by Perry Rhodan
Ron shook his head. "Not yet, Larry. If we shoot them down here, in a few minutes we'll have an armada on our heads."
Ron kept on westward toward the mountains. He knew that the greatest peril still lay ahead because if the Springer spaceships had not taken off already they were lying hidden in the canyons of the Midland Mountains. And he assumed that this fact had also contributed to the apparent carelessness of the Springer glider.
The mountain slopes rose higher. The twilight hour of reddish-brown light began as the disc of the blue sun went under the horizon and the eastern sky tamed a dull rose hue. The enemy craft had not yet changed its tactics. It flew around the Terran glider tirelessly and whenever its occupants could be seen it was obvious that they were grinning broadly.
Ron had been flying close to one of the towering cliffs and when he was within 100 meters of the mountain wall he changed his course, taking a right angle toward the South—but simultaneously he kept a close eye on the enemy ship. It did not escape him that the Springers seemed to become nervous. They narrowed their circling course but stayed with them.
They're getting edgy, Ron thought to himself with a grin of amusement. Apparently he wasn't going in the direction they preferred. Therefore he could assume that their main outfit was camped somewhere to the North.
Now the Springers began to show their hostility. Evidently they felt little compunction about destroying the Terran glider and its occupants. They fired a shot from a thermo-cannon, which laid a hissing white beam across the glider's bow, although still at a fairly safe distance. Ron cut off the jets and the antigravs kept them drifting steadily above the trees on the steeply rising slope of the mountain.
"Now get ready, Larry!" said Ron evenly.
The Springers had interpreted the manoeuvre as he wanted them to and they assumed that the Terrans were now ready to surrender. They came closer, not too fast, in fact with a hint of hesitation; yet Ron could see the threatening muzzles of their ship's guns.
He heard Larry stirring behind him and he admonished him hastily: "Hold it! Hold it! Let them keep coming! You'll hit them at five meters more surely than at 20."
Larry grumbled audibly but allowed the enemy to come nearer. One of the Springers had opened the other ship's manlock part way. The upper portion of his body was visible as he leaned out and waved an arm at them energetically. Ron understood: since there was no radio communication he wanted to tell them to go in another direction. But he held the glider where it was, making it appear that he did not comprehend.
The Springer craft kept on coming, intending to close the gap entirely. But as the other machine's sharp bow was just about to touch their hull, Larry Randall acted. A blinding, sunbright beam shot forth from the head of the sledgehammer. The still air above the forest was shaken by a hard, sharp explosion. In the core of the painfully brilliant fireball something was being blown to shreds. Glowing and burning fragments spewed out in all directions.
When Larry shut off his strange weapon and readjusted his eyes to the normal light, all there was left to see was a descending contrail of smoke—and finally there was a ragged black hole in the glassy shimmer of trees below.
Ron shook off the morbidity of his thoughts and turned on the propulsion again. An hour later the glider had put the mountains behind it and was on a safe course westward toward the city of Modessa.
• • •
Nike Quinto spoke more sternly than usual when he indicated the unpretentious and somewhat frightened figure of Lofty Patterson, who sat in his office with Ron and Larry. "Of course you must understand that your friend here will have to undergo a bit of memory treatment as soon as this affair has been settled. You can't just bring a complete stranger into the Division and expect us to let him run loose without a bit of shearing, can you?"
Ron Landry smiled. He had anticipated this and was prepared with a powerful counter-argument. "Sir—at the risk of raising your blood pressure—I would suggest that the Division ought to assign this man to a permanent post on Passa as its representative. There is no one who knows that planet as well as he does."
Nike Quinto raised up out of his chair. His voice became shrill. "You're right about the blood pressure, I'll have to grant you that! Since when are you the one to pick out members for the Division? Do you think maybe I'm too old or too stupid? No, my lad, in that you are mistaken!" His chubby body sank back again into the chair. In a calmer tone he then added: "Alright, so we'll give the matter some thought—but first there are more important things to decide."
Ron sighed with relief. He noted that Larry glanced at him with an amused smirk on his face. It was as good as in the bag. Lofty Patterson would become a permanent representative of Intercosmic Social Welfare and Development, Division 3, on Passa. In exchange for keeping his eyes open on his own home ground he would receive a respectable income for the rest of his life. In the opinion of Ron and Larry, the old-timer had more than earned it.
"Now about your report," said Quinto in a businesslike tone. "It's been analyzed from all angles. The conclusions may surprise you. First: your guess that the Springers are ready for a local war over Passa has been confirmed, Maj. Landry. All signs point to it. So the Springers must have a new kind of weapon which they hope will help them win. Just what that weapon may be we're not able to conjecture as yet.
"Second: the fact that the Evergreens started out by leaving the murdered settlers lying where they fell and then in the second stage of their uprising carried them away as an offering to their god seems to indicate to the experts that the Springers weren't quite clear as to their plan of action in the beginning. For some reason or another, after a few days they suddenly found it essential to obtain the corpses along with the living.
