by Perry Rhodan
The little bears slept and wakened in their arms. They kissed their new masters tenderly and playfully behind the ears, on the napes of their necks, on their hands. They chatted like parrots and had wonderful little button eyes like felt-pelted teddy bears. These affectionate little beasts could rotate their eyes in such a droll manner as to always provoke a frantically insane hilarity from their owners.
"Stop it, Sengu! Stop it!" yelled Rhodan, covering his ears in order not to hear any more of the 'seer's' report.
Wuriu Sengu was grateful for his command. He wiped sweat from his brow and took a deep breath. For the first time he had put his abilities to the test, he cursed his special talent—for he had seen hell. The Titan was hell. It was populated by madmen. Not a sane one among them, all laughing themselves to death in a mad danse macabre, completely oblivious to this devil's Mardi Gras that was whirling them to the graves.
He had also seen Bell but he refrained from picturing to Rhodan how horrible Bell looked.
"Sengu, go to sleep!" Rhodan's order sounded sharp and was like an unwarranted slap in the face.
"Sir," stammered Sengu, mortified, "I assure you I did not exaggerate. As a matter of fact—"
"Sengu," Perry interrupted, "I'm sorry—I didn't mean it that way. I know you must have seen much more than you let us know about and I'm grateful for that. It's just that you probably need a rest now."
In this hour of his greatest despair, he still revealed a little of the old Perry Rhodan—his unique quality of leadership. He knew how to thank a man at the least expected moment and he had strengthened a friendship just now. Khrest watched him closely. The spark of hope was still alive. He rejected the idea that Perry had given up. This man from Terra was stronger than he had estimated himself to be.
"Sir!" Tifflor called from his tracking console.
Perry slowly lifted his head as one waking from a dream. "Yes, Tiff?"
"Sir, there's a blip... we're tracking a ship out there."
"That's the one I'm waiting for, Tiff."
Perry's tone and manner were a disappointment, which the young lieutenant's expression revealed. He had thought this announcement would give a lift to the Chief. Instead, Rhodan moved to the tracker with a slow, almost casual motion. Tifflor leaned to one side so that Perry could inspect the screen and the sweeping arm of light crossing the constant blip,
"Stay where you are, Tiff," Rhodan said. "A minute doesn't matter. It'll take a while for the ship to get here. Okay—thanks!"
Returning to the pilot's seat, a new thought occurred to him. He placed a hand on the mouse-beaver's furry back. "Pucky, did you touch those little Hono bears or not?"
"You might say they touched me," answered Pucky, his eyes still sparkling resentment. "They even played with my tail!"
"Lieutenant, why haven't you gotten ill?"
Pucky was a lieutenant in Rhodan's Mutant Corps but it was the first time he had heard his title used. He puffed up proudly, gave a little salute and reported in a military tone: "Sir, I have not been infected because I am an animal, sir! And because I sensed immediately how awful those little beasts smell!"
For the first time the trace of a smile touched Rhodan's weary countenance. He studied Pucky thoughtfully. "How long were you in contact with them?"
Khrest, Tiff and Sengu followed this conversation with rising attentiveness. Perry's voice was taking on more and more of its old, familiar tone.
"Ten minutes, Perry. Maybe a quarter of an hour, until I couldn't take that foul odor any longer." Here again was the mouse-beaver's reference to the malodorous effluvium the bears were emitting.
"How did they smell, Pucky?"
"The word is stink, Chief!" Pucky squeaked angrily. Perry laughed easily now. "No gentlemen uses that expression, Pucky!"
"Well, I'm no gentleman, Boss, I'm an animal! But you just let me take a jump into the Titan and I'll stop saying 'stink'!"
This was pure blackmail but coming from this small furry creature it was farcical. Perry gave in. "Alright, I'll let you do that, but wait till I tell you when. Now try to describe that odor exactly, Pucky..." The mouse-beaver proved to be an excellent analyst. His detailed description gave a precise idea of the odor.
"It's a gas!" was Khrest's opinion.
