Red Eye of Betelguese

by Perry Rhodan

  Springers, purely because he had discovered them in the first place.

  Without paying him any more heed, they continued their council of war.

  Wor-Loek, Supreme Commander and Al-Khor's superior officer, was speaking. "So we appear to be in agreement that we will attempt to fight off the imminent attack of the Springers, alone and without assistance."

  "That is sheer nonsense!" declared Al-Khor quite loudly before he had even sat down. "We could hardly make a greater mistake!"

  Wor-Loek started visibly and acquired an ominous expression. Must he be contradicted specifically by the one who had so miserably failed? If the Dictator back home found out about what happened, Al-Khor would be finished anyway. A shadow of disgrace certainly fell upon himself, as well, the Supreme Commander of the water world.

  "So?" questioned Wor-Loek, testily. "You say I am making a mistake? Perhaps you will be good enough to comment a bit further on that point and to explain your justifications?"

  Al-Khor drew a deep breath. "Isn't it enough for you, that only two of these Springers blasted our station out of existence, after escaping from a securely locked cell? There was no possible defense against them because they possess a device with which they control the force of gravity. Also I am harboring a suspicion that they are going to attack the water world with an overwhelming striking force that will wipe us out completely after a very short engagement, if we are too proud to request reinforcements from the home planet."

  There was a stir of reaction among the Topides. Now Al-Khor's words were not being taken quite so lightly. But Wor-Loek refused to be swayed.

  "Who is telling you that such an attack will be brought against us?"

  "You know it as well as I do, Wor-Loek. It's your own pride that lets you countenance our destruction rather than call for help. You'd love to be a hero. I, however—and most of my colleagues—would much rather remain alive."

  A murmur of agreement emerged from the assembly. Wor-Loek searched about him among the others but he encountered only threatening looks.

  "Then I take it you are in favor of admitting our weakness to the Dictator?"

  "Yes, since we are blameless in the matter. And I even think we'll be doing our empire a favor..."

  Of course they were not doing that in any sense of the word but how was Al-Khor to know? No one could tell. Not even Rhodan.

  "Favor, you say?" Wor-Loek drew himself up and glanced across toward the door where two guards stood motionlessly with safety catches open on their hand beamers. "I am of another opinion and I believe you have failed us. Now you want to make excuses for it. That is mutiny and I will make you answerable for it. Guards! Al-Khor is under arrest! Take him to the prison under the water. Al-Khor you will surrender your weapons."

  Al-Khor stood there several seconds as if paralyzed but then his body became animated. In a lightning swift move, he drew his weapon and aimed it at the Supreme Commander. "I am under arrest? And I am to surrender my weapons? That is against all reason. Take back that insane order. We are close to a time when we have to stand together if we do not wish to go to our destruction."

  Wor-Loek relied on his authority, which included decision over life and death. "My decision stands. Guards, take Al-Khor into custody and I hereby strip him of all military honors."

  Now Al-Khor did not hesitate. With a single, well-aimed shot, he cut down his opponent, who fell to the floor as if struck by lighting. Then he turned to the guards and ordered them to return to their places. Within, he trembled in a turmoil of emotion, but outwardly he was amazingly calm.

  "Topides, we are now without a leader, but the main point is to make our decisions quickly. I stand by my proposal, to place ourselves immediately in communication with our home planet and make clear to the Dictator what has happened—and what is still going to happen if reinforcements are not sent as quickly as possible. An invasion by the Springers is imminent. They suspect the existence of an enemy stronghold in this system and are determined to destroy the third and fourth planets. However, we wish to colonize the water world and later the jungle world also, since we hold rights of prior possession. We have not seen any signs of an enemy in this system—other than the Springers, themselves. I am asking for your concurrence so that I can make contact with our home planet at once."

  The heavy raygun still rested in his hand but the muzzle pointed to the floor. Perhaps it was the sight of the dangerous weapon and the awareness of Al-Khor's uncompromising nature, which he had only now demonstrated, that moved all officers present to come to a unanimous agreement

  One of them stood up and said: "We are without a supreme commander. Therefore I move that Al-Khor take over Wor-Loek's position from this moment on."

  Again there was no objection.

  Al-Khor was thus the new commander of the water world and he took charge immediately. He turned to one of the officers. "Have the hyper-transmitter operator make contact at once with home base. I will be in the Communications Central in a few moments and will speak personally with the Dictator. However, the rest of you..." He again looked at all of them. "Proceed at once to your respective stations and ships and wait for further orders. The water planet is in a state of war..."

  Someone in the background asked: "What happens to the prisoners who are down below in a water cell?"

  Al-Khor nodded. "I'm glad you reminded me of that. They have to be rendered harmless before they also escape."

  "Perhaps they could give us useful information concerning the forthcoming invasion..."

  "No, we've run out of time... Besides, they've said everything that we want to know. They are too dangerous to be permitted to live. Arrange for the swiftest possible execution."

  The Topide in the back row gave a curt confirmation but he remained seated in order to wait for the conference to end.

  Which was precisely the wrong thing to do...

