by Perry Rhodan
"Good-for-nothings! Dumb heads!" exclaimed Torero in loud agreement, no doubt hoping that this would get him out of his cage.
But Graybound didn't have any time for him. "We'll search some more!" he announced, getting up. "I'll get some sack time for awhile and in two hours we'll switch places."
The First Officer was quite content to be alone for awhile. He cut in the autopilot to hold the ship steady on course and then took over the Captain's observation post. The first thing he overlooked was the rocky promontory to his right on the horizon and the mushroom of smoke beyond it because he was also nodding from weariness. When he finally woke up Graybound, he innocently reported: "Nothing unusual sighted, sir."
Graybound muttered unintelligibly into his big red beard and took over his watch position. So that he wouldn't feel so lonely, he finally took Torero out of his cage. The parrot screeched for joy and made itself comfortable on its master's shoulder. Thus the two of them watched the viewscreen together.
Meanwhile Com Operator Smith had also gotten some sleep. After a hurried bite to eat he again took over his position at the radio controls. He turned on the receiver and checked all available wavebands in the silent hope of picking up a signal. Basically what he hoped for was to be able to demonstrate to his chief how indispensable he was.
And fate finally granted him his wish.
Graybound's barely opened eyes were like two fried eggs as he looked for anything moving down below on the monotonous surface. Suddenly he was torn from his half-slumber by the Com man's precipitate entry into the Control
Central.
"Radio signal, sir! It's voice com, sir—uncoded! They're calling us!"
Graybound rose up so abruptly from his seat that it caused Torero to lose his grip and the bird fluttered to the floor. He ran back and forth while croaking out a sulphurous stream of invectives.
"Voice com!" yelled Graybound incredulously as he pushed past Smith into the radio room. With one kick he knocked the ludicrous little stool out of the way which the delicately-framed Com Operator was accustomed to using. "Where the devil's the mike?"
Smith joined him in some confusion. He had imagined that his moment of triumph would be different than this. Maybe a fatherly pat on the shoulder at least, words of recognition or some kind of praise for his alertness—but nothing!
Instead, Graybound kept yelling, "What I want to know is where the microphone is! How can I find my way around in a bunch of macaroni like this?" Smith didn't have time to deliberate on the question; he hastily manipulated the controls and opened a two-way communication.
Words in English came faintly over the speaker. Graybound had to bring his ear closer to it to understand any of it.
"—passed us by three degrees. Urgently in need of help! Come in, please—but do not land on the regular surface if you value your lives!"
"I know that, you dumb heads!" bellowed Graybound at the top of his voice, once he had located the microphone. "Let's have your position!"
The voice on the loudspeaker was suddenly silenced. Apparently the person at the other end had suffered some kind of shock.
Then another voice was heard—this time calm and self-assured. "Our position is unknown. We're transmitting with a micro-transceiver here. Do you understand me?"
"I've been trying to!" retorted Graybound, now happily malicious. "But just keep on yapping and we'll trace in on you!" He turned swiftly to Smith. "Quick— wake up the First Officer! Tell him to get to the Control Central on the double!" After Smith disappeared he turned back to the mike and took the unknown speaker to task. "Are you the commander of the crashed ship—or did you maybe decide to land of your own choice? If you did, it would serve you right if you were left sitting there, wherever you are!"
It took a few seconds for an answer to come back: "You must be some kind of clown!"
For a moment Graybound was speechless. But when he found his voice again he spoke without reservation. "Why, you conceited ape! You're too dumb to land a ship without crashing and on top of it you come on with the smarts! Now I like that!" He nodded to Rex who had come storming into the adjacent Control Central. "Man, am I waiting to see you!"
"The feeling is mutual," came the reply, with a note of amusement.
Graybound stared in a rage at the microphone but finally he started to grin. He always welcomed the challenge of good repartee—but only up to a point. The minute he sensed the slightest note of superiority in the other he would fly into a
fit.
"Just keep talking, Your Highness. Talk so we can trace you."
