Power's Price

by Perry Rhodan

  Archetz—was it still the headquarters of the plotters?

  Perry Rhodan chose not to ridicule the gigantic positronicon's assertion; he was much readier to admit that he was not so well informed on this Springer planet Archetz to allow himself the privilege of rejecting the positronicon's statement out of hand.

  "Archetz?" he said thoughtfully, and at the same time it was a silent request for Atlan to express himself on the subject of what the positronicon had concluded.

  However, Bell spoke before the new Imperator of the Great Imperium could get a word out. "Perry!" Reginald Bell laid both hands on his friend's shoulders and his face was marked by an expression of imploring earnestness. He paused and the pause forced Rhodan and Atlan to listen to what came next. "Now you've heard it straight from the mouth of this giant tin-can:"

  "All actions undertaken since the attempted theft of the cell activator lack the distinguishing characteristics that indicate the involvement of Thomas Cardif."

  "Right now I'm not trying to gloss over anything, Perry! Your son has deserted! He has broken his oath! Even you as First Administrator of the Solar Imperium can't change that. One day Thomas will have to take the responsibility for it but as his father you have to find a way to reach him so that he takes the responsibility for it on his own!"

  "Perry, you and Thora both failed to do so once. Who blamed you for it? Only your consciences!"

  "But does that take care of everything, old man? Isn't it the easy way out? Should Thomas really bear the full weight of the punishment?"

  "Perry, I don't agree with that—I don't want to agree with that and I can't agree with that!"

  "Do something for your boy! Should your son, who is just as gifted as you are,simply go to the dogs...? "

  There, was an echo in the large, Spartan room within the giant dome.

  It was an echo with ghostly effect.

  It rang Reginald Bell's excited words back, only hollowly, making them all the more stirring: "...simply go to the dogs?"

  Atlan stepped between the two men, cutting them off from one another. In his eyes stood the uncomprehending astonishment of a man shaken by emotion. "Mr. Bell," he said, his voice sounding pleading. He nodded understandingly to the excited, heavyset man, and took hold of Perry Rhodan's arm. "Perry, you've dealt successfully with us Arkonides and the Springers, Aras, Druufs, Topides and all the rest, and you'll deal successfully with your son tool After all, as the old Arkonide proverb has it, when is the egg smarter than the hen?"

  "What do you want?" Rhodan's question was sharp. Suddenly the steely look was again in his grey eyes but Atlan did not let him pose a second question.

  "Perry, you're right in the middle of things with your dispute with your son! Bell and I are watching from the edges! You must come over to us and stand in our position and then you'll find a way to build a bridge that will lead you to Thomas. You're the older man, the man with experience, but I've been watching you over the years and I admire your ability to lead men. Let your ability come into play, Barbarian... Search and find a way. But the way must leave a chance open for your son!"

  An enormous stellar empire threatened to collapse after more than 15,000 years of existence but those three men in whose hands the fate of the Imperium lay were conversing in an excited manner about a lieutenant who had deserted from the Solar Fleet!

  Atlan and Bell knew how heavy a load Rhodan carried because his only son was at once his bitterest and most dangerous enemy. They were the only ones either in M-13 or in the Solar System who saw the full extent of the tragedy.

  Perry Rhodan was not a superman: he needed inner peace and calmness to return to his old self. He now had neither. But he still had his admirable self-control.

  He breathed heavily and then said: "Yes, I want to do it!"

  2/ SURPRISING DISCLOSURE

  The inner gardens of the conical palaces on the Crystal World were enchantingly lovely.

  Perry Rhodan looked down on this world from a luxurious suite of rooms whose sole purpose was to keep the cares of day-in and day-out routine far away.

  Behind him, Atlan—Gonozal VIII, Imperator of the Great Imperium—cleared his throat. Perry turned to him and spoke. A thin smile played on his lips. "The Crystal World is poison, Atlan. It produces sickness and—"

  "I agree with your opinion, Barbarian," Atlan interrupted, "and that's why I'm seeing to it that as few New Arkonides as possible become familiar with this planet. I think that here on Arkon I'll be overwhelmed by homesickness for the Earth."

