Vagabond of Space

by Perry Rhodan

  "Of course we'll go have a look! What else?"

  Rex grinned and shook his head with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

  In the ensuing pause in the conversation, Torero was heard from.

  "Let me out of here!" he screeched.

  Graybound didn't even turn to look at him. "Shut your beak. We're busy!"

  The bird's answer was prompt and to the point: "Bums! Hypocrites! Rabble!"

  Graybound regarded his heavy fists reflectively and spoke half aloud for the parrot's benefit. "I know, old buddies, you'd like to twist that smart-alec buzzard's dirty little neck! I sort of go along with that myself but you see he can't help being a dummy. It seems his family line came from Hiroshima and the little blockhead was also born in that area. What we're dealing with is a mutated parrot and that's what's got him fouled up in the head-pan. He considers himself better than other parrots. He only thinks he's a mutant but actually he's just a stupid dumb blabbermouth of a bird. So if you guys will go easy on him I'll try to do the same..."

  Rex did not let this distract him from his work. He was accustomed to Graybound's unique habits such as talking like this to his own two hands. Since Torero decided to merely play the part of being insulted and only sat on his perch in sulking silence, Rex was able to finish up without delay.

  "Right on the nose—the second planet," he said. "We'll be making an entry into the atmosphere in a few minutes. If our instruments are still working right I'd say the air down there is breathable."

  There was a gleam of suspicion in Graybound's eyes. "Is this system registered in the charts?"

  Rex shook his head. "No—nothing listed in the catalogs, either. Why?"

  "I was thinking we might luck in and find some valuable minerals or other raw materials. That way at least we wouldn't have made a dry run with this detour."

  He took another look at his instruments. "So far I haven't picked up any definite details. Optically the surface down there is so hard to see that it might as well not be there. No sign of any continent—completely featureless. Looks like one solid land mass."

  "That's one break," said Graybound. "Then at least we won't drown if we make a crash landing."

  "Where did you get a crazy notion like that?"

  "I was just kidding." The old skipper grinned and studied the viewscreen where the planet was becoming more discernible. "But something is funny about all this, don't you think? What do the analyzers have to say about it?"

  "That's just it!" grumbled Rex, somewhat mystified. One after the other he read the meter indications. "There's a heavy reading on physical material down there but not one compound is inorganic. That isn't possible—a whole planet can't consist entirely of organic substances!"

  Graybound stared at Rex in perplexed amazement. "Come again? Organic? The whole surface of the planet?" He shook his head. "Impossible!"

  "I know it's impossible but can the instruments lie? Do you think maybe they can be fooled? Or maybe we're crazy."

  "Organic!" Graybound couldn't buy it. "Maybe they've got the ultimate population density down there—standing on each other's feet, so close together that the analytical tracers can't get through them."

  Rex immediately blasted this wild theory. "The figures I get give a partial indication that the stuff is about 200 feet deep all over the surface. Now could you perhaps explain how it's possible..."

  "Alright—OK!" said Graybound in self-defense as he continued to stare at the screen, lost in thought. "It was just an idea."

  The planet had become larger but its albedo appeared to be unusually weak. There was hardly any reflection of the sun's rays from its surface.

  "Nothing but grey and no contours," muttered Rex. "I never ran into anything like this before, myself. No mountains or valleys. No rivers or forests-not any vegetation at all. Yet the whole thing's organic! It is impossible, actually, as far as I..."

  Graybound got up. "Smith!" he called out. "No more signals from down below?"

  "The receiver's completely silent!" was the reply.

  Graybound sat down again. "He's an idiot but can't help it," he declared. "How are we supposed to locate these castaways?"

  "You think maybe their radio's shot?"

  "Looks that way. First they sent out a hypercom signal, so they must have a modern ship. Then came normal signals which also faded out. So I figure their whole communication system's kaput. But why?"