"All you need to do," said the stranger, "is to circle the planet at a greater altitude. You'll see a few nuclear mushroom clouds. They mark the location of a granite rise where we were able to save ourselves. The outcropping is free of the plasma."
"Oh, you mean you were able to tell the difference?" marveled Graybound sarcastically. "I thought maybe you'd take the whole thing for a dish of pudding. Very smart—I sure have to hand it to you!" Then he realized what the stranger had said. "Mushroom clouds? How about that? Did you throw atom bombs at the planet?"
"Something like that."
Rex had overheard this conversation, so he took the Lizard to a higher altitude and started his search. A few minutes later he saw the telltale clouds and set a course for them.
"I figure you're the commander of a picket cruiser," continued Graybound. After all he wanted to know who this was so that he could plan what kind of precautions to take. "How many men are with you?"
"Eighty-one. We're not very finicky, so we'd be happy if you'd just find a place for us inside the cargo hatches or in the companionways somewhere."
"Oh no you don't!" objected Graybound, alarmed. "Not in the cargo holds!"
The tone of the stranger's voice remained unaltered. "Oh? And why is that?"
Graybound countered with more bellowing. "I asked you a question and I want an answer! Who are you? What's the name of your ship?"
"We don't have a ship anymore. As to who I am, you will learn that soon enough."
While Graybound digested this impertinence, the Lizard approached the rocky island and hovered motionlessly above it at a height of 100 meters. The viewscreen could be seen easily from the Com Room. Torero had collected himself and flown up to the top of his cage where he sat hunched in speechlessness. He followed everything with his shrewd eyes as though he understood all that was going on in the Control Central. And perhaps he did.
"It'd be good timing to land about now," suggested the voice on the loudspeaker. "It's genuine rock—massive and solid."
Rex Knatterbull pointed to the viewscreen. "That it—land's surrounded by plasma monsters. They keep forming out of the surface and they're marching toward the rocks. If we don't hurry it'll be curtains for those guys!"
"We'll show them what the Lizard can do," returned Graybound, and he spoke into the microphone. "A landing would be too dangerous now. You'd better head for cover—we're going to wipe out those things!"
"They're very slow," came the reply. "By the time they get here you could have lifted us out of here—don't you understand?"
"Oh I understand, alright, but I can't hear you!" roared Graybound. He came into the Control Central. His orders to the men at the gun positions were short and to the point. Then he nodded to Rex. "OK—let loose!"
The Lizard bolted toward the monster army and opened a murderous fire. All guns flashed their ravenous lightnings down at the surface and found their targets. The molten figures sank back into the pools of plasma around them. The ship created a ring of fire around the rocky promontory. From all sides the sluggish
muck began to flow into the craters that were being produced.
"I think that ought to do it," said Rex.
Graybound observed his work of destruction and nodded. "Of course we can't kill off the monster itself with our popguns but at least those conceited idiots down there will have more respect for whom they're dealing with. From now on they'll be a little mo
re polite to me."
In the nearby Com Room Smith was carrying on a conversation with the stranger below. A few snatches of the discussion drifted into the Control Central and reached Graybound's ears. His red beard began to tremble. With a snort that would have done credit to a hippopotamus, he came up out of his seat in high dudgeon. In almost two jumps he was next to Smith, whom he shoved ruthlessly out of the way. This time he located the mike immediately.
"Just save your wind down there, you imitation substitute for a spaceman!" he bellowed indignantly. "From where you're sitting you want to give us some good advice? If you weren't so thick between your ears you'd be someplace else by now. If I had my druthers I'd just as soon pull out and leave you where you are!"
"Fortunately I know that you don't mean that seriously," replied the stranger. He didn't seem to take Graybound's abuses very much to heart. "And now if you will land, please...!"
In a rage, Graybound had to stamp his foot on the deck, but he signaled permission to Knatterbull and then lectured into the mike. "Listen, greenhorn, I'm going to tell you something and you listen good! You don't fool around with old Capt. Sam Graybound and do as you please! So alright, I'm taking you on board my ship because it's the human thing to do, but you're going to stick to the quarters you're assigned to. If I find any of your men snooping around I'll dump them into space, is that clear?"