Rhodan still had some doubts. It could also be some aromatic matter or even dust-like emissions." And
then, without transition, he called over to Tifflor: "Don't let up on that tracking, Tiff! I want to know when that ship gets behind the planet..."
Khrest's face brightened. This was the old Perry Rhodan, who never overlooked any detail. His order that he should be notified when the planet would be between them and the alien ship was an obvious sign that Perry Rhodan had not yet thrown in the kowel (an Arkonide playing card canceling a hand.)!
"Khrest, do you know of any aromatic or dust-like particles that are toxic or infectious?"
"Quite a few. Most of them destroy the ganglion cells and what this means in terms of destruction to the central nervous system needs no explanation. But I'm afraid that Arkonide medicine had to surrender before the final ramparts of the human brain!"
Perry was grim again as he thought of Bell's destiny and the fate of the other 700 men and Thora.
"Khrest, we should try a fast flight to Arkon and—"
The Arkonide had to cut him short. "Perry, you're applying Terrestrial standards to Arkon."
"How's that?"
"Within the entire Globular Cluster M-13 there are neither unknown worlds nor unknown poisons which destroy the central nervous system. If you should contact a physician and describe the symptoms of the crew's illness, you would decree your own death penalty, which would be carried out immediately! You would be delivering the damning evidence that you had returned from a banned planet!"
"Don't you know any physician you could trust personally, Khrest?" Rhodan tried to arouse the
Arkonide from his phlegmatic temperament.
Khrest returned him a slow, sad smile of resignation. "Perry, I know only cowards and fools. You must do the job!"
"I'm no physician," Perry retorted, heatedly. "Maybe I know the difference between apolar and unipolar ganglions but that's about all."
"Sir," interrupted Tifflor, "the planet has now completely eclipsed the approaching spaceship."
Perry acknowledged this calmly, then said to Khrest, "Well discuss this further." He turned his attention to the pilot's controls and fired up the drive units.
The Gazelle hovered closely near the ground, moving directly toward the 12,000-foot escarpment which it then scaled in a swift, perpendicular sweep. Julian Tifflor, who considered himself a fair scoutship ace, involuntarily held his breath a few times when Rhodan manoeuvred around unexpected brooding crags with the skill of a rope dancer. There was no need of these close-clipped manoeuvres because the Gazelle's powerful repulsion buffer forcefields could take care of such situations. But for the master of the New Power, these aids didn't exist. He made the highest demands on himself and hated to use these automatic gadget as a crutch. The Gazelle soared above the mountain pass, sped between two dangerously close peaks and turned in an incredibly sharp curve over an unknown valley.
"Tiff, I'm looking for a gorge where the Gazelle would fit in snugly—or better yet, some overhanging rock or even a cave!"
"Sir, I have one! Course NNE, 3° past green. Altitude, 1850 feet! Do you see it?"
"Already going in, Tiff. Thanks!"
How good that sounded! Perry's strong tone of voice ran through the ship. The Chief was at the helm!
He virtually played with the scoutship. Khrest was so elated that he turned to Tiff and they both laughed in their relief. There was a flicker in the air and Pucky appeared from a short leap. He didn't want to miss the fun of this flight and he grinned with his single rodent's incisor tooth.
Sengu alone did not share their mood. His vision still reeled with the sight of the inferno, of the hellish merrymaking inside the Titan, and he couldn't
forget the spectacle of Reginald Bell in his cadaverous condition.
Then the lights came on in the ship. Rhodan manoeuvred the Gazelle into a tremendous cave. The vessel was cloaked in complete darkness. It landed smoothly, without a bump or jar.
"Khrest! Pucky! Put on your spacesuits! Tiff, you stay here on guard in the pilot's position. But pull out immediately at the slightest radio signal from me. Meeting place is the mountain pass we just came through. Sengu—stand by for a special assignment. All clear?"
7/ ROBOT SHIPS FROM HELL
Each Arkonide spacesuit was a marvel in itself but it had become a routine to the two men to wear them. Pucky, however, squeaked angrily because he didn't have his own suit at hand. He had to slip into a monstrous one, in which he could have taken a bath.