  Rex gave no answer because he didn't have one. He manoeuvred the Lizard into an orbit around the second planet and sank deeper into the atmosphere. The analyzer indicators did not change their readings. Down below on the surface there was a complete absence of inorganic material.

  The first glimmerings of a suspicion stirred in Graybound's mind but it was so incredible that he rejected it at once. Yet he could not subdue the thought. It kept surfacing as the only logical conclusion that could be drawn from the analytical indicators. Suddenly a coarse cry from the parrot tore him out of his brooding.

  "Right you are, you red-bearded monstrosity!"

  Graybound overlooked the insult, seeming not to have heard it, and that alone was an indication of his mental disturbance at the moment. "Are you a mind-reader or something?" was his only rejoinder. He glared in desperation at Rex. "Can it really be possible that the planet is organic? That it... is alive...?"

  The First Officer was a man who was completely realistic and did not believe in supernatural things. Of course he realized that in the endless reaches of the

  universe one could bump into some miraculous-seeming phenomena which could not be explained on the basis of normal human knowledge. He also knew that there were extra-terrestrial life forms which had not previously been imagined. But he also knew that all such forms of life had one thing in common. There was always some parallel or precedent to go by.

  "A living planet?" Rex started to guffaw. "No, there's never been anything like that! How could it ever come into existence?" But when he happened to glance again at the analyzer board he frowned. "Hm-m-m..." he muttered, still skeptical.

  The monotonous grey surface could at last be seen more clearly. Actually, when observed from above it had the appearance of a gently undulating sea that had suddenly frozen solid. There were no whitecaps but there were low crests and shallow troughs which could only be seen under magnification.

  Graybound pointed to the scene, beginning to doubt his own theory. "And that's supposed to be alive?" he said.

  "I'm with you," returned Rex, supporting his skepticism.

  The instruments, however, flatly stated the opposite.

  Smith appeared at the door. "Do you think I should try to contact them? Maybe they'll answer.

  Graybound was startled out of his meditations. "Don't you dare! You want to have somebody after our necks? We still don't know what the game is here. Besides, we've got other problems. So just hold off till you're told, do you understand?"

  "I get you, Boss," was the answer. Smith was so disconcerted that he forgot to say "sir".

  Torero had buried his head in his feathers. He could only be heard muttering in muffled sounds to himself. It sounded something like, "Help, the police are coming!" Apparently he had decided to sleep for awhile.

  "If they've landed down there we should be able to spot their ship," said Rex. "At least that won't be made entirely of organic material! The analyzers would indicate it immediately."

  "Right on the beam!" Graybound agreed, secretly glad to have a respite from unwanted thoughts. It was more like a temporary stay of execution. "Let's find that ship first and have a look at it!"

  For the time being the thought of a 'living' planet was shoved into the background although it was not completely forgotten. They were flying along at a low altitude above the surface. On the night side there was a complete darkness below because there was practically no reflection of the starlight, as though it were being almost totally absorbed. But, then the sun came up over the horizon and it was light again. There was no sign of a stra
nded ship.

  The planet was as large as the Earth and had approximately the same strength of gravity. It would be some time before they could cover the entire surface in their search.

  Suddenly Rex straightened up from his momentary state of lethargy. He pointed at the viewscreen. "There...! What the devil is that...?"

  Graybound seemed to awaken from a dream. "Where?"

  "Right in our line of flight! I've cut down the engines so we can move in a slow drift. Do you see it?"

  "What... who? The castaways?"

  Graybound had already made out what Rex was referring to. Down there on the rolling plain, several figures were moving. Perhaps seven or eight of them. Undoubtedly, they were men.

  But something about them wasn't quite right.

  Rex manoeuvred the Lizard directly over the group and cut in the antigravs. Now the ship hovered motionlessly above the men—if indeed they were men.

  It was this that Graybound was beginning to doubt, as a matter of fact. At first his suspicions were vague but then a conviction came after due consideration. The figures showed no reaction whatsoever to the appearance of the ship. If these were the ones who had sent out a distress signal, their present action was certainly

  strange.

