by Perry Rhodan
Bell was terribly bored. He hated nothing worse than having to sit and wait. Some of the mutants had left in order to establish contact with the rebels and show them how the Mooffs could be rendered harmless. So far the reports that had come in indicated that the instruction had been a great success.
Nevertheless, time was working against Rhodan and his friends.
The Zarlt was intent on annihilating the robot brain on Arkon, if the moment was opportune—even without the Mooffs' suggestions. However Rhodan did not volunteer to reveal how the fortress barrier around Arkon could be pierced.
Still, there were other ways of finding out!
The Zarlt summoned his confidants to a conference in his palace. One of these, who ranked high in the Zarlt's esteem, was an officer by the name of Hemor. He already knew Perry Rhodan in person. Further there was Milfor, chief of the Armed Forces, a power-thirsty Zalite willing to seize the slim chance of becoming the Zarlt in case something unforeseen should happen to Demesor. Finally, Cenets and Orbson completed the group, all former accomplices of the self-proclaimed Zarlt.
The five men were sitting in an isolated room located on the top floor of the palace. From there could be enjoyed a marvelous view of the entire spaceport area. The place was literally crawling with spacecraft of all kinds, for the greatest part of the fleet had been ordered to Tagnor by the Zarlt. He wanted to prevent at all costs that Rhodan would escape with his gigantic spacesphere, once his suspicion was aroused.
Milfor looked at Demesor with distrust in his eyes. "Why did you summon us to appear here today? We are well aware what we are supposed to do!"
"I'm confident that you know your task, Milfor," said Demesor, "but I have decided to change our tactics. How long has it been by now that we are waiting for Rhodan finally to divulge his secrets to us? It has been weeks, in case you've forgotten! Should we permit several more weeks to go by, waiting inactively? No! We must proceed to act now!"
Milfor was about to say something but then decided against it. Instead, Cenets spoke up: "To act? What do you mean by that? Are we supposed to attack Arkon without knowing how strong the Brain really is? Do we have sufficient data about the depth and nature of the ring of fortifications around Arkon? Is it possible to bypass it if we resort to a jump through hyperspace?"
"So far we have no information," admitted Demesor, "but it won't be long till we'll obtain it. Rhodan will reveal his secrets."
"I'm afraid we'll have to wait a very long time for Rhodan to do that. He definitely hasn't the least intention to tell us what he knows."
"Certainly he doesn't intend to reveal all out of his own free will," said Demesor. "But we can 'persuade' him—by force!"
Milfor looked up. His eyes began to glitter. Force! That was his kind of language. A cold smile played around his hard mouth. "That sounds better, Demesor. Force! That's the only way. But how do you plan to impose our will on Rhodan? He is very smart and has unusually capable friends, they say. Even the Mooffs can't read his thoughts."
"We'll invite him for a conference," suggested Demesor. "Our robots will subdue him by force in case the Zalites can't accomplish this by themselves. Once he's down in the palace vaults I guarantee he'll learn to talk. My scientists will see to that."
"What if he doesn't come alone?" Cenets remarked cautiously.
The Zarlt answered with a derisive smile. "Our robots can handle 10 men like Rhodan, Cenets. Don't you worry about that. And then once we've learned how to penetrate unhindered into the Arkon System, we'll act. The days of the robot rule are numbered–long live the Zalite Empire of Arkon!"
"Long live the Zalite Empire!" the whispered voices of the other four men confirmed the new battle-cry of Zarlt Demesor's conspiracy.
• • •
Admiral Zernif's friends opened the attack exactly at the appointed hour. Important government buildings and especially those of the all-powerful spacefleet were blown up in and around Tagnor. Even one of the bigger ships exploded on the landing field. Fortunately there was no loss of life since the crew was busy with outside repairs.
The Zarlt's military forces were openly assaulted as they were patrolling civilian neighbourhoods. A considerable number of Demesor's hirelings were killed while the citizens looked on impassively.