"Don't take it too hard, Pucky," Rhodan told him, placatingly. "If things work out today, I'll let you 'play' to your heart's desire. How would you like that, my friend?" To hear the word 'friend' from Perry himself was the greatest reward for Pucky and the prospect of being able to 'play' gave him indescribable satisfaction. Rhodan had promised it!
"Is that for sure, Boss?" Pucky asked, trying to confirm the promise. "That I'll get a chance to 'play'?"
Perry laughed grimly. "It seems to me that it may be a sheer necessity for you to play!"
"Okay, Boss, I can use it. I need a real workout! I only hope we don't lay a rotten egg!"
"Pucky!" Rhodan reprimanded him while he fastened his spacesuit. "You know, your speaking habits are getting worse every day!"
"Yes, Boss, that comes from going around in bad company with Bell. I just hope we can get the poor guy out of all that lousy horse—"
"Pucky! Now watch it! One doesn't use that word. You should be ashamed to say it in Khrest's company!"
"Do I know it?" asked Khrest, grateful that Pucky's earthy expressions served to relax Perry.
"Sure you do!" insisted the furry little rascal. "You were there when I pulled Bell out of his chair and put him through a gimlet fling. That's when you heard him yell at me to cut out the horse—"
Perry exploded. "Pucky, I'm warning you—!"
But they couldn't stop the little fellow. In a pouting chirp, he said, "Ask Khrest what Bell said. He knows it!"
The Arkonide volunteered: "I recall Bell shouting to cut out the horse feathers. Is that considered bad language on Earth, Perry?"
Rhodan struggled to keep a straight face as he watched the innocent sad look in Pucky's eyes. "Is that what he really said?"
"You don't believe me?" asked Khrest with a poker face.
"No!"
"Neither do I." The Arkonide grinned at him while Pucky manoeuvred himself in his suit to the airlock. Then all three exited through the lock. They did not touch the floor of the cave but floated out into the valley, borne by the flying spacesuits. The wonder suits could also generate an energy-deflection shield and make the wearer invisible. The only disadvantage to this was that it prevented them from seeing one another. Micro-nuclear generators produced the energy to feed the deflection fields and activate the gravo-neutralisers that made them float.
Shortly before they reached their target, Perry ordered: "Activate deflector shields!"
Now cloaked in invisibility, they touched the rocky ground. They moved close to each other, touching hands in order to keep in contact. From their vantage point they saw that the alien ship had landed.
"It has a cylindrical shape!" Rhodan said this through his teeth as he stared dourly at the ship in the distance. It had a length of about 600 feet and a 150-foot diameter. It has touched down within a few miles of the Titan.
The alien ship had completed its approach and had landed more swiftly than anticipated. This fact and its appearance brought to mind the Galactic Traders, also known as Springers. They had also been descendants of the Arkonides but had made themselves independent many thousand of years ago. Having no fixed home planet or system allegiance, they spent their entire lives in the spacers. They lived in them with their families but they were also the shrewdest of merchants, even trading entire planets. As a presumed little sideline, they had once attempted to loot a certain ridiculously minor-sized world called Earth—but that had been prevented: a certain Perry Rhodan had given the Springers such a beating that they had to run for their lives.
And now Rhodan saw a Springer ship standing near the contaminatedTitan. Springers always flew cylindrical spacers. That shape was typical of their ships.
"So it's the Traders after all!" Khrest muttered in agitation. "I really had not considered them capable of a crime like this."
Pucky maintained a remarkable silence. He never took his eyes off this alien spacer which had approached with such lightning speed from interstellar space and manoeuvred to a landing in such an unbelievably short time.
"Well, Khrest, there is still another point to consider. Who notified this spacer? Where on Honur is the transmitter located that could send the message? And specifically who made the transmission? One of the Honos? I'll say no to that. But I will venture to guess that a hidden Trader control station here has put these angels of death on our trail!"