  • • •

  Tiff thought constantly of the things he wanted to be sure to transmit to John Marshall. In spite of the best of intentions and the greatest dedication to the task, it was the best he could do, since he was not an actual telepath. But he nursed the hope that Marshall was reading his thoughts—that the body-transmitter would serve as an excellent tracking device...

  McClears squatted in the comer on the transparent floor and stared reflectively at the sea bottom below, which he could now make out plainly in the full light of day. The weird fish creatures had disappeared again and so swiftly that it seemed they had been called away. The major's faint hope vanished. It turned out he could expect no help from them. But in any case, to what avail? Deringhouse and the mutants must surely be on their way by now to rescue him and Tiff.

  The main thing was that the Topides were convinced of an imminent attack by the Springers and they were initiating the appropriate defense preparations.

  So it had been worth the sacrifice. But McClears confessed to himself quite frankly that he was not going to sacrifice his life. He was a man of honor and a friend of Rhodan but he was no suicide. Only insane people were suicidal or self-sacrificing heroes!

  "There's nothing to see, Tiff. Since last evening, no more of them have shown themselves. Do you think maybe they've lost interest in us?"

  "Major, we don't know what their relationship is to the Topides. Perhaps they've received instructions not to allow themselves to be seen here anymore in the vicinity."

  "So why do they lock us in a glass prison under the ocean? So that maybe the fish people can observe us after all."

  "Do we know that for sure?" asked Tiff doubtfully. "Let's wait and see what happens."

  That was easier said than done. Since the day before they had squatted here below, idly waiting. No further examination or inquiry had ensued and they had also been given nothing to eat or to drink. Fortunately, McClears found a few tablets left in his pocket which were capable of helping against the strongest pangs of hunger and which minimized thirst.

  Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching. They
sensed the vibration of them clearly and they stood up. They felt that it would be better to face the reptiles on their feet. It may have been also a subconscious warning that moved them to do so.

  When the two Topides opened the door and stepped into the room, the two Earthmen knew immediately what was intended for them. This was clearly evidenced by the others' grimly narrowed eyes and the rayguns pointed at them.

  "They're going to execute us!" whispered Tiff and he quickly thought further: Help us, Marshall, Pucky! We don't have much time left. Our position is: the metal island off the coast, 10 fathoms below water level. They are demanding that we leave our cell. Quick, hurry it up!

  It was bright outside in the corridor. The brilliant illumination emitted by the ceiling and walls blinded them. The two Topides thrust their gun barrels into the backs of the prisoners and urged them forward. With grimly set expressions, McClears and Tiff moved onward to an unknown destination.

  The passageway made a sharp turn and ended in front of a grey metal door. The hand-wheel for turning the bolt mechanism indicated that this must be the door to an airlock.

  Or to a water-lock...

  One of the guards turned the wheel. Slowly the door swung back and revealed the chamber beyond.

  "Trex!" said the Topide in Arkonide. "Go! And have fun!"

  McClears remained where he was. Tiff moved forward while sending out his

  constant mental distress signals. He described their situation and hoped that their friends would not keep them waiting long. In fact, it was now high time.

  "You, too!"

  McClears didn't budge. Each second won was priceless.

  "What's going to happen to us?" he asked.

  The lizard's mouth drew itself into the semblance of a grin. "Al-Khor, the new Commander, has sentenced you to death. You will not suffer long. Drowning is fast."

  "Why should we die? Haven't we told you everything that was important to you?"

  "We didn't like the verdict," explained the Topide. "But I know that it was just. You've caused enough damage. A ground station has gone up in smoke, the other prisoners have gotten away, a number of Topides have been killed. You have earned a death sentence, so now get going!"

  McClears did not give up. "Are we responsible for the operation of the other Springers? We didn't order the invasion..."

  "That's enough conversation, Springer. Go!"

  He aimed the raygun at the major. McClears was finally sure that not another second of time could be gained. He turned and stepped into the narrow room where Tiff was waiting for him.

  "When they let the water in," he whispered, even while the heavy door was closing, "they'll have to let the outer lock door open. Then we can swim out!"

  "I'm afraid," retorted Tiff despairingly, "that they'll take enough time about it to let us drown first. They're shrewd enough to take that into their calculations. We can only hold our breaths, nothing more. And of course—hope!"

  McClears didn't answer.

  On the seaward side of the room, a narrow slit appeared next to the floor, which admitted water into the lock. The opening widened swiftly and the water rose correspondingly higher. It soon came to their chests.

  "The opening!" cried Tiff excitedly. "If it only comes up a little bit more, we can get through..."

  But the vertically sliding lock door remained where it was. The water level continued to rise without interruption, reaching now to their throats.

  "Breathe in!" shouted McClears. "Hold your breath, dive and try to get under it. Maybe there's some spot wider than another. Lots of luck, Tiff! We might just

  make it!"

  In a sudden burst, the water broke into the lock.

  Within a single second it rose to the ceiling and filled up the entire chamber. McClears and Tiff held their breaths and sank to the floor. They felt the water pressure; their ears started to ring and the lack of oxygen cramped their movements.