Factories situated in the rural districts went up in the air and entire armament works were destroyed. It became evident how well the rebels had prepared this coup, how effectively they were organized. Such a revolt could never have been hatched inside a few hours. They must have planned a similar uprising for quite some time. Rhodan's initiative had merely hastened the course of events.
The Zarlt sounded the alarm. Smaller units of the spacefleet were diverted to their original home ports. Transporters brought troops from remote areas in order to nip the rebellion in the bud.
Hard as the Zarlt's forces tried to seize the revolutionaries they were always too late; they could never find a trace of the saboteurs who seemed to vanish into thin air as soon as their acts had been perpetrated. Nobody admitted to having seen them; nobody could furnish the slightest clue.
Amidst all this chaos, no one paid any attention when a small, disk-shaped ship came shooting down from the evening sky toward the edge of the space-landing field, quickly to disappear in the open landing hatch of the 2500 foot-tall Ganymede.
The landing manoeuvre had been accomplished undisturbed and unnoticed. The same instant all sabotage acts ceased abruptly all over Zalit.
Calm returned as if there had never been a resistance movement.
• • •
The night passed without any incidents.
The following morning around 11 o'clock a car approached the Titan. It stopped close to the lower entrance hatch. An officer got out of the car, gazed upwards, probably in the hope that someone would notice him.
It was his good luck that this very moment Sgt. Harnahan by sheer coincidence decided to switch on the video-spy in the entrance hatch. He saw the colorful uniform of the Zalite. At first he believed this gaudy object to be a gigantic parrot but he quickly realized his mistake. The officers on Zalite always looked as if they had come straight from a masquerade.
Sgt. Harnahan shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care if the Zalites would even adorn themselves with medals from head to toe.
But what business had this guy being here? For a moment Sgt. Harnahan pondered whether it was prohibited, opening this hatch. He could not recall ever having heard of any such ruling. After all, the entrance was more than 30 feet above the concrete-covered ground of the landing field. There was hardly any danger unless the fellow down there happened to be a record high-jumping athlete.
Harnahan let the airlock slide aside a bit, until a gap just large enough to stick his head through opened up.
"No pedlars or agents allowed here!" he shouted down.
The officer of the Zarlt was so startled that he jumped back a couple of feet. It was Hemor who had not counted on such a rude reception. He knew that Rhodan's men could speak Intercosmo.
"I'm coming on behalf of the Zarlt," he called back, ignoring the disrespectful warning. "Rodantokvil. I want to talk to Rhodan."
"Mr. Rhodan to you!" roared Harnahan, who suddenly remembered that one should place great value on good manners. "Wait a moment, I'll go and ask him."
And before Hemor could make a reply, the hatch was shut again. The Zalite was boiling with rage but he managed not to show it. The Zarlt had insisted on composure. Composure and patience. There would be plenty of opportunity later on to make Rhodan suffer for his impudence.
Thus Hemor was left standing all alone—waiting and waiting.
Harnahan was in no particular hurry.
Using a variety of elevators he finally reached the command center from where he called Rhodan via intercom. Rhodan was still in his cabin after having spent half the night with the mutants, busily discussing the next phase of action.
"Who wants to talk to me?" he tried to ascertain, amazed. "An officer
?"
"He pretends he was sent by the Zarlt," Harnahan informed the face peering at him from the videoscreen. "He says it's urgent."
Rhodan jumped out of bed. "Tell him to wait. Don't let him inside the ship. I'll go and see him."
"Alone?"
"Of course, or do you think I'm afraid of a single Zalite officer? You can watch me from the entrance hatch."
Harnahan switched off the intercom and returned to the starting point of his adventure. The gaily-bedecked officer was still waiting at the same spot; his legs seemed ready to drop off.
"Hey, you, down there!" Harnahan hailed him and opened the airlock hatch all the way. He sat down on the threshold, let his legs dangle over the side. "You are supposed to wait. Rhodan will soon join you."
That was a bit exaggerated for Rhodan took his own good time. After all, he had just got up. He had a leisurely breakfast after he had made sure, by way of the external viewer, who had come to call on him. He had met Hemor before. He was the officer who had discovered him at the border regions of the system and who had escorted him to Zalit. It might be advisable perhaps to take Marshall along: he could check up on Hemor's thoughts.
