by Perry Rhodan
Major Deringhouse, who had approached within nearly a mile of the Good Hope in his swift fighter as a result of the mother ship's breaking manoeuvre, suddenly witnessed the conversion of the space sphere into a hurling ball, as though it had been struck by a bat. He was in the best position to observe that the weird energy beam had only glanced off the lower hemisphere of the hull; yet it left a bright white glow. The Arkon steel melted down like butter in the piercing heat. Glistening metallic vapors billowed from the underpart of the ship and threw a flaming comet's tail of burning gases into its wake. The bright gleam of the defense screen was extinguished-all he could see was that white glowing underhull.
He called desperately to Rhodan and others of the crew on board the Good Hope, but there was no answer. It was all he could do to follow the ill fated, reeling hulk that fled from the terrible punishment it was taking. Far ahead glided the spherical super giant, its weapon turrets flaring destruction. It was transforming the semi-orderly Ferron defense line into a scattering confusion of dodging, panic driven shapes, which were being decimated by the terrible onslaught of this immeasurably superior firepower.
It spelled a death blow for the Ferrons. White faced and dry eyed, Deringhouse stared at the visiscreen of his fighter. The Good Hope was racing toward the ninth planet, the mortal scar on its hull still glowing fiery red.
"Apparently they must have survived that hit," said Captain Klein's voice over the intercom from the second fighter ship. "Let's wait it out. That was only a flesh wound. If I have to I can try to anchor onto the upper launch tube. They're only traveling at thirty percent of light speed."
"A flash wound?" Deringhouse laughed bitterly. "Where in the devil did this space monster come from?" Suddenly, there it was, with no warning at all. Come on, close in. They're flying straight toward the planet!"
8/
The Good Hope required eight hours to complete the journey with its two remaining utility drivers. It would have gone faster if the badly damaged inertial neutralizers had been working. Since they were out of action, deceleration was limited to the absorption capacity of the intermittently operating projectors.
The entrance into the thick atmosphere of the ninth planet was like a high dive into water. Rhodan was forced to subject the crew to an extremely high G deceleration, because the inertial forces generated could no longer he absorbed. Also, he had to pour on the rough retropulsion fast, because at first contact with the air molecules the recoil and shock field projectors ceased to function.
So it was that the auxiliary craft hurtled downward through the thickening air masses like a glowing meteor. If the antigrav units had also given up the ghost, undoubtedly the Good Hope would have been violently shattered. It was barely possible to break the fall of the almost weightless vessel, but the landing completed their disaster. The gear on the hull's underside had been destroyed. During the wearisome deceleration they had not dared to attempt repairs because aside from high temperatures deadly gamma radiations had been detected emanating from the injured area.
The fact remained that in the fraction of a second out there the Good Hope had become a hopeless wreck. There could he no further thought about faster than light space travel now. The hyperconverters, indispensable to the generation of a protective warp field, were totally destroyed. Repair crews in protective suits had found only fused clumps of metal later when they broke into the converter compartment. Other gear might have been returned to a workable condition, but the essential equipment was beyond hope.
Even before Perry Rhodan entered the atmosphere under Chaktor's guidance, he was aware of the incontrovertible fact that he had become a prisoner of the Vega system.
Following their landing in the ninth planet's main city, they were very frigidly received by the Ferronian space officers. The precaution was taken to remove the badly damaged Good Hope from the unprotected landing field. Now it lay in a deep bunker, the most practical place that could he found on this distant world, still cooling slowly and popping like an iron.
Klein and Deringhouse made perfect landings in their swift space fighters, but Perry sent them back up to cover the returning Ferronian fleet's landing, since he considered this much contribution to the defense as indispensable. After Deringhouse reported over hyperwave that the strange giant battleship had closed ranks with the Topidian invasion fleet, a cold smile touched his lips. From then on he didn't have much to say. They found themselves on a strange world among alien people who seemed to regard the heavy damage to the Good Hope with strongly mixed feelings. Dr. Haggard's psychological analysis of the situation was superfluous. Rhodan well knew that the initial storm of enthusiasm for him and the valiant Good Hope had been toned down conspicuously.
