The Giant's Partner

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by Perry Rhodan


  The Zarlt stood up. "Let's end this foolish game," he said coldly. "We have been listening too long to your promises. It's finished. If you care to go on living you'll have to reveal your secrets to us. But before you start talking we'll go to another room. Do you carry weapons?"

  "Why don't you have the 'girls' search us," suggested Bell, who was getting more and more furious after overcoming his initial shock.

  They had no choice but to remain motionless as they were being disarmed. The steel arms of the masquerading robots permitted no resistance. Rhodan did not feel alarmed. He knew that Marshall had long since sent the danger signal to the Titan. The battle had begun.

  "My grandmother always used to say," Bell stated, enraged, "that a harmless fellow like myself would some day be taken in by some no good vamp. But she certainly had no idea that it would be a make-believe female with a heart of steel!"

  "Sooner or later you'd have noticed the difference, I'm sure," murmured Marshall, half in fun.

  The Zarlt and the officers motioned to the six robots and gave them an order in a strange language. Then Rhodan and his companions were lifted effortlessly by the strong steel arms of the pretty 'girls' and carried out of the hall.

  • • •

  The three teleporters Tako Kakuta, Ras Tschubai and Pucky had their hands full transporting all the members of the Mutant Corps into the various hide-outs of the rebel forces. The whole transaction was accomplished in 10 minutes and the Titan was left without any mutants.

  For the first time Thora and Khrest found themselves all alone in the gigantic ship apart from the crew which had no possible way to interfere in any plans the two Arkonides might carry out.

  One year ago, Thora would have used this opportunity to seize the spacesphere and flee to Arkon, as she once had actually attempted to do. Now everything was different.

  Khrest seemed to have guessed her thoughts for he smiled gently. "You like Rhodan, don't you, Thora? Just admit it, if I'm right. By the way, I'm also very fond of him."

  "It probably wouldn't be quite the same if when we returned to Arkon we had found the same conditions we used to know," she indirectly confirmed Khrest's conjecture. "This way however..."

  "We couldn't wish for any better friend and ally, Thora. He dealt so much more effectively with the robot brain than all the Arkonides put together during the past six years. If we were to lose Rhodan it would also mean losing our own future. He entrusted the Titan to our care. Do you realize that this is a very important vote of confidence in us?"

  "Yes," Thora said simply. "I know. And I shall justify his trust in us. Rhodan and his friends are on this planet here, the treacherous Zarlt has arrested him and I have no chance now to show him how much I would like to come to his assistance. And worse still, I may have to flee from this planet with the Titan as promised. It seems like treason to me to run away and leave him here a prisoner in the Zarlt's power."

  "It would amount to treason if we would act against his orders," Khrest tried to calm the lovely Arkonide woman. He examined the videoscreens which showed an outside view of the spaceport. "Why don't you get some sleep, Thora? I'll be on guard and I promise to wake you if anything should happen."

  "To sleep?" wondered Thora. "How can I sleep if he is in danger?"

  Khrest's face expressed astonishment. "Are you that worried about him?"

  She silently nodded her head in affirmation. It was a frank and brave gesture.

  "You must get some rest, to be strong when the hour of decision arrives. The moment of truth may not be long in coming. I want to prove to Rhodan that he can rely on us—and that we can still fight–if necessary. Please, Thora, leave me alone now."

  The platinum-haired enigma stared at him reflectively for a few instants, then obediently left the command center.

  Khrest knew he could reach her with a single touch of a button. There was no spatial separation on the Titan in this respect.

  He stayed alone in the cencom and prepared himself for a long wait during the night.

  He was wrong. This night turned out to be quite short after all.

  • • •

  Kitai Ishibashi was the second hypno of the Mutant Corps. He could impose his will so forcefully on other people that they were absolutely convinced they were acting on their own initiative. He together with Pucky and the seer Wuriu Sengu (who could look right through solid matter) were in an underground hideaway of the rebels. It was located in a park on the outskirts of the city.

