we are perfectly safe here," said Rhodan.

  "But how about any possible survivors inside the cell? How about their chances of living through that?"

  Khrest's heavy breathing became quite audible. "This seems most improbable. If anybody had lived through the atomic bombing, he would long since have found a Way to establish communication with us."

  "What if he was seriously wounded and could not move at all?"

  Khrest sighed deeply. Then he spoke up calmly. "Just go ahead and open the inside door of the air lock. We can't afford to take any more chances now. We desperately need objects inside the cell. We must get them immediately!"

  Rhodan nodded, approving Khrest's decision. He would not have chosen a different solution, but in moments like these it seemed better to share responsibility.

  Reginald Bell took the impulse set from Rhodan and walked over to the other end of the air lock. "Here is a good spot where I can take cover. Perry, stay outside!"

  The door to the interior functioned perfectly. As it opened a, rush of air escaped, accompanied by a cloud of dust and a few small objects that had not been fastened down. The heavy air wave lasted but a second. Then the atmosphere had completely vanished.

  As Rhodan entered the air lock, Bell jumped up from behind his shelter.

  "Good grief!" he moaned. "That felt as if somebody hit me over the head with a sandbag."

  Rhodan peered inside the cell. It was pitch dark. He switched on the searchlight on his helmet and lit up the way that leading to the interior of the cell. He noticed that the interior had been much more severely damaged by the force of the explosion than had the outside hull. The pressure had turned everything upside-down and even torn heavy instruments from their positions. Many items had been destroyed or damaged beyond repair. But quite a few things could still be used. They would save themselves a lot of trouble if they brought everything back to Earth with them.

  Bell was eagerly investigating this treasure trove. just as Rhodan was about to call out to his friend, Khrest's excited voice came over the radio.

  "Emergency! Rhodan, Bell! Return at once!"

  Rhodan stopped. "What's happened?"

  "Hurry back as fast as you can! Don't lose a moment!" urged Khrest. Rhodan whirled and took off. Bell followed. They switched off the artificial gravity and pushed out through the sinuous corridor they bad blasted for themselves a short time ago.

  Once outside, they set their generators for countervalues and sailed in a high arc over the Arkonide ship. Khrest had already opened the air lock for them. They lost precious seconds while the air lock was pumped full of air. Khrest received them directly behind the inner door to the air lock. He was trembling, and his eyes shone red.

  "What's the matter?" inquired Rhodan abruptly.

  "Something terrible has happened," whispered Khrest. Rhodan ran toward the command center. Khrest hardly keep up with him.

  "Thora has activated a hyperprobe. This was not against our agreements, and I did not prevent her from doing it."

  Rhodan nodded briefly, removing his space suit while still hurrying to get to the command center. Hyperprobes were intended to locate the directional beam of a hypersender. The beam could be aimed to a fraction of an inch, and wherever it did not hit directly, it was unnoticeable. However, there were fully automatic probes, small vessels the size of a man's hand, that could search a certain area inch by inch and find any hyper-directional beam that might be present.

  Rhodan and Khrest reached the command center. Thora was standing leaning against the control panel, her face turned toward them. Rhodan recognized the mixture of pride and sarcasm in her expression.

  Rhodan wasted only a brief glance at her.

  Khrest continued his report, his voice quivering with excitement. "The probe searched for some time outside without any success. But suddenly it did locate something."

  "What did it locate?" Rhodan urged impatiently.

  "The impulses of our hypersender ..." Khrest motioned quickly over to the picture screen that showed the image of the destroyed cruiser. "Coming from our wrecked spaceship over there. Automatic emergency signals. Do you know what that means?"

  Rhodan understood at once. More than that, he also understood the consequences. Each Arkonide spaceship was equipped with a hypersender whose capacity was, of the same structure, seen mathematically, as that of the hyper-gravitational field that made possible the faster than light flight though the universe. Hyperwaves traveled with barely any loss of time across any distance and therefore represented the ideal means of communication in an era that calculated in light-years with the same matter of fact attitude as earthlings bad done with miles until recently.

  Every hypersender had an emergency switch that was activated as soon as anything happened to the spaceship carrier, regardless of whether it was caused by outside interference or mechanical failure inside the ship. Once set in motion the sender broadcast a certain signal uninterruptedly. Furthermore, it compressed the beam and directed it toward the next receiving station. Rhodan was informed that the receiver to which the signal was beamed from the destroyed cruiser emergency was on Myra IV. He knew that was nothing but cold deserted planet in the vicinity of a dying sun, about 800 light-years from here. This planet was so inhospitable that the Empire had stationed only the usual outpost detachment of robot ships.

  The consequences could be easily foreseen. The robot ships would receive the emergency signals, then set out to approach the sender. They would determine that the cruiser had been destroyed by rockets, and they would then proceed to locate the spot where these missiles had originated and take revenge on the perpetrators of the attack.

  In this case the perpetrators were Earthlings, and therefore they, as well as all other inhabitants of Earth, would be annihilated, together with their planet. There was no doubt that it was in the power of the robot ships to mete out full punishment to the offender.

  The hypersender of the wrecked Arkonide exploratory vessel on the moon was sending out the emergency signals. This meant simply that within forty-five days after the destruction of the ship, someone would try to turn Earth into a rubble heap. And the way things looked now, Earth would not be able to fend off this attempt.

  The only people who could help Earth in its plight were not at all in accord. Rhodan glanced over at Khrest. Khrest seemed to guess his thoughts.

  "I have started the motors already," he said.

  Rhodan was relieved and thankful. "Let's start as quickly as possible, then."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Umanak Fjord, David Strait.

  This is, according to
anyone who has ever been there, where it is impossible to distinguish the gray sky from the equally gray icebergs. There hardly exists a more disconsolate place on Earth. On the other hand, nowhere else on Earth are such important decisions made. Umanak Fjord is headquarters of the International Intelligence Agency, which for the time being was just as overrun by foreign agents as by those of the IIA.

  Very little was to be seen above ground. A few thick walled wooden houses belonging to a Danish trading firm were lived in by some Eskimos. On one of the houses a primitive wooden board nailed above the front door said in crooked painted letters that furs were sold in this establishment. But no one had ever purchased any furs from the Umanak Fur Co.

  The Eskimos were well trained special agents. The manager of the post was a Dane. In reality he held the rank of first lieutenant and was Allan D. Mercant's special pet.

  The rest of the installation was hidden under ice and rock. More than ninety-five percent of all activities at Umanak fjord were carried on underground. About 500 people lived permanently at Umanak Fjord. Only ten of those were familiar with the extent of the underground installations. The agents of the Asiatic Federation and of the Eastern Bloc who lived here during these days of enforced cooperation knew only the two upper stories. Colonel Mercant's living and working quarters were on the lowest level of the tract. He was surrounded by security guards and safety installations. Not that he was afraid for his own personal safety. What mattered to him and to those responsible for these precautionary measures was the tremendous number of valuable and secret documents stored in safes built into the lowest floor. Mercant worked in his private office, which he had furnished according to his own taste. The furniture was outsized. Any visitor had to look around this office and its gigantic furnishings to locate the colonel. Mercant as a rule he sat behind a giant writing desk, comfortably leaning back in an armchair that was far too big for his slender figure. His head was hardly visible above the edge of his desk.