"Third: the sledgehammer device has been examined. We know now what happens with buttons four and six. Number four has to do with a neural shock impulse. It's released in two actions simultaneously: by pressing the button while swinging the hammer at the same time—and only in that combination..." Nike Quinto paused briefly while watching his listeners carefully. "Does that tell you anything?"
Ron had an idea. "That would indicate that the god-creature didn't kill his victims at all. He could swing the hammer and make the Evergreens think the sacrificial victims were killed by it—when actually they weren't..."
Quinto nodded approvingly. "Exactly, So we don't have to fear that very many of the vanished Terrans actually were murdered. For reasons unknown the Springers prefer to take them alive. And now, point four: button six activates a highly unusual instrument. Basically what it is, is a transmitter with an amazingly weak output. So it can't be picked up at any great distance unless it works on a directional beam principle. And they saw to that they used a planned position mask-like a location photo stencil—and the beam works automatically. As long as the transmitter is within the area covered by the photo mask, it beams into a specific receiver zone. According to the experts that zone represents the hidden base of the Springers."
He looked at his listeners again and was satisfied that his explanation had made the proper impact. Ron had leaned forward tensely in his chair while Larry and Lofty sat there with dumbfounded expressions on their faces.
Quinto continued leisurely. "Of course that means the end for that particular base. At a given time we'll send a commando force to Passa, equipped with this transmitter, and they'll roust the enemy out of there. But now there's something more important. We come to this frog-bear creature you have described. Such an animal isn't known to this galaxy. In fact: our experts are of the opinion that such a creature could not have evolved naturally. Too many contradictory factors. So they're convinced that although the thing is a living animal of some sort, it must be a product of the test tube." This time he wasn't inclined to let anybody jump to conclusions and he continued hastily.
"That gives us an obvious clue, gentlemen. There is only one race in the galaxy that can produce a synthetic creature like that on such short notice and with such precisio
n: the Aras, a branch of the Arkonides who have unscrupulously dedicated their lives to scientific research. This isn't the first time that they've made a side deal like this with the Springers, where the Springers profit from the business end and the Aras get paid for their science. Therefore we can assume that Passa is not only worth striving for to the Springers—the Aras are out to get it as well. The cooperation of the two races would seem to explain the initial confusion in the plan of action but it makes our own approach to the problem more difficult. The Aras are formidable opponents for the very reason that they stay out of armed conflicts when they can. In stead, they prefer to have the products of their bio-medicines do their work for them."
Nike Quinto allowed time for his words to take effect. He noticed that Ron Landry was staring at the floor, lost in thought. Larry Randall was sitting far back in his chair with his eyes half closed. Lofty Patterson was sitting up straight and looking at Quinto but Nike had the feeling that he wasn't actually seeing him.
"There's another question," Quinto finally began again, "which hasn't been answered so far. How were the Springers able to force their god on the Evergreens so quickly and thoroughly? I mean, it might be easy to go to a primitive people and set up any well-functioning robot in front of their noses and sell them the idea that it's a god or something like that. But I'm not so sure that such primitives would go all out on that basis alone—I mean they wouldn't be as devoted and have such unshakable faith as the Evergreens have demonstrated for the frog-bear god. I'm thinking there's still some kind of secret hidden behind all this and I'd be inclined to..."
Lofty broke in for the first time "I can probably explain that, sir. It so happens that in my earlier days I had as many dealings with the Evergreens as anybody around. They don't have any actual literature of their own. They have no written language. But there's a kind of richness of legend that they pass on by word of mouth, you might say. One of those legends tells of a powerful god who would come down from Heaven one day and become the protector and champion of the Evergreens. This god is described as a mighty being with four arms and is supposed to be capable of performing a whole string of unheard of miracles."
Nike Quinto nodded as though he had expected such an explanation, "All of which fits the frog-bear very well," he answered. "He certainly didn't disappoint them in the miracle department but... since the Evergreens are 18 to 20 feet tall would they be ready to think of a creature as mighty when it's only 10 feet high?"
No one could provide an answer to this question. Ron had thought about this, himself, and it had occurred to him that here was a flaw in the enemy's planning.
"We shall be able to turn that fact to our advantage," Quinto declared suddenly. He stood up as though to indicate that he considered the conference to be at an end. "The final preparations will be given top priority. Gentlemen, you are on standby notice. Most likely by day after tomorrow you will be taking off again—equipped with everything you will need in order to put an end to this mischief on Passa."
He said no more than this. Ron had a suspicion that he was keeping a not inconsiderable secret all to himself and that he was amusing himself at their expense—gloating over how they might be racking their brains in the meantime while trying to figure it out.
10/ TRI-LIGHT OF THE GODS
Despair is upon our hearts, thou Mighty Ones! We thy miserable servants have not expected two gods to come among us. Dispel our doubt and despair, O Glorious Ones! It lies alone within thy powers to decide and we shall serve the mightier of thee always!