  Pucky endeavored not to lose contact with Marshall. This was no easy task since the telepath's thought vibrations were superimposed by foreign impulses which kept constantly growing stronger. It was a logical guess that these impulses originated with the Mooffs.

  They are bringing us to the basement vaults of the palace. Marshall informed his fellow telepaths: "For the time being there is no real danger but Rhodan's orders are that Zernif is to act according to plan. I can't receive you very well, friends, the Mooffs are too near now—there seems to be a large number of them. And I don't know if you understand me. In any case: we are 30 feet below ground in a large, well-lit vault. Just a moment—wait for further announcements. I can't now..."

  Pucky was furious. He growled: "Oh, confound it! What's going on now? Wuriu, can't you see anything?"

  The seer shook his head. "Too great a distance, Pucky—I'm no wizard. Can't we get a bit nearer to the palace?"

  The mouse-beaver wanted to answer but he remained silent because new impulses, stronger and more intense, began to penetrate his brain.

  They didn't come from Marshall. They didn't come from anyone known to Pucky.

  He was jerked out of his musings by the shrill sound of the receiver which connected them with the Titan.

  It was Khrest.

  "Attention everybody! The Titan is being attacked by strong enemy forces. We'll take off in accordance with orders and wait at the agreed-on point in deep space. Colonel Freyt will take the Ganymede to safety. Lots of luck! And spring the trap to set Rhodan free! It's up to you to save his life and the future of the Empire. Everything depends on you now!"

  Khrest switched off the receiver, Pucky settled back on his hind legs and used his broad beaver tail for additional support to make sure he wouldn't lose his balance. His eyes were filled with a silent question he didn't dare express. He briefly established communication with the other telepaths, who were staying with various other rebel groups, to make sure they had all heard Khrest's communique.

  This bulletin had established one fact: the Zarlt had dispensed with any pretenses. He was attacking openly both the Titan and the Ganymede. He had taken Perry Rhodan prisoner.

  Pucky emitted a shrill dissonant whistle. Then he said in his incredibly high-pitched voice:

  "Gentlemen! Rebel friends! Rogal! Now you'll have a chance to prove what you have learned! The revolution has begun! We'll overthrow Demesor and his henchmen and liberate Perry Rhodan–well, what are you waiting for?"

  Rogal stared with admiration at the little mouse-beaver whom he saw today for the first time. He still could not comprehend why such a creature could be more intelligent than a Zalite. Then he forced himself to break away from this so fascinating spectacle, turned to his comrades-in-arms and exclaimed enthusiastically:

  "Long live the Empire! Long live Perry Rhodan!"

  Pucky quickly covered his huge ears with his paws as a resounding response reverberated through the underground vault.

  How miserable to have such big ears and to be a telepath...!

  5/ THE BITTEREST BATTLE OF PERRYS LIFE

  Bell screamed and raged as the two robot girls were carrying him out of the small hall. How differently he had envisioned this secretly planned rendezvous would turn out. Why must he always arrive at such hasty conclusions...?

  Rhodan and Marshall were just as enraged but they remained calm and collected in face of this hopeless situation. Physical strength alone could not prevail if one wanted to outwit a robot, even if it was fa
shioned in the shape of a pretty girl.

  An elevator carried them downstairs. One story below the official ground floor the elevator stopped. Demesor walked ahead to lead the way. They went along many-branched corridors which formed a complete subterranean domain 30 feet below ground level. Dim light came from the ceiling and spread a ghostly glow. Rhodan began to wonder what lay in store for them.

  Torture in order to wrest their secrets from them?

  If their captors were planning to use torture then definitely not the kind favored in the Middle Ages back on Earth but rather a cleverly hatched technological method of probing their brains where lies and false information were no longer possible. And after all, there were the Mooffs who could easily determine the veracity of all evidence obtained...

  The Mooffs...!

  Suddenly the scales fell from Rhodan's eyes. He felt an increasingly stronger pressure inside his skull and the beginning of a terrific headache. Bell had ceased struggling. He hung limply in the arms of the seductive girls who in reality were only soulless robots. Marshall behaved in a passive manner. He appeared to be listening to something.