  McClears' groping fingers reached the upper edge of the door crevice. He pulled himself down and then touched something that was alive and moving.

  Were it not for the water, what came out of him would have been a yell, but instead his overstrained lungs surrendered their stored up air in a soundless gurgle.

  In a few seconds more, he would be finished...

  • • •

  The advanced guard of the Akvons slowed their pace and regrouped.

  What's wrong? asked André Noir by means of a hypnotic thought picture.

  Marshall and Pucky promptly received an answer: "The water fortress of the aliens. We have arrived. They have special doors that lead into them from out here."

  In the same moment the first distress call from Tiff was received. Pucky traced it and thought to Marshall: Not 30 feet in front of us. Should I make a jump?

  No, wait! Perhaps we can help without the Topides noticing it!

  Before them in the eternal twilight of the sea, the walls of the synthetic island shimmered. They stood on rounded support pilings and ended a good 10 fathoms below the surface of the water. The airlocks were evidenced by a row of narrow hatch slots. From here on, the Akvons were in the realm of the Topides, if circumstances so required it.

  Now we will fetch them out!

  Marshall nodded inside his helmet. It was a strange sensation to sit on the slender body of one of these mermen as though on a horse.

  Get their bearings, Pucky!

  The mouse-beaver, who under different circumstances would be having a whale of a time on this submarine excursion, guided his mount closer along the grey wall of the metal island. He pulled to a stop in front of one of the indented airlock doors.

  Here it is! They are being brought in. Tiff is already in the chamber. McClears is still outside talking.

  Marshall was already aware of this... and more...

  Above on the platform are guards with energy weapons. In case McClears and Tiff make it to the surface...

  As a suggestive hypnotist, Noir was of course not much of a telepath but he could understand the thought-impulses of Pucky and Marshall and by this means he was given instructions. Immediately he translated these into directions for the Akvons to follow. The little fishmen who were without riders suddenly exploded away as though on a commando charge. They swam up to the surface and began to romp and play there, according to their custom. They shot with lightning speed here and there like so many arrows; they roiled up the water, they hurtled yards high into the bright sunlight and then fell splashing back into their element.

  The half dozen Topides lowered their weapons. This was a sight to which they were accustomed.

  Pucky thought: Tiff is signaling that the water is being let in. After a few seconds: The opening slot is too narrow to let McClears and Tiff pass through.

  Marshall answered: Open it, Pucky!

  The mouse-beaver swam ahead still closer to the steel prison chamber and concentrated on the restrained sliding door of the lock. Slowly its lower edge began to move upward. Admittedly, this allowed the water to move faster into the lock but the opening became large enough to admit a man. Hopefully the two victims of the death sentence would realize this in time.

  They were aware of it.

  Pucky guided his Akvon slightly downward and reached into the open crevice. He was able to grab hold of a groping arm and to tug McClears through the aperture. The major's eyes were half opened but seemed not to perceive very much around him. A large air bubble emerged from his mouth and rose swiftly toward the surface.

  Quick, Marshall. He can only last 10 seconds. Bring him far enough away from here and then up to the surface. You can always dive under again.

  Marshall took charge of McClears, who did not resist and listlessly permitted anything to be done with him. Noir relayed the order to the Akvon. It was only with difficulty that Marshall was able to hang on with McClears, so tremendous was the acceleration with which they now shot away through a wall of water that seemed to become viscous in its resistance to their swift passage.


  Pucky waited not another second. He pressed through the narrow opening in the airlock chamber and immediately saw Tiff, who had given up his attempts to escape and floated up to the ceiling where not a single cubic inch of air remained.

  Pucky shoved up from the floor and was able to grab Tiff's feet. The weight of the spacesuit allowed him to sink down again. As fast as he could, he pushed Tiff, who was already half-unconscious, out into the sea. The waiting Akvon, who was Pucky's little 'seahorse', quickly took over. The fishman grasped the unconscious body, pulled it close to him and raced away without bothering about the mouse-beaver. The latter hesitated a moment, then turned around and swam back into the airlock.

  The two Topides who had imprisoned Tiff and McClears still stood before the door of the lock and conversed with one another. At the end of 10 minutes the outer lock gate was to be closed and the water was to be pumped out of the chamber. It was not yet time.

  They did not notice that the locking wheel on the door was being turned as though by an invisible hand. Then the door burst open. And with it surged a watery deluge that flooded over the completely surprised reptiles and swept them away with it.

  Pucky had opened the outer door completely so that the entire portion of the station below water level was inundated. Reptiles in this area either drowned or were able to save themselves in the last moment and bring the alarming news to the upper story, where the officers were still assembled and in their council of war.

  The water rose up to the platform and the metal island was thus rendered useless as a base of operations.

  Pucky slipped once more through the outer opening into the ocean and began to put some distance between himself and this area. The close proximity of the island was now fairly dangerous.

  He picked up the mental impulses from Marshall, who had come to the surface with McClears, several hundred yards away. The Topides on the platform were far too occupied to concern themselves with what was going on in the ocean. The island was, of course, unsinkable, but it was three-quarters inundated.