Chaktor, the Ferron they had fished out of the void, sat somberly in the control room. Bell and the technicians were there, trying to make at least the more essential controls functional. Khrest seemed to be inwardly broken. He sat in a corner, dull and apathetic. Thora, more sensitive than the Arkonide scientist, struggled against an incipient nervous breakdown.
The mutants hovered about, attempting to evaluate the situation. Ralf Marten, who possessed the most unusual gifts among the group, probed the immediate and more distant surroundings. He had been sitting for about an hour in one of the control seats as though entranced. From time to time he revealed what he had seen and heard through the eyes and ears of the Ferron leaders. It seemed that the general mood in relation to the landed humans was not malevolent. There was merely a general disillusionment after their initial faith in the Good Hope had come to such an abrupt end. The telepaths confirmed Marten's findings.
In view of this, Rhodan finally issued instructions to return the fighter robots to their compartment. Reginald Bell emerged from the narrow manhole of the emergency stairs. The antigrav lifts had ceased to function. Cursing softly, Bell peeled himself out of the heavy protective suit and reached immediately for a cigarette. Meanwhile, those present in the control room had developed the impression that Perry Rhodan had changed into a silent dreamer. He had hardly spoken a word, after issuing the orders concerning the robots.
Now he raised his head. Thoughtfully, he got up from the control chair. Glances were exchanged all around.
"Sol?"
The single word seemed to hang in the air, threatening trouble.
Bell shrugged his shoulders. He ground out the barely lit cigarette under his heel. "Finished,~ he said, with no trace of emotion on his broad face. "We've done what we could. That ray beam from the super giant did us in. I'm finally grasping what Khrest always meant when he insisted on calling this an auxiliary boat. Against a real battleship we couldn't show any teeth at all, and we always thought we had a powerful fighting instrument in our hands."
"We had enough teeth to put the Topides in their place."
Granted, but we would have been a ridiculous nonentity against Arkonide cruisers. And if you bump into a superclass battleship with ray beams bigger than the Good Hope itself, then..."
He interrupted himself with a harsh laugh. After a moment he concluded curtly. "So, what is there left to say about it? We're stuck. It's a real miracle that we were able to land at all. The pulse drive system needs a complete overhaul. Hyperjumps are no longer possible. Since the Ferrons don't know anything about the principle, maybe we'll have to stay in the Vega system forever. To put it mildly, this is the worst blow that the Third Power has been hit with to date. Our hypertransmitter is still working. We're repairing the power source. At least with that we'll be able to send a report to Earth. It'll be up to Colonel Freyt now whether Terra remains strong and unified or not. In spite of our own disgraceful luck, at least our people will be able to complete the new ships. It's possible with good conditions that they could pick us up in about two years."
"It's a tempting idea and well taken, but it's untenable," Perry advised with granite calm. "The new ships will never fly without our own special knowledge."
Bell suddenly looked crestfallen. An oppre
ssive silence pervaded the control room. Only the special robots continued their repair work undistractedly. The incapacitated detection system had to be put back in service as quickly as possible.
"I sense strong excitement in neighboring space," announced Betty Toufry. She sat with closed eyes and continued speaking. "Very great consternation among the Ferrons. Confused thought streams. A very high ranking person seems to have abandoned them."
"Abandoned?" Rhodan stressed the word, as though it might have several connotations. "Can you furnish any specific data?"
"No. Their thoughts are too confused—all worked up. There is a mood of panic."
"Marten, see if you can grab on to a cognizant Ferronian consciousness—somebody in the area she's talking about. Betty, work with him. Marshall, plug yourself into this, too."
Between Rhodan and Bell, the air began to shimmer. Teleportationist Tako Kakuta appeared. His small child's face showed the first symptoms of exhaustion. Since the landing he had been flitting about continually.