  "What? You? An arch-Arkonide? You speak of homesickness? You, who grew up between the stars?"

  Atlan nodded. "Each world has its own poison or causes sickness. Terra causes homesicknessfor Terra. And if there's anything that I'll never regret, my friend, it's living among you for 10,000 years. That's why I don't find it particularly difficult to understand Thomas Cardif. That's also why I think I know why he conceived the idea of having my cell activator stolen. And if I were a Terran, then according to your mentality I would have to hate him. Fortunately I've remained an Arkonide and in spite of his scheme to put me out of action with one blow through the theft of the cell activator, I admire him. Only the Galactic Traders don't seem to find anything admirable about him anymore. Please, friend, this is our latest news. That's why I had you called."

  Rhodan sat down across from him. The adapto-chair, an example of a way of living devoted entirely to pleasure, conformed automatically to the contours of Rhodan's body.

  Rhodan was not in the mood today to tolerate such a chair. Ever since dawn, one conference had been followed by another. He had spoken with Terrania for over two hours and in three instances had to reach crucial decisions even though far from Earth on Arkon 1.

  Now something that seldom happened took place.

  Rhodan sprang up with a curse. "This chair! You ought to take it out and burn it!"

  Rhodan overlooked Atlan's amused smile.

  He read.

  He sat down again.

  He remained seated, letting the latest report sink in before he looked sharply at the Imperator.

  Atlan bent forward, a single sheet of paper in his hand. "This is the very latest. It arrived when you came in, Perry."

  "Should I read it, too?"

  Atlan nodded and Rhodan saved himself any further words.

  The Arkonide Secret Service seemed to be in full operation. All reports had come from that source. Each report concerned the Springer world Archetz in the Resuma System.

  The very last report contained no mention of Thomas Cardif. The Imperator's information gatherers had not been able to find out anything about him. However, there was the day-old report of the Springer Sulok, who worked for Solar Defense. According to a conversation overheard in a tavern, Rhodan's son was on Archetz. The First Administrator thought of that as he put the report down.

  "Atlan, I'm amazed that our information about the Springer world isn't up to date."

  The Imperator shook his head in contradiction. "The information you and I had was good, it's just that we didn't take into account the Galactic Traders' activity. In the past decade they must have hollowed out a vast system of caverns in the planet Archetz, and installed the major portion of their industry and more than four-fifths of their population there. The heavy damage caused by the Druufs on the surface, which includes the annihilation of the city Titon and its 12,000,000 people as well as three other large cities, is being used by the crafty Springers as camouflage. From the outside, a destroyed world; but beneath the surface, it has fully intact heavy industry with the most modern assembly lines for mass production of cylindrical spacers. The economic collapse within the realm of the Galactic Traders and the Aras has not affected this center of power! As Bell would say, Perry—dammit all, anyway! If this state of affairs is Cardif's doing... then he merits all our respect!"

  Rhodan's grey eyes flashed. "What is the meaning of all this constant praise for him, Arkonide?"

  "I want nothing more than
to help you, Perry. You shouldn't see only Cardif's bad sides. By the gods, Barbarian, I'm not enthusiastic that Cardif stands on the other side and has tried to destroy you through my downfall! However, I can't escape the fact that if you had been planning these actions yourself you could not have done any better. Perry, my friend, do you disagree with me that Cardif is a tactical genius? Do you know any other Terran who is his equal in that ability? I don't. You and I have need of people with such talent!"

  Rhodan flared up. "Atlan, what are you trying to force me to do?"

  Imperator Gonozal VIII laughed bitterly. "If I could force you, I would do it. But no one can force you!

  At this moment you stand alone once more! That is the price we both have to pay for standing on the summit! This summit is so small that no more than one person can ever find room on it—so small that it doesn't even allow one to stand comfortably. Will we be able to continue balancing ourselves there forever?"

  "Sometimes it's hard to believe that you're an Arkonide."