But then Rhodan decided against this plan. He was after all familiar with Demesor's intentions. Besides, Marshall needed to get some rest after the latest sortie.
Rhodan arrived at the lock, gently tapped Harnahan on the shoulder. The sergeant was so startled that he lost his balance and would have fallen all the way to the ground if Rhodan had not caught hold of him at the last moment.
"You scare easy, don't you?" Rhodan sounded surprised.
Harnahan quickly regained control of himself. "No, sir. I got sleepy watching that parrot down there. He has such a bored face."
Rhodan laughed. "Let down the ramp. I'll have a closer look at that funny-looking bird."
Hemor was patiently waiting and finally his persistence paid off. Rhodan had arrived to take the first step inside the trap that had been prepared for him.
Hemor walked over to the hated alien visitor on his home planet who threatened to wreck all their carefully laid plans. "No need to apologize," he began politely with an obliging smile. "The Zarlt also doesn't always have time for unannounced visitors." That was a veiled hint and a direct threat at the same time. "The Zarlt would be pleased to receive you tonight as his guest. No festivities, just an important discussion of the situation."
Rhodan feigned surprise: "A discussion of the situation? In what manner am I involved in the situation on Zalit?"
Hemor blinked his eyes against the bright midday sun. "A great deal, I suppose. Since you choose not to reveal your secret to the Zarlt we'll just have to attack the Brain without your assistance. The Zarlt wishes to inform you of his plans and to request you to depart from Zalit. But he wishes to tell you all this himself. I should not steal a march on him with this information."
But this was exactly what Hemor had just done. And on purpose! He wanted to arouse Rhodan's curiosity. His move seemed to be a success.
"Aha, you finally are going to attack Arkon... And I'm supposed to leave Zalit? The robot brain will start hunting me down."
"It will be too busy coping with us," asserted a very self-assured Hemor. "We are of the opinion that it will no longer bother you once we are through with it."
Was Hemor speaking the truth? Rhodan regretted now that he had come without Marshall. He couldn't decline the Zarlt's invitation, that would look too suspicious. He had to keep pretending that he fully trusted the Zarlt, still hoping to become his partner in the battle against the robot brain. Rhodan decided to change the topic of conversation.
"What happened yesterday? We observed several explosions in the city and a great deal of activity of your spacefleet. Was there any trouble?"
"A few minor incidents, nothing important. The Zarlt will tell you all about it if you are interested. May, I inform him that you accept his invitation?"
"I accept and will bring along some of my advisers."
"Come two hours before sunset," Hemor said in parting and walked over to his car. Without looking back even once he got into his car and motioned to his driver. The vehicle set itself in motion immediately, driving toward the edge of the landing field where the exit led onto the main road toward the city.
The official Zalite car, which was constantly ready for Rhodan's use, was waiting as usual in its old place. Tonight it would carry them to the Zarlt's palace.
Suddenly Rhodan was overcome by a strong doubt as to whether his generous host's intention that the car would also bring them back again to the Titan...
• • •
The day passed quietly.
Ras Tschubai was traveling around with Tama Yokida, putting Mooff after Mooff out of action. John Marshall, accompanied by Admiral Zernif and the teleporter Tako Kakuta, had rushed from one rebel hide-away to the next in order to make preparations for the final revolt against the Zarlt. The various commando troops were all in a state of readiness. A brief message would propel them into action. Each group had been outfitted with a special receiver which would transmit the signal for attack.
Zernif returned with Marshall to the Titan. He would lead the action from the giant spacesphere.
Three hours before sunset Rhodan called a meeting in the mess hall of the mutants. In addition there were present the two Arkonides, Bell and Lt. Tifflor as liaison officer to the Ganymede.