  "Get closer!"

  The Lizard lowered toward the group of figures. Graybound didn't take his eyes from them. They had come to a halt.

  It was then that Graybound realized they didn't have any faces.

  4/ ATTACK OF THE MONSTER MEN

  "Lt. Sikhra!"

  The Nepalese came running up at a fast trot. "Sir?"

  Rhodan pointed toward the shadowy figures which were shambling strangely along the dim horizon. They stopped. But a ceaseless milling and swaying of long, apelike arms caused Rhodan to snap: "Take a detail of your men and find out who they are—or what they are."

  "Do you think...?"

  "I haven't any idea about them. I'm only wondering how men can suddenly appear on an uninhabited planet—or something that looks like men. So go take a look. And at the first signs of any attack you are free to open fire."

  Bell was standing next to Rhodan but he waited until Lt. Sikhra had gone before he spoke. "What's going on with you, Perry? So far there's never been a time when you yourself avoided making contact with alien intelligences. Maybe they can help us."

  Rhodan gazed toward the weird group of figures. Then he shook his head and pointed at the ground. "Bell, have you given any thought yet to what that might be? Do you really think we're standing on some kind of stone or granite—or maybe on mud or a slow-action bog? Do you mean to say you didn't notice

  anything peculiar when our space-jet sank?"

  "What was I supposed to notice?"

  Rhodan shook his head in wonderment. lie looked questioningly at Claudrin, who was listening to the conversation with no more comprehension than Bell. "You didn't notice anything either, Colonel?"

  "No—not that I was aware of..."

  Rhodan took a deep breath. "I was the last one to leave the disc as it was sinking and under the hull I noticed a funnel-like formation. It was opening like a giant mouth to swallow the ship. Now understand me correctly, Colonel! The mud or whatever else you want to call it—it pulled back before the weight of the ship could compress it. It pulled back as though it were a voluntary action!"

  The colonel stared at Rhodan, flabbergasted. Bell had straightened up with a start and now was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

  "All of which brought me to a completely insane supposition and I kept it to myself because I didn't want to panic anybody at the time. I know now, however,

  that this morass is alive. It can even think and rationalize. In fact very logically. It swallowed the ship in order to cut us off from any possibility of escape."

  "Perry... come on! That isn't... no! It can't be!" Bell had become pale. The circle of listeners had grown larger. No one was paying any more attention to Sikhra's commando detail.

  "Nevertheless, Bell, it's possible. Later the specialists can give us a more specific answer but for the moment we'll have to be satisfied with the uncanny fact that we've encountered a form of intelligence which is a total conglomeration of every organic cell on this world. It's a kind of giant amoeba. We know from reports from exploring expeditions that such cases have been observed more than once before. Of course the expeditions didn't dare to make a landing but in our case we had no choice."

  "A one-celled animal—so big that it can span a whole planet?" Bell shook his head and stared at the ground in mixed horror and curiosity. "I can't believe it! If it's true, then why doesn't it just gobble us up where we're standing?"

  "You mean, the same as it did the ship?" Rhodan shrugged. "I don't know. And besides..."

  He was interrupted. At the end of their column someone was shouting. Then came the first hiss of energy weapons and the glaring flash of their beams.

  Rhodan pulled his own weapon from his belt and raced away in the direction of the commando group. Some of the pluckier men followed him.

  • • •

  As reported later by Sikhra, when he and his men approached the motionless figures it was clear to see that although they possessed human-like shapes they had nothing else in common with actual men. They were composed of the same material as the planet-sized microbe they were standing on, as though they had been crudely formed out of the surface substance itself. They did not respond to calls or shouts.

  Then Sikhra had turned on a portable lamp and directed its rays toward the alien things. At once, they seemed to come to life! They sprang! Together they moved in a concerted attack upon the humans!