  "Thank you, Perry!" Joy lit up in Atlan's eyes. "You put it very well and I'm proud to be so. Often I find myself thinking I'd like to see you in my place. I envy you, the First Administrator of an improbable planetary system."

  "So?" Rhodan said nothing more. His glance now took in Atlan's face. "In one respect I don't understand you, Atlan. Why aren't you doing everything possible to force me to put Thomas Cardif out of action? Or why don't you deal with him yourself? After all, he's threatening the existence ofyour Imperium!"

  Imperator Gonozal VIII slowly stood up. He went around the long narrow table and stopped in front of Rhodan. He laid his hand on his friend's arm. "Friend, do we suddenly no longer understand one another? I can get involved only at the price of our friendship! As Imperator of the Great Imperium I would have the duty to do so but is my stellar empire served if you and I must one day face one another as enemies? And we must become enemies if I intervene now and confront Thomas Cardif with the strict laws of Arkon according to which he deserves the death penalty. You would have to hold that act against me... or you were never a father and Thomas was never your soul But then you could never be my friend any longer, Perry..."

  Atlan's yellowish Arkonide eyes sparkled. Great, excitement had seized him.

  Perry Rhodan had laid his head back and looked at his friend. Then he got up and stood before the Arkonide. "I'll make the arrangements now since my men and I take off for Earth in an hour. If you should receive new reports concerning Archetz or Cardif, please relay them to me."

  "Then we'll be seeing each other again in a few days, Perry?" Atlan had understood him precisely. The surprising disclosure of plans to return to Earth within the hour was nothing other than the first step in a move to remove Thomas Cardif from the conflict between worlds.

  "Yes, Atlan. I'll be back in M-13 in a few days..."

  3/ PERENNIAL PREVARICATORS

  An alert was broadcast for Terrania's scientists!

  Perry Rhodan had returned a few hours before from the Arkonide Imperium and this was not the first time that his return had triggered frantic activity.

  More than 5,000 collaborators, each a top-grade specialist in his area, were informed by their department heads of their new assignment.

  When the ethnologists set to their work, they were very quickly astonished. Then dismayed.

  Dr. Orge Olundson was the first to express it. "If we dare go to the Chief with this, there'll be hell to pay!"

  No one disputed that. They looked at each other in puzzlement. The material that they had was terribly scanty. They had requested permission to make use of the positronicon aboard the Drusus, Rhodan's flagship, but when the gigantic positronicon of the super battleship emptied its memory banks for them, they found they knew no more than they did before.

  Their assignment was as follows:

  248 light-years from Arkon is the planetary system of Forit, a small reddish star which includes four planets. The second planet is called Solten and is inhabited.

  Detailed ethnic, ethnographic and ethnological information about the Soltenites is requested.

  But judged by Arkonide standards, the Soltenites must have been such an unimportant people that the Great Imperium and its ethnological catalog believed everything essential was covered in just a few sentences:

  Soltenites: Former Arkonides, degenerate, average height of 1.7 meters, humpback-like spinal curvature, bulging forehead.

  Matriarchy, demonism.

  Liars.

  Dr. Orge Olundson, head of the Ethnic Studies Department and someone who had become an expert on Arkonide Ethnology in the course of two decades, played with his penzel for a moment, then, with a gesture of helplessness, drew one circle after the other through the third sentence of the sparse information, which consisted solely of the word Liar.

  "One of our Arkonide colleagues must have allowed himself a joke once," he told himself. "Such a thing can't be possible. Surely not all Soltenites are liars!" He looked up, tossed the penzel away and looked around at the men. "Well, gentlemen, what are we going to do now? Does anyone have any ideas how we can get information about the Soltenites?"

  In the medical Bioplastic Department, they were puzzled, too. There existed only a few unsatisfactory shreds of information about the Soltenites' appearance. No information could be found in any of the archives.

  "If I go to the Chief and tell him the assignment can't be carried out," Dr. Alfo Alverez prophesied, "he'll fire us all! And you, gentlemen, what do you have to say to that?"

  No less displeased, Jean de Canin, economic expert for intragalactic trade, grumbled: "Good heavens, where am I going to get any information about the licensing treaty between the Soltenites and the Springer boss Cokaze? Never heard of it! Have you, Townless?"