"Oh quite!" was the amused reply. "Is it that you have something to hide?"
Graybound gasped but he did not have a chance to draw on his stock in trade for a suitable rejoinder. While his First Officer made a gentle landing with the Lizard, the air in the narrow Com Room appeared to shimmer, faintly simulating a whirlwind—and then out of nothingness appeared Pucky the mouse-beaver.
Precisely under Graybound's nose on the narrow console board.
Once more the air went out of the Captain's lungs. He stared incredulously at the 3-foot creature and began to think he was having hallucinations. What happened then, however, soon changed his mind.
In his shrill voice, Pucky launched into a tirade. "You big-mouth red-haired monstrosity! You soulless pirate, you! How can you dare to talk to the Chief that way? You insect—you insignificant flea! You... you nothing!" The hair at the nape of Pucky's neck was standing straight out. His mouse eyes, that usually were so gentle and faithful-looking, now fairly burned with scornful lightnings.
Graybound had drawn back in alarm. His beard trembled in his agitation. This screeching critter on the radio console had to be real, even though he could not explain how he had gotten here. And to top it off, the little beast could talk! It was too much to comprehend.
"Do you have any idea at all who you were talking to all that time? You were talking to Perry Rhodan, the Administrator of the Solar Empire!"
Inside Graybound there was a sense of worlds collapsing like a house of cards—the present, the future, his plans—everything. He was ruined—wiped out—gone! He made no answer. Broken in body and spirit he staggered to the Control Central and sank into his upholstered chair.
"I think I'm having a stroke!" he wailed in desperation. "Can it really be true? I'm dreaming—that's it, a nightmare! It just can't be so! Perry Rhodan—of all people in the galaxy!"
"That's right—just him of all people!" confirmed Pucky. He jumped from the console top and waddled gravely into the Control Central, where he drew himself up before Graybound.
Meanwhile, Rex had been too busy with the landing to be disturbed, but now he shut off the engines and observed the mouse-beaver in obvious wonderment.
"Looks like you just played the wrong number."
"That lousy no-good Smith!" exclaimed Graybound, seeking to shift the blame.
"Where is he, anyhow?"
There was a choked sound of moaning under the navigation chart table. Then a voice whispered, "I don't feel very well, sir. All the excitement..."
"Yellow belly!" thundered Graybound, but he quickly changed the subject. He
studied Pucky carefully. "How did you get on board?"
"Teleportation, my good man. Haven't you ever heard of Pucky? That's me!"
Graybound grasped his beard. "Good Lord! Pucky! Then you're the little freak who..."
"I beg your pardon?" said Pucky warily.
"Nothing," Graybound answered evasively. Meanwhile he had calmed himself down to some extent and was searching for a coverup, both for himself and his cargo. "We'll just have a look to see what we can do." He got up. "Rex, you take charge and get one of the holds cleared out. The teddybears can be put in lock 7. I think with bedrolls on the deck in there we can fix up a place for them. And for Rhodan and his officers... Hm-m-m..." He fell to pondering once more.
Pucky grinned knowingly. He was already aware of the problems the old red beard was wrestling with. Of course the skipper forgot to realize that there was also such a thing as telepathy. But it was just as well.
As Rex went out of the room, Graybound bent down and stroked the back of the mouse-beaver's neck. "So you're the famous Pucky I've heard so much about. You must be real smart and brave. It's an honor to meet you. Come on, let's go. The Chief is waiting."
It was with very mixed feelings that he stepped into the corridor that led to the airlock. If he could stall for just a half hour it might work. By then Rex would have made a place for the castaways. Then the rest of the holds were shut off and would remain so. Nobody would get suspicious.
