by Perry Rhodan
Goratschin's particular gift was among the most dangerous of all mutant powers. The superhuman force-flow from both brains could produce a nuclear fission at the center of any chosen target area without any mechanical equipment. Goratschin could excite nuclear reactions in all calcium-carbon compounds and calcium and carbon materials were universally abundant. Thus, the capability of the ungainly, scaly-green giant was the most frightening.
I looked at the other mutants. I knew them all and I also knew how Rhodan had recruited them and won their support. Practically speaking, I found myself in a group of relative immortals, because Rhodan had been able to win for each of his super-capable and indispensable people the cell-preserving rejuvenation treatments. I had come to realize that these beings could conquer the galaxy if they wished. It seemed to me that Rhodan employed their powers a bit too casually—and in this there were certain hazards.
It was quite amazing that the mutants did not become intoxicated with their own power. In fact, at one time there had been a small revolt which Rhodan had been able to quell with the help of the other mutants. If they should ever decide to make a united uprising it would certainly lead to an awesome situation.
Betty Toufry, the sensitive telepath, was watching me with obvious penetration. Apparently I had relaxed my thought screen. I chuckled and her tension subsided. In spite of her gift she had evidently only been able to catch a few fragments of my thoughts. Pucky was sleeping with his mouth open and occasionally his short little legs would jerk like those of a dreaming puppy.
Rhodan was engaged in a new mission briefing with Mercant and some scientists from the Drusus. They talked about using an inconspicuous ship in order to search for the area where the conspirators had landed with their antigrav packs. Perhaps the strangers' objective was close to that point. At least we could think of no logical reason they would have preferred jumping from the Arkonide craft thousands of miles away from the spaceport. In view of the clever strategy of the theft and because of the hypno-block on the pilot, thinking themselves safe, they logically had sped for a secret rendezvous.
Mercant was hoping to pick up a clue very soon. A few minutes later at the nearby spaceport the commander of the California received an order to launch a modern interplanetary 'Space Jet' and fly over the jump zone at an altitude between 10 and 20 kilometers. The special frequency detector was highly sensitive. My cell activator, of course, would be radiating a continuous series of stimulus pulses which were meant for the use of my body. We would track them down shortly but the short amount of time might be more than I could afford.
Col. Sikerman, was normally the commander of the Fleet for the duration of this special mission, while Reginald Bell had taken his place on board the super battleship. Everything was well organized but it was now high time for them to find the device that was so essential to my existence.
I looked again at my watch. Since the theft, 48 hours and 36 minutes had passed. I had only about 11½ hours left.
When Sikerman reported the takeoff of the space-jet I contacted the Robot Regent and instructed him to give free rein to the small Terranian spacecraft. Otherwise it would surely have been forced down—or even shot down—by the automatic airspace traffic control installations. It was not easy to go pleasure flying over Arkon 2.
The Brain confirmed and shut off but only a second later the green signal light blinked again on my command transceiver. Rhodan noticed it and his face grew tense. I looked in some surprise at the device strapped to my forearm. Why was the Robot calling back almost in the same moment that it had shut off?
When I pressed the contact button and raised the micro-lens of the video device to look at it more closely I realized that this was a message from another section of the Robot's circuits. It consisted of millions of circuits and registers which all had their specific purpose.
In that moment no one as yet suspected that all of our planning had become useless. Something had come up which not even Mercant had foreseen.
"Regent to His Eminence," came the metallically brittle voice from the microspeaker. "Results of data request 122-A, reference unknown persons who jumped from spacecraft Heter-Kon. The photo prints I copied were sent to the memory bank section. One of the men could be identified. There are photographic and personal data available concerning this man because of his conviction 18 years ago for having unlawfully operated a private biophysical laboratory.
"Personal data: name, Segno Kaata; age unknown. He is a high priest of the local Baalol Temple and chief of the Baalol cult within the Arkon System.
"The Baalol cult is the wealthiest and most powerful sect in the known galaxy. In the Arkon System alone the number of adherents reaches 200 million Arkonides! This includes Naats and other intelligences of local origin. The cult does not worship any deity. I repeat: they worship no deity! The purposes of the sect are obscure. My data indicate, with a 100% factor of probability, that the various high priests of the Baalol cult have never made an attempt to gain political or military power. On the other hand, it has been determined also with the same factor of certainty that the leading members of the cult play decisive roles in economic and business spheres. From all appearances they are closely associated with the Galactic Traders and the Aras. The teachings of the sect include the scientific preservation of mental and physical health. Knowledge of their secret sciences has only come by hearsay and rumor but they are estimated to be of vast significance.
"Attention—important item: the actual origin of the Baalols, as their high priests are called, cannot be determined. It is assumed that they are descendants of early Arkonide emigrants and colonists. Though the Baalols have never themselves colonized a planet, they are to be found on all known planets of the galaxy.
• • •
"The following data pertains to the structure of the cult: persons who are not the offspring of marriages between Baalols cannot become priests of the sect. The logical inference from this is that the offspring possess definite mental and physical characteristics. It is known that the priests of the cult seem to produce the best and most powerful bodily defense screens. With regard to the aforementioned arrest of the local high priest Segno Kaata, my investigation of the legendary energy screen did not at the time yield any positive results. The equipment was in standard usage; however with others it could never generate the impenetrable fields of force which it could when being worn by a Baalol.