  No, he had not heard a word about it, either; he shook his head mutely and chewed further on his penzel. The morale in that department sank well below zero.

  "The Chief won't be happy if I report to him empty-handed, Townless," de Canin ventured.

  "Well, I can't pull the data out of the empty air, either, de Canin," Townless replied calmly. "I'll call the Ethnic Studies people. Maybe they'll know more. A people's business characteristics are significant. Let's see if our colleagues know any more..."

  Intercom Central came on the circuit. Townless requested a connection with Dr. Olundson.

  The screen stabilized in front of Townless Olundson's discontented face appeared. He saw Townless on his screen. Neither knew one another personally.

  Townless introduced himself. "Perhaps you can help us, Doctor. We urgently need information about the Soltenites."

  "About the liars?" demanded Olundson.

  "About whom...?" It was Jean de Canin who had blurted out the question and with one step stood next to Townless. "Who are liars, Doctor?"

  Unruffled, Dr. Orge Olundson replied. "The Soltenites are liars! Or at least that's what the Arkonide ethnological, catalog says about them. But we don't know anything, either. We're drifting right now..."

  "And about to run into something hard and stable, no doubt," de Canin replied. "But wait! I've got it! I'll call Solar Defense. They ought to have data on file. Doctor, I'll let you in on what they tell me immediately. That's a promise!"

  They were grasping at straws now but Dr. Olundson nodded in relief.

  The connection with the Archives of the Solar Defense was quickly made.

  A vision of feminine loveliness appeared on the vidscreen. Jean de Canin's French heritage came suddenly to life. He made no secret of his admiration for such beauty but he did not let it become offensive, it merely flattered the radiant young woman in the archives of Solar Defense. Nevertheless, de Canin's voice was businesslike as he requested information about the Soltenites in Forit's four-planet system. "Please give us all the information you have on it. We have an assignment from the Chief with utmost urgency and we can't fulfil it because we don't have the material. But surely you'll help us,non? "

  She
promised to do so, then her image disappeared, although the connection remained. Townless looked at de Canin and commented: "I ought to get a transfer to Archives! Glord, I had no idea that there were such beauties in Terrania!"

  "So?" answered de Canin and was then silent.

  They waited. The time ticked by slowly. Then the image of the young woman appeared once more. Her enchanting smile had vanished. Her voice had lost its bell-like clarity. "I'm sorry," she began, "but we don't have any information about the Forit System except for the Arkonide listings, which I'm sure you have yourselves."

  "Yes," Jean de Canin replied, "we have that much. Only there isn't enough to go on. Aren't there any of our people on Solten?"

  "On that unimportant world? Either you overestimate the capabilities of the Solar Defense or you underestimate the size of the Arkonide Imperium," she said with a slight reproving tone.

  Jean de Canin grinned. "Suppose you and I talk about it in greater detail—say, tonight over dinner...?"

  He got no further. Her charming smile had returned as she interrupted: "What a lovely suggestion! Do you mind if my husband and 8-month-old baby come along, too?"

  Her smile was the last thing to be seen as the vidscreen image faded.

  • • •

  At 14:20 hours, Standard Time, Dr. Orge Olundson had mustered his courage and requested a connection with Reginald Bell.

  "Yes, of course it's urgent!" he insisted. "It is very important. It concerns work of utmost urgency and..."

  "The Solten business?" he was interrupted.

  Olundson was aware of the security regulations. "Please, connect me at once with Mr. Bell!"

  Shortly thereafter, Bell's face appeared on the vidscreen. Rhodan's friend possessed an excellent memory for faces and names. Sometime once before he had met Dr. Olundson. Now he recognized him at once and addressed him by name. He noticed Olundson's sigh of relief.

  "Well, Doc, what's working?" he inquired.

  While the doctor explained, Bell interjected an occasional "Hmmm" or "I see" but did not interrupt. He spoke only when the ethnologist had finished his report and had also added which departments in Terrania were at that moment pulling their hair out over the problem.