He left all bulkhead doors open behind him because the air of the planet was quite good. Holding Pucky by the hand he walked past some of his crewmen. They could only stare after him, their mouths agape. It took him some minutes to realize why. The mouse-beaver had vanished and there he was with his arm hanging out and strutting along the passageway like an ape. The men must have thought he'd flipped his lid or that he was trying to invent a new dance.
Or both.
50 ADVENTURES FROM NOW Hark to the
Signals from Eternity
6/ A TRUMP FOR THE TRAMP
"Of course you will have this impudent fellow placed under arrest immediately, sir?" asked Col. Claudrin. He was supported by the confirming nods of Bell and Maj. Krefenbac who stood beside him. "It's a clear case of insult to the Head of State."
Rhodan smiled and shook his head. "But my dear Claudrin, who wants to get so upset about it? Our good friend Graybound didn't know with whom he was speaking. Besides, you know, he may have a good point. We should have really examined this planet more thoroughly before we made a landing. In fact we did not perform as very experienced spacemen."
Claudrin drew up his bulky frame. "Whatever you say, sir. It was only a passing question."
They watched while the Lizard touched down expertly within a hundred meters of their position. Then the antiquated engines shut off and the sudden silence following the thundering demonstration was almost painful.
"But he ought to get his ears knocked back a little," muttered Bell. "Nobody can get away with calling us idiots!"
"Pucky is with him," said Rhodan, "and I'm sure what he has to say will be enough for anybody's ears. However, we shouldn't forget that if it weren't for Capt. Graybound we'd be sitting here 10 years from now. It appears that he's the only one who picked up our distress signal. Therefore, we owe him our lives."
Bell made no reply. He finally saw the other side of the coin. People who came to save your life might be entitled to a few impertinences.
The guard details were still posted around the island but so far no new monster men had taken shape. Had the plasma creature given up the fight or was it hoping that the other ship's skipper would also be stupid enough to land on its surface? Perhaps they would never know the answer.
Pucky materialized beside Rhodan. "There's some new developments," he whispered surreptitiously. "That old pirate isn't so innocent..."
"I thought as much," answered Rhodan in an equally low voice. His telepathy was good enough to be able to receive Pucky's thoughts. So by the time Capt. Graybound appeared in the opening ha
tch of the Lizard and stared down at Rhodan, the wily space tramp was exposed without knowing it.
It was a good thing that his crew couldn't see their blustering captain now because he had apparently blustered his last. With a nimbleness that was surprising to the onlookers, he swung down the ladder and took a deep breath— then strode across to Rhodan.
"My ship is at your disposal, sir," he murmured when he came up to him. He took the Administrator's hand and pressed it powerfully. "My men are just getting a few cabins ready for you. May I ask why you landed here on this desolate world? Where did you leave your ship?"
"It exploded in space—about three light-years from here. We landed in a scoutship but it sank. Then we took flight and found this island. That's about the gist of it."
"Oh?" Graybound exhibited every sign of embarrassment. "Then you didn't land here by choice? In that case I'll have to retract everything I said to you before."
"Forget it," smiled Rhodan.
But then he was distracted by some searing curses emanating from the Lizard's open airlock. Something in brilliant technicolor came fluttering through the air and landed right on Graybound's shoulder. Torero had finally located his master.
"You old swindler! You dumb ninny!" he scolded at Rhodan who had leaned forward to look at him with interest. "What do you say now?"
Bell's eyes and mouth were all wide open at once but he finally caught his breath again. "This is too much!" he groaned as though defeated. "He also has a pet bird!"
Graybound was torn between anger and embarrassment so he decided on a compromise between the two. "He's a smart bird even if he gets fresh sometimes. Naturally he doesn't know you, Mr. Rhodan."
Suddenly everybody became very quiet because of Pucky. The mouse-beaver had never seen a parrot before in his life and most certainly not one that could speak and then dare to refer to the Administrator of the Solar Imperium as a swindler and a dumb ninny. Pucky's mouth was slightly agape. His single incisor tooth seemed to lend a melancholy expression to him and it was so strange that even Bell refrained from laughing. It was only Torero who seemed ready to make