"There is chaos on the whole planet," he reported. "But it looks like the Topides are avoiding a direct attack—just a few recon ships in wide orbit. The planet is young, Earth climate, still only sparsely settled. There are oceans, mountains, and wide plains. Just like at home. This city is called Jugnor, the only large settlement on the planet of Rofus. The main space port is here, but there are hardly any Ferronian ships left. Almost all of them have taken off. Only a few damaged units are lying about the countryside. Any further orders, Chief?"
"Take a breather, Tako," Rhodan murmured pensively. "You look tired. For the time being we couldn't care less what our surroundings look like. This planet is probably like 10,000 others of the same type. It's strange, but I'm gradually beginning to think in cosmic terms." He laughed, then added cryptically. "No more extracurricular activities, Take. I'll soon have to send you on some difficult missions."
Only Reginald Bell detected the nuances in Rhodan's voice. He seemed to be listening to his own inner sensors. Finally he looked up and his eyes narrowed. Dryly, he whispered, "You're cooking something, old man!"
A hypertransmission report came in. Major Deringhouse appeared on the visiscreen. It spared Rhodan from giving Bell a direct answer.
"We're standing close to the central planet," came Deringhouse's filtered voice. "The last Ferronian defense line has been smashed. We've destroyed ten Topidian ships, but now Big brother out here is beginning to give us the look. He seems to think maybe we're a hit too playful. What shall I do, sir? He's turning our way—I have him on the survey sensors. Shall I attack?"
"You've lost your marbles," replied Rhodan. "Set down immediately—full power! Make a diversion path like a pretzel, and don't you let that gorilla swipe you with a ray beam! I still have plans for you, buddy, so get down here on the double!"
"Sir, that won't make friends and influence people in Ferronialand. Our two fighters are worth a hundred of their egg crates! Maybe it sounds corny, but we've become the backbone of the Ferronian fleet!"
"You and Klein pull out of there. When that battleship loses interest in you, maybe you can return. In the mean time, disappear. How do things look to you on the eighth planet?"
"The Topides have started landing operations, but it's not a planetwide blitz—their attacks are only against obvious military defense centers. The cities are being spared. We can count the nuclear blasts down there—none of it very strong."
Rhodan switched off. The situation had developed as he had suspected. He smiled grimly. "I had a good hunch in not landing us on Ferrol—that's become the hot spot now. Those lizards are landing there—they're going to knock it into line, Topide style, and then strike out at the colonial planets. So for the present, we have a sanctuary. What's the matter with him?"
He looked across at Chaktor. The blue skinned Ferron stood in front of the short range visiphone and carried on an obviously excited conversation with another man of his race.
Betty Toufry put herself in rapport with them. Khrest remained in his state of dull apathy, the victim of ultimate resignation.
For the time being it seemed that no untoward event was to be expected, at least not here. Deringhouse supported this consensus by reporting excitedly that the giant battleship had turned its attention from the small space fighters and was apparently set for a landing on planet number eight.
"We weren't faster than they were, just more nimble and frisky. I am continuing reconnaissance."
At this moment Rhodan switched suddenly from his apparent lethargy to his old self, galvanized for decisive action.
"Khrest!"
The sharply spoken word brought the Arkonide abruptly out of his stupor. He looked into a pair of eyes that glistened with hard decision.
"Before you get lost in yourself, I'd like to request a bit of information. Are you certain that that space monster is actually a space battleship of your own race?"
"Naturally," Khrest answered. "Otherwise, nothing could have conquered us."
"It isn't logical that Arkonides would take part in or give support to an invasion by nonhumans. Therefore, the ship must be manned by Topides. One small question—how did those freaks get hold of a ship that is the most powerful class of battlewagon in the whole imperial fleet?"
Khrest shrugged helplessly. He seemed to have no answer. Thora stared blankly at the wall.