Khrest was inspired to say, "Perry, today you are once more the old Perry Rhodan. Thank Heaven for that!" However, he could not see Perry's sad smile because they were invisible to each other.
"Yesterday I lived through the darkest hour of my life, Khrest. I just couldn't go on. I was desperate. In fact, I still am. Maybe yesterday I had more time for brooding than I do now. The responsibility for the crew threatened to suffocate me. Yes, Khrest, yesterday I turned coward. I can never forget that hour. After all, I'm only human. I had become almost physically helpless, not knowing if I even breathed. But it's human nature never to give up hope as long as there is a breath... and now, Khrest, I am breathing—deeply and strongly!"
This confession was deeply moving to the Arkonide, being forced to admire the man who had courage to admit his own weaknesses. What Arkonide could ever do that? None!
"Pucky," said Rhodan, "scan the ship."
The mouse-beaver understood. Using his telepathic skills, he searched the intervening space between himself and the alien ship, attempting to perceive any new thought impulses.
Discouraged, he had to report: "I'm not receiving any actual brain-wave patterns. I've rarely observed such a confused outpouring. All I get is garbled—it's an unintelligible mess!"
Invisible in their spacesuits, they all remained silent. They observed the area between the two distant ships. They could see the Honos still squatting apathetically on the ground, appearing as mere dots among the Titan's struts. But not a single Hono made a move toward the cylindrical spacer.
"Anything from the Titan, Pucky?"
"Sick brainwave patterns. They are dancing and simply enjoying themselves to death!"
"The death part will have to wait!" challenged Perry, his new will daring to change the unchangeable into a happier course.
Khrest asked over the short-range radio-com: "Perry, I'm not sure—is the alien ship really a Springer spacer? I'm troubled by the shape of that hull. It seems slightly different."
A sudden new occurrence made this conversation superfluous.
Out of the spacer emerged a marching line of robots!
• • •
Tiff sat with Wuriu Sengu in the small control room of the reconnaissance ship. They had gradually begun a conversation. They talked about Perry's morale breakdown of the previous day and of the infected or poisoned crew of the Titan.
"I knew it!" said Tifflor, who bore a striking resemblance to Rhodan in spite of his youthful appearance. I knew the Chief wouldn't give in! He never will, as long as he lives. If he never sees Bell again, the tragedy would make him very lonesome, but it will never keep him from his goals." As Tiff spoke, his eyes gleamed with a loyal conviction.
"Tifflor, you haven't seen what I saw in the Titan," said Wuriu. "The Chief will only find corpses if he ever enters the Titan again. They dance, sing and bawl th
emselves to death. In the midst of a death-rattle they'll be laughing! I didn't know such things were possible. I could understand the Chief very well yesterday when he was at the point of collapse."
The micro-speaker blared suddenly. "Julian Tifflor!"
"Lt. Tifflor, Sir!"
Perry Rhodan's sharply commanding voice broke through.
• • •
100 robots marched along the lake toward the Titan. They had started their march only a minute before but still more fighting machines emerged from the bull of the cylindrical spacer.
The vultures were attacking...
"Pucky!" The mouse-beaver felt Rhodan's strong hand through the spacesuit.
"Ready to go?" squeaked the little one, all full of enterprise.
"Listen carefully," replied Rhodan. Then he issued long, complicated and detailed orders to the little furry fellow. At the end of it, he said, "So now it depends on you whether or not Reggie and all the others in the ship will have a chance to get well again."
Pucky took one more look at the robots that moved in close formation toward the Titan. "Friends," he chirped in their direction, "what our little machines leave unfinished, I will take care of! I'm going to convert you to dive bombers!"
Then Pucky dematerialized in a skilled teleporter jump, disappearing in the direction of the Titan...
• • •
Slow minutes dragged by. Now two columns of robots were moving along the waterfront, marching steadily toward the Titan. To Rhodan and Khrest they seemed to be a distant line of tin soldiers moving along the glimmering edge of the water. The alien ship still disgorged more and more of the articulated fighting machines. A third column was taking shape and moving out.