  The Mooffs were the driving force behind the Zarlt's sudden activity. That's what it was!

  Rhodan became aware of increased probing of his brain, all coming from the same direction–from straight ahead.

  Their captors were taking them to the Mooffs...?

  Despite his hardly enviable situation Rhodan hastily managed to develop a theory. Experience had taught them that a single Mooff did not possess sufficient suggestive powers to force its will upon an Earthman. The Mooffs were good telepaths but not as effective in their role as suggestors.

  But what would happen, Rhodan continued his stream of thoughts, if four or five Mooffs would simultaneously concentrate their efforts on one single Earthling's mind? Would the five fold increased energy suffice to bring their victim under their will?

  The Mooffs seemed to have made identical deliberations and to be convinced of a positive outcome, for Rhodan was certain now that it wasn't just one but at least four or five Mooffs that tried to examine his mind.

  That was an eventuality he had failed to take into consideration.

  And this very eventuality constituted a tremendous threat.

  He communicated this assumption to Marshall, who received the news with a very worried expression. But then no more time was left to make any further reflections on their situation.

  The Zarlt came to a halt in front of a door. Milfor started to grin in a frankly sadistic manner and nudged Bell in the ribs. The redhead responded with an outraged roar. Demesor opened the door and led the way. The four officers and the six robots with their captives followed.

  Rhodan saw that his fears had not been unfounded.

  They entered a big, high-ceilinged vault which was lit up by bright lamps. Along the back wall stood a long row of pressure-tight containers holding about one dozen Mooffs. Glistening pipes connected the pressure chambers with a regeneration aggregate which continuously renewed the methane atmosphere the Mooffs needed for breathing. The alien creatures—huge jellyfish some 4-5 feet in height and measuring three feet across—sat motionless inside their containers and gaped with their fixed button-eyes at the arrivals.

  Rhodan felt a wave of suggestive impulses wash over him. With what little powers of concentration were left to him he fought against the violent forces beamed at his brain. The four arms of the robot girls constrained him so tight that he was unable to move. True, there was nothing to be accomplished if he tried to use physical strength.

  Now the Zarlt's voice broke in. "Rhodan, how did you succeed in overcoming the outer ring of fortifications around Arkon? Speak up or I'll hand you over to my scientists."

  Rhodan remembered that the Zarlt had no inkling of the Mooffs' suggestive talents. The Zarlt believed he would simply check on the veracity of Rhodan's statements with the help of the Mooffs. He did not realize that he himself was in the power of the jelly-fish creatures who caused him to act according to their own designs. Demesor and his four officers were no different in this respect from Rhodan and his two companions–they too were prisoners of the Mooffs.

  However these five Zalites would not have changed their basic views even without the Mooffs' suggestions. And it was this fact alone which confirmed the sentence which had long since been pronounced and was waiting now to be finally carried out.

  "You won't find out anything from me, Zarlt," said Rhodan.

  The beams of suggestive forces which had temporarily eased became stronger again. Rhodan noticed that neither Bell nor Marshall were affected by it—but then he needed his undivided concentration to meet the renewed assault of the Mooffs.

  It was a silent duel. Only Rhodan understood the question that suddenly was present in his brain:

  Do you know who we are? Why are you trying to fight us off?

  Because I know who you are!

  Rhodan was simply thinking this phrase and he knew that the 12 Mooffs understood him. It was the first time that he was establishing a direct contact with his opponent though the circumstances were not of his own choosing nor to his liking.

  You will tell the Zarlt how it is possible to attack Arkon!

  Why should I? A person like Demesor is not capable of ruling the Arkonide Empire. Or is it rather that you want to obtain this information?

  Yes, we want to find this out from you!

  On whose behalf?