"There are two possibilities," Rhodan continued. "Either the battleship has gone over to the Topides under control of decadent Arkonide officers or it was simply captured. Considering the carelessness and lethargy of your people, God knows that wouldn't be surprising! In either case, however, the further question arises—how can the Topides manage to handle the complex Arkonide instruments and equipment with such an expert touch? Captive Arkonides have handed over their knowledge."
"That is an insult!" said Thora.
"I'm recalling our own experiences with you. You were in trouble yourselves, and so you trained us. The main difference is that you fell into the hands of humans, not Topides. Thora, I want you to start training our men immediately."
She drew herself up haughtily. He moved over to the Ferron, who was still speaking excitedly into the visiphone. On the screen, in addition to Chaktor's countryman, a large vaulted hall was visible.
"What training are you talking about?" asked the Arkonide woman, amazed. Khrest's features tautened. Bell grinned knowingly. He knew his former captain like a book. For Rhodan there was no such concept as "impossible."
"Seven of my men were killed in our recent skirmish. Therefore, in your capacity as a former cruiser commander, you will see to it that the forty-three surviving crewmen are placed in readiness to operate the most essential control units of a super battleship—or are they manageable by only one person?"
"Impossible! In spite of a high level of automation, at least three hundred fully trained people are mandatory. You are insane! You simply can't—"
"I shall, and what's more—soon," Perry interrupted. "Or did you assume that I was going to spend the rest of my life on a planet of the Vega system? Ferronian spaceships are limited to light speed and are therefore of no interest to us. We could probably never unsnarl lizard logic sufficiently to figure out the Topide system of hypertravel. So the only choice remaining is to dig into that Arkonide battleship, where we'd eventually have a chance of understanding its operation. We're going to take the whole hog. You will start the training without delay. Thank you."
That was all. All persons present exchanged significant glances. Only the two Arkonides remained troubled and confused.
Finally, Thora half whispered, "Has it occurred to you that the battleship has probably landed on the eighth Planet by now?"
A fleeting ironic smile touched Rhodan's lips. "I'm starting on that problem now," he said softly. "Have you noticed a few background details in that visiphone screen that Chaktor is talking into? Take a look at those heavy, pillar-shaped pieces of equipment with the heavy duty cable connections. You should
remember that Khrest mentioned something about some s-called matter transmitters the Ferronians have, which are able to convert any kind of matter into energy and transmit it. Very well—what you see glimmering in those force fields may well be organic life!"
They became aware of the dull, heavy humming sound coming out of the loudspeakers. Chaktor pointed excitedly at the screen and shouted several words at Betty Toufry.
She turned immediately: "in his thoughts I see a high ranking personality. It's getting clearer. He calls this high person 'thort'—its not a common name, but a title. That's it—a title, like emperor or king, but it seems even more than that The Thort is the supreme ruler."
"They're abandoning a sinking ship," Rhodan muttered with narrowed eyes. "Women and children are also arriving. That means the ruling family has made an exodus from their besieged home planet to seek refuge here. Things are getting interesting."
Chaktor addressed him in great perturbation.
Betty paraphrased from his consciousness: "The Thort requests an immediate conference with you, The chief of the Ferronian fleet gave him a complete report hours ago. The Thort has been given exact details of our participation, including our getting shot down. You won't have to take up time explaining all that."
Whereas Rhodan restricted himself to a thoughtful clearing of the throat, Bell gasped in sudden excitement "Good Lord! If the supreme ruler himself has climbed into a transmitter just to talk to you, that really means something! These people are way out ahead of humankind on Earth If you can wrangle a good deal out of him! Man! Save your credit cards!"
"There's the slight detail of getting back to Earth first," Rhodan retorted. "Right now we're going to keep up the role of superiority with these people. In fact, there's no other choice if we don't want to pull a major deception on these fellows when their back is to the wall. We and the Good Hope are apparently their last hope. Besides that..."