"The assumption is made that the Baalols have faculties or capacities which may be the result of some unknown form of mutation. The greatest caution is advised. Their priests are considered to be invulnerable. End of communication, Your Eminence."
The loudspeaker crackled but the Robot held its reception channel open. Rhodan looked at me nonplussed. Allan D. Mercant smiled enigmatically. The mutants who were present exchanged significant glances. They seemed to be the first to realize that something of a menacing nature had been uncovered.
"Baalol Cult...?" said John Marshall pointedly. "Well!"
I hastily instructed the Regent to stand by for further orders. Then I shut off the connection. The Robot had reported simply what was stored in its memory banks. I did not expect to learn anything further from the positronicon.
The Chief of Solar Intelligence turned to me. "Do you know of these mysterious priests, sir?" There was a note in his voice which caused me to grow pale. Yes, I had heard of the Baalols.
"I don't have much else to add to the Regent's statement," I confessed. "The cult has been in existence for more than 10,000 years, so if a mutation is involved it must have happened in recent history. Since my assumption of office as Imperator, I have heard little about them."
Mercant nodded. Rhodan stood deep in thought before the darkened screen of the synthesis projector as though searching for something that had eluded him.
"There are some things about this I can't figure out, Atlan. How can a normal defense screen generator operate in an ordinary manner with ordinary Arkonides and yet build up an impenetra
ble personal shield for one of these priests? There's a crass contradiction here somewhere! Those microprojectors can't just put out a thousand times more energy just because a Baalol is wearing one. But if something like that happens, then it can't be the device itself—it has something to do with some special capacity of these people. If we accept that as the most likely explanation, then it's fairly certain that a recent mutation has occurred. Why wasn't this change in them noticed before now?"
He turned his head to stare at me but I could only shrug my shoulders.
"Hm-m," he mumbled to himself. His grey eyes flashed mockingly. "So we can probably lay the blame for this, too, on the frightening negligence of the Arkonide administrative offices, right? 10,000 years ago they were sharper, though, so why has all this time passed without any deeper investigation into this situation?"
This question I could answer. "In those days they apparently kept pretty much under cover. During the time of my service as a squadron chief of the Fleet, I don't recall having come across any mysterious or disturbing incidents of this nature. Had such been the case, we would have looked into the matter... The Arkonides of my day were capable of acting swiftly and effectively."
Mercant was polite but incisive when he spoke. "These considerations are immaterial at present. We know where we have to strike. Let's not lose time. The pilot's mental impression of the culprit turned out to be valid, after all. Let's see what the Temple has to offer us."
There was suddenly a storm of activity in the camouflaged headquarters of the Terranians. Orders flew thick and fast. The forces Rhodan was mobilizing would have been sufficient to subjugate the populace of an entire planet.
Reginald Bell received a takeoff order by radio. Rhodan wanted the mighty Drusus close at hand.
Five minutes later the activator was traced down. It was indeed in the Baalol Temple of Arkon 2. One possibility had not been evident from the available data. There was never more than one temple on any planet. But there seemed to be a deeper significance behind it.
One hour later the Drusus was with us. The commando troops received definite instructions. I mobilized the robot units under control of the Regent. The planet was ringed by mighty ships of war. Heavy flying tank units were held on standby at their deployment depots.
As a first move, we were going to attempt an occupation of the Temple with a small commando unit. As we entered the personnel aircraft for the first thrust, I noted that 51 hours and three minutes had passed since the theft. My period of grace was running out fast.
We did not know if the priests were equipped with modern tracking devices. Just in case, however, we planned to approach the temple as inconspicuously as possible. It lay outside the metropolis of Torgona on a flat hilltop but was easily accessible by the main roads and arterial highways.
Behind us came special Terranian commando units which could be reinforced at any time with robot troops. The long night period of Arkon 2 came to our aid. Still it was questionable whether or not we could surround the temple grounds without being detected beforehand.
6/ PUCKY MEETS THE ANTI-FORCE
Arkon 2 had no moons. When my forefathers forced what were then planets two and four from their natural orbits to incorporate them by a protracted process into a single orbit with number 3, they refrained from adding moons to what was already the most complex system in the galaxy.
Nevertheless it was not entirely dark. The next period of rain, controlled by the Robot Brain, was not due until the following night; thus the skies were cloudless—and the light of the countless stars came through unhindered. This was another kind of glittering and gleaming than was known to the distant Earth. Here we were in the center of a star cluster whose density of suns was sufficient to also illumine the landscape by night and we could see well enough to be able to dispense with our infra-red equipment.
As we made our approach, the temple buildings transmitted a depressing impression to us. Far from being related to the inverted cone-type of architecture of the Arkonides, the structures reflected an alien concept of design. The Baalol Temple almost resembled a fortress. Concentric outer walls and out-thrusting bastions with narrow access ways gave the buildings, visible within the walls, a foreboding appearance. Mostly spherical in shape, supported by spires inlaid with precious metals, the buildings towered high into the sky. And, from the highest roof, a blood-red light cast its rays far over the surrounding terrain.