  For a few marvelous seconds all suggestive impulses disappeared, the pressure in his brain vanished. It seemed the 12 Mooffs had withdrawn in order to consult with each other. Rhodan made use of this wonderful reprieve to send a swift thought message to Marshall: What's going on with our mutants? Are the rebels attacking? Do they know what has happened to us? Hurry up and answer me aloud in English! I can't concentrate sufficiently in order to receive your thoughts directly.

  "Mutant Corps in action! Rebellion starting! Assault on the Titan has begun. Another half an hour, Pucky thinks..."

  He could not finish. Milfor approached and hit Marshall in the mouth with his fist.

  "You aren't supposed to talk with each other!" Demesor commanded furiously. "Only when you are

  asked. And I have put a question to you, Rhodan!"

  "Just go on waiting for an answer!" Rhodan suggested coldly while he calculated what might happen in this next half hour. Of course, there was always the possibility of simply telling the truth to Demesor. What good would the information do him unless he had a teletransmitter." Besides, Demesor's reign—if all went according to plan—would last only another 30 minutes. —But then Rhodan's unflinching pride and unshakable will to triumph over his adversaries won out. "You can wait till you fry in hell!"

  Demesor had perfect self-control, or maybe the Mooffs gave him an order not to lose his temper. Anyhow, he remained silent and kept watching the events unfolding in front of his eyes.

  Now the Mooffs proceeded ruthlessly. They resumed their assault on Rhodan with combined and concentrated forces. A tidal wave of painful thought impulses stormed against Rhodan's brain, threatening to drown it under their weight. Rhodan's mental capacities had been greatly reinforced thanks to Khrest's hypno-training. Thus he managed to erect a thought-shield which weakened the incoming impulses of the Mooffs. Nevertheless it was a superhuman effort to resist them.

  Rhodan fought the bitterest battle of his life.

  His opponents remained immobile inside their transparent boxes, relatively harmless and totally defenseless foes—provided their intended victim had full use of his arms and legs. They were mute by nature and therefore communicated only via telepathy; in their home world they had developed parapsychological abilities which constituted an unimaginable force–if applied in coordination.

  Rhodan realized now that they had underestimated the Mooffs—unless the latter had only recently learned to deploy their suggestive forces according to some predestined plan at the proper time.

  Time...

>   Rhodan knew he had to gain time. He could sense his resistance fade away under the onslaught of the alien monsters' suggestive impulses. He tried to maintain his mental defenses with every fiber of his being. He was still holding out. But for how much longer...?

  He almost collapsed as the Mooffs. abruptly withdrew. Just like a man who is throwing his full weight against a door which suddenly gives way.

  25 minutes to go!

  Marshall's eyes assumed a fixed stare. Rhodan realized that the Mooffs had selected another victim. Perhaps they might try later on once more with him but they seemed more interested in finding the weakest of their three prisoners.

  The Zalites remained quiet. They appeared as if seized by a spell, unaware what was going on before their eyes. Rhodan felt no pity for them. He pictured in his mind's eye what would happen to the Empire if they would seize power and eliminate the robot brain from its present position as ruler. It would be a reign of puppets, moving to the strings held by the Mooffs who again in turn were acting according to the commands of some mightier and more clever unknown third party.

  No!

  Misplaced compassion might bring about the fall of an empire and serfdom for hundreds of worlds.

  Alarmed, Rhodan turned his attention to Marshall who, being a telepath, had enough experience and energy to ward off the Mooffs' assault.

  Scarcely four minutes later the jellyfish creatures gave up their attempt.

  Before they attacked their third victim, Rhodan sent thoughts in Marshall's direction. Call Pucky! Urge him to hurry up! Only Pucky can help us now!

  Now it was Bell's turn...

  He, too, had gone through the hypno-schooling of the Arkonides, which had tremendously enlarged his knowledge. Yet the capacity of his mental defenses was not sufficient to entirely ward off the Mooffs' attack.

  His face was contorted with pain. Beads of perspiration covered his forehead as the agonizing impulses threatened to corrode his brain. His lips began to stammer helplessly and his eyes no longer perceived where his body was.

 

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