  When the first alien threw its powerful arms around one of the cadets and began to pull him down into the yielding surface, Sikhra had opened fire.

  Rhodan arrived in time to see the helplessly yelling cadet sink deeper into the 'ground'. It would have been useless to shoot at his abductor because it would have also endangered the creature's prey. Now the young commando was up to his chest in the muck. The horrible monstrosity that still clung to him was once more uniting with the grey mass from which it had come. It seemed to flow sluggishly back to its source—and it took its victim with it. His agonizing screams were soon choked off, leaving the small party of humans stunned with shock.

  It was in that moment that Rhodan knew they were all lost if a miracle didn't happen. The planetary monster not only possessed a certain degree of intelligence but also an astonishing imitative instinct. It had looked upon the men as a welcome booty and it had copied their shapes accordingly. It was completely useless to destroy such imitations because they would only be replaced by others—and still more, by the thousands or the millions. If necessary—even billions!

  In spite of this, however, they must not give up the fight. It required a period of time for the monster to replace its plastic images.

  "Pucky!"

  The mouse-beaver teleported to Rhodan's side.

  "There, little one!" Rhodan pointed to the cadet whose head had nearly disappeared, but whose arms were desperately flaying about in his trap. "Pull him out of there—telekinesis! But don't go too close!"

  Pucky understood. He concentrated on his task and sent out streams of force from the telekinetic center of his brain. The force streamers gripped the unfortunate victim without endangering anyone and then began to draw him slowly out of the resisting morass.

  "Sikhra!" Rhodan called to the lieutenant. "Destroy all those figures! They have no individualities of their own, so don't hold back!"

  The five remaining members of the commando detail at once opened up with a murderous fire. Rhodan's words had freed them of any last compunctions. The energy beams caused the grey figures to melt down quite readily. The smoldering, molten masses were swallowed up by the living ground. Heavy wave formations were generated from each of such areas as would happen if one were to drop a stone into water. But these waves were very slow-moving. They rolled sluggishly under
foot as though in a slow-motion film.

  Could the incredible monster sense pain?

  Rhodan didn't know nor did he care. They had to fight back and defend their lives. They were being attacked by a materially superior being. Meanwhile Pucky had managed to free the cadet from his prison. The last of the clinging grey muck dropped away from him and then Pucky set him down again. Whereupon his companions immediately took charge of him.

  "Let's go on!" Rhodan ordered. "We mustn't linger too long in the same place. We can't let the monster have time to form new imitation men. I think it takes him a certain length of time to do it and that's what we have to keep ahead of!"

  As they started their march again, Lt. Sikhra and his men formed the rear guard. They kept looking behind them so that they would be able to see any signs of danger in sufficient time to avoid surprises. They had recovered from the last shock and were now more familiar with what was involved.

  Darkness fell swiftly but their powerful hand lamps lighted their way. However, they might have done just as well without them since the landscape continued unchanged and no obstacles of any nature lay in their path. Rhodan marched at the head of the column along with Bell and Jefe Claudrin. Pucky had joined the other three mutants and was now being carried by Ivan Ivanovich Goratschin, having settled himself comfortably between the giant's two heads. John Marshall and Tama Yokida were conversing in low tones about their remaining life expectancy. Which was the same subject being discussed by Rhodan, Bell and Claudrin.

  "So how do we get out of this?" asked Bell who wasn't particularly fond of their ceaseless walking. "Since the monster covers the planet all we're doing is walking around on it."

  Rhodan nodded. "That figures; but as long as we keep moving it can't find a point of attack. It needs time to shape itself and come at us. So all we can do is keep in motion until somebody rescues us. Old buddy, I don't mind telling you we've never been in such a hopeless situation before."

  "But the monster isn't intelligent in our sense of the word," commented Claudrin, who sought for a ray of hope, however dim. "If he were he'd simply swallow us, marching or not."