According to plan, the extensive gardens outside the building complex were surrounded within minutes. Three thousand men of the Terranian landing force waited in the deeper darkness for Rhodan's command to attack. Special robots with this unit started sounding a wide strip of land around the temple in search of secret subterranean passages. It did not take long for the precision sensors to locate eight tunnels at varying depths below.
When Rhodan received this information, he smiled grimly. Then he issued his orders which soon indicated that he was taking no chances. Heavy armored gun carriers descended out of the night on their antigrav beams. They landed precisely in those areas where the sounding sensors had discovered the underground passages. At once these battle vehicles swept their impulse beams downward at a sharp angle. Suddenly an inferno was unleashed! Having discovered the escape tunnels, we gave the enemy no quarter. Under no circumstances, would they be allowed to escape.
Starburst energy beams bored into the ground which at first glowed with molten white light and then vaporized entirely. The tunnels were reached by cannon-created shafts which caused the passages to partially melt. The cave-ins were completed by vibration bombs which were then thrown into the shafts. The highly specialized technical crews who guided the operation worked swiftly and reliably, fully cognizant of the stakes involved.
By the time the temple lights flared up, the subterranean channels had all been effectively sealed. In the temple nothing moved. Only the blazing lights gave testimony that someone had been alerted inside. We waited until the Regent's heavily armed robot troops joined the rear lines. The flight-capable combat robots formed a second blockade ring. And with this we felt certain that we had the high priests in a trap.
Rhodan listened for sounds within the temple itself but nothing could be heard there. Mercant spoke suddenly: "It's too quiet over there for me."
We were standing beside the landed space-jet which contained the converted detector. The sharp beeps coming from its speaker indicated that my cell activator was still located inside the temple. When I looked at Rhodan I noted sharp furrows on his brow.
"This is a sticky situation," he muttered grumpily. "It would be no problem to make a massive attack but what might happen to your ticker device in there?"
Before I could say anything, there was a commotion to our left. John Marshall and mutant Wuriu Sengu were coming toward us. The stocky, broad-shouldered Japanese gave an impression of being exhausted. He could hardly stand on his feet. A soldier jumped forward and snapped open a field chair for him. Wuriu sat down heavily. Rhodan and I moved toward him. Our mood of victory had suddenly changed. I felt a sense of uneasiness creeping upon me.
"Sengu, what's the matter with you?" asked Rhodan sharply, shaking the mutant by the shoulders.
Wuriu looked up slowly, his eyes shining in the starlight like smoldering embers. "Sir, something is there that I can't figure out!" he stammered.
"What do you, mean—what is there? Speak up, man!"
"Sir, I cannot see through the walls. Either there's some kind of unknown defense screen around the place or... something else. Sir, my powers never failed me before! But here—they just have no effect!"
I sensed a painful pulling at the back of my head. For the first time in many hours my extra-brain came to life.
"Think in terms of the Baalols' mutational capabilities!" came the soundless voice from my logic sector.
I drew in my breath sharply. Rhodan was silent. He looked down tensely at the benumbed 'seer' whose paranormal gifts enabled him to see through solid matter as through
a transparent wall. Sengu had never been vanquished before. He had always been able to tell us what lay behind any obstacle.
The delicate, narrow-hipped figure of our 'frequency seer' Son Okura emerged from the starlit darkness. His special faculty lay in the ability to see radiations invisible to normal eyes, including the farthest extremes of the radiation spectrum in the deepest darkness.
He stopped next to me. I could see that his face was also weary and drawn. Rhodan was strangely slow in turning toward him, as though he were almost afraid to see his face.
"Son... you too?" asked Rhodan rather hoarsely.
"Yes sir! Something's going on there that's uncanny! I picked up a radiation that's like our shortest hyper-dimensional wavebands. And yet it's something else. It gave me a terrible headache!"
"Headache," Rhodan repeated dully. The look on his face made me more uneasy than before.
Then suddenly we received the awaited explanation.
Betty Toufry spoke up from behind the other mutants. "I can't make out anything either, sir. Not a single thought pulse, not even a fragment of a brainwave. But I can tell you for certain that this is not a defense screen. Hardly any machinery is operating over there. Tanaka Seiko isn't picking up any energy soundings."
"That coincides with our findings," said an officer of the tracking detail. "The temple reactor is running at minimum level. At the most, 500 kilowatts, sir. That's just enough for the lights, the air-conditioning and the elevators but it could never feed a forcefield like that. Miss Toufry's report is reliable, sir."
Rhodan asked furiously: "Betty, is there anything else you can tell us?"
The young woman came closer. In the starlight her face had an ashen hue. She spoke waveringly with an undertone of fear in her voice, "Sir, these people... they are the Antis! They are intelligences who are capable of completely neutralizing our special faculties! They are the anti-mutants, sir! I encountered one of them once on Velogra 7 but he wasn't aware then of his ability to counter-absorb our forces. Put those over there, sir—they're well aware of it. They are exulting in triumph over us!"