"The Zarlt has invited me to a discussion of the current situation on Zalit. Bell and Marshall will accompany me there. Needle-ray guns will be our only weapons. To be quite frank: I smell a rat. Therefore the Mutant Corps will remain in a state of constant readiness for immediate action. John Marshall's liaison will be Betty Toufry. Listen, Betty, you must stay in uninterrupted telepathic contact with Marshall, is that clear?" Rhodan waited until the still very young girl—a gifted telepath and telekin—had nodded her head in agreement. Then he continued. "Thora will assume the command of the Titan. At the first sign of a serious attack you are to take off! Yes, Thora, I said take off! Execute a transition across two light-years to a point in space whose co-ordinates are to be found on the navigation desk. Colonel Freyt will be informed by Tiff. Neither the Titan nor the Ganymede must be exposed to any danger although it is difficult to imagine that their protecting force fields could be penetrated. But I am foremost concerned that no unnecessary bloodshed will occur."
Pucky, who had been lying in a comfortable armchair, all coiled up and apparently disinterested in what was going on, stretched to his full length of one yard. A furtive reproach was in his clever brown eyes. "And how about us?" he asked. "Are we supposed to take off with the Titan while all the action is going to be here on Zalit?"
Smiling, Rhodan shook his head. "Who said any such thing? Before the Titan departs, the teleporters will transport all members of the Mutant Corps to the prepared hide-outs of the rebels. This will also include Zernif. Then all operations against the Zarlt will start immediately. Everything is ready. Only the exact time is not yet determined. That depends entirely on the Zarlt..."
Pucky breathed a sigh of relief. "And I was sure we were supposed to sleep while you would carry on with your mission here on Zalit all by yourself."
Rhodan's smile vanished abruptly. "I have a feeling that I couldn't manage by myself, Pucky. A decision may be made tonight..."
The creature was round, with a diameter of three feet and about as tall as wide. It squatted without moving in a pressurized container, which was filled with a dense methane atmosphere. This was the life-sustaining environment for the Mooffs.
The container was standing in a closed room inside the Zarlt's palace, not far from the small hall where the discussion with Rhodan was scheduled to take place.
As was his daily custom, the Mooff carefully probed the thoughts of all the Zalites who were present in the Zarlt's palace. There was no traitor among them, he quickly ascertained. Then he started concentrating on the Zarlt and suggested his thought-image to him: Zarlt Demeso
r, what are your plans for tonight?
Demesor was in his private quarters getting dressed when he 'saw' the question. He could literally perceive it like some physical object before his mind's eye. He realized that one of the Mooffs was trying to get in touch with him. They were faithful and dependable servants.
I have invited Perry Rhodan. You are to survey his thoughts and inform me if he has come with treacherous intentions.
The Zarlt knew that the Mooff could understand him. The confirmation followed promptly. Rhodan is Zalit's enemy. He must be killed. We'll help you with it. But you must proceed very cautiously. Some of his companions are very capable telepaths. They can read your thoughts. I'll therefore take care that you as well as all others who know of your project will receive a defense-block to shield your minds.
Demesor was happy to learn that his vague notion about Rhodan's friends numbering some telepaths among them was now borne out by the Mooff. He appreciated the Mooff's warning. "Thank you," he said out loud. "This means that Rhodan won't have any forewarning what we have in store for him?"
He won't have the faintest inkling until the moment you start acting. And then it'll be too late for him to do anything about it. After you have taken him prisoner, have him brought to me. To the big hall of the telepaths. Don't forget!
For a moment Demesor believed he heard some threat expressed with this demand but his doubts were quickly dispelled; they totally vanished. Why, of course, the Mooff was right if he wished to reserve for himself the right to cross-examine Rhodan. A telepath was much better qualified to dig out secrets from his prisoners.
Zarlt Demesor smiled.
He was actually looking forward to this very promising evening.
4/ GOLDEN GIRLS WITH HEARTS OF STEEL
Bell was busy checking on the perfect fit of his uniform. "I wonder if there'll be some girls at the Zarlt's party tonight?" He tried to make his voice sound very casual while he was vigorously brushing his stiff red hair-bristles in the vain hope of making them lie smoothly along the contours of his head. "After all, there must be some girls living on Zalit."