• • •
A monster stamped through the red gloom of the glass forest.
It was 25 feet tall and covered with shaggy hair. With its six great arms it ripped the undergrowth out of its way. With a rumbling bellow the monster knocked down any glass trees that offered him any resistance and his thunderous cries rang out for miles through the forested wilderness.
A clamor of Evergreen drumming started up everywhere to appease the bestial entity. And a miracle happened: the giant creature understood the drum talk and spared the communities of those who paid him homage. But as for those others who remained true to the god whose temple they were even now building beyond the Midland Mountains, their villages were ruthlessly flattened and with a strength that could only be supernatural.
Tidings of the new god spread through the land. Did not the smaller god of the mountains reveal his inferiority when he failed to react to the misery of his subjects? How could they know who the true deity was, even though the new Colossus announced in a thundering voice that he was the genuine Ayaa-Oooy—when he proclaimed that the one they were building their temple for was only a minor entity and although the impostor was far too small for the deception he was nevertheless trying to take advantage of his similarity of appearance?
Whom should they believe? Of course the smaller god raised his voice also behind the mountains when he learned about the invader. But his voice was far less powerful by comparison. His words only carried a short distance through the fastness of the forest. Also, what he said was incomprehensible.
Thus enmeshed in an agonizing conflict of conscience the unfortunate children of the double star finally left it up to the gods themselves to settle the issue of who was the true divinity. However this course did not seem to be agreeable to the lesser god behind the mountains. He attempted to appeal to those who were closest to him and to goad them into marching against the new monster and destroying him. In fact he even managed to assemble a group of humans from somewhere. These latter had climbed over the mountains and set out to lay a trap for the greater god. But the new deity had sprayed out a lightning of death from his eyes and hands and destroyed them. It happened faster than it would take a strong serpent to make even two jumps with his tail. After that no more people appeared to fight for the lesser god.
The giant god had come from the Northwest and in a day and a half he reached the foot of the mountains. Fearful Evergreens watched from a distance while he traversed the steep slopes without diminishing his pace. They marveled at his great size and strength and were almost convinced that he was the true god instead of the lesser deity over there on the other side of the mountain.
Little did he know that Capt. Larry Randall sat in the bowels of the monster at this moment, where he was loading a new tape into the tape player. He turned on the machine and a few seconds later the loudspeakers above him in the great frog mouth began to blare out a new message. It was under tremendous amplification. The monster-beast appeared to be crying out across the land to the Evergreens and he spoke in their own language.
Larry shook his head somewhat sullenly. "It may be working like a charm," he muttered, "but this whole game is still a bunch of childish nonsense."
• • •
Ron Landry was stationed just below the head of the robot-beast. From that higher vantage point he was able to control the monster's movements as well as the output of the powerful fusion engine, which was beneath him in the 'lung' compartment. He was enclosed in a soundproofed cabin because otherwise the great god's thunderous voice would have been too much for him to endure.
And finally, way below in one of the mighty legs of the creature, Lofty Patterson crouched beside a special listening device. There he was able to pick up the drum talk of the Evergreens and whenever he heard something of importance he would report it to Ron Landry over the intercom system.
By 15:00 'ship' time on the 21st of October 2102, the huge god-figure had put the Midland Mountains behind him without any further molestation. And thereby he had already accomplished the major part of his task. For he had not only come to Passa to convert the Evergreens but also to divert the attention of the Springers and Aras to himself as he crashed thunderously through the glass forest. This was to permit Maj. Bushnell and his commando unit to proceed all the more inconspicuously toward the place where the secret base of the enemy was located—according to signals from the automatic beam transmitter that Ron had provided them with.
The critical time arrived without anything happening, however. A short, coded radio message was received from Maj. Bushnell, which reported that he had been able to adhere to the plan. The Springers still did not know that they had been hemmed in. This they would find out if they attempted to come to the aid of their besieged godling below at the temple. Bushnell also reported, as expected, that he had discovered two medium-sized Springer spaceships at the base.
But the titanic god-figure continued stamping onward toward the Caves of East Midland, as they had been dubbed in the meantime, with its eyes spewing forth lightning and its mighty voice still thundering out its messages to all the land. It only became silent when Ron in his neck compartment received an agonized request from Lofty down in the leg section.
"The drums are going again! For Glord's sake shut off that loudmouth up there so's I can understand what they're saying!"
• • •
Shortly before the blue sun went down the giant god reached the place where the Evergreens had started to erect a temple to their deity, Ayaa-Oooy. They had cleared a part of the forest and had put up a stockade wall using the tall glass trunks of the trees. They had gotten no farther than this before news of the mightier god had shaken the land.
From his point of vantage in the neck of the Behemoth, Ron Landry could see the area clearly. The walled clearing lay peacefully below him in the light of the lowering sun. There was not a sign of the Aras' synthetic creature and evidently the Evergreens had long since slunk away into hiding.