by Perry Rhodan
"Sir," said Sengu again, "I can’t identify any apparatus inside that sphere that would be capable of generating a time-field. But there are so many unknown pieces of equipment in there that I can’t completely eliminate the possibility."
"Strange ... " muttered Rhodan.
"Now what have you discovered, Perry?" asked the Arkonide.
"Only Sengu’s faculties seem able to do something with that Akon screen where the other mutants are helpless. It’s made me think of something. We all seem to forget that a transmitter station is working somewhere to generate that arc in there. That could be a clue to the possibility that what’s building this time-field may be something like the gigantic power plants that once generated the screen around the Blue System. A linear space-drive would be able to get to these eight Akons—but aside from our time factor it would he impossible to set up such equipment here... My God! ... Marshall, go out to the scientists! I need every frequency specialist! Why didn’t any of us hit upon something so basic? We have to see if we can determine the transmitter’s frequency!"
John Marshall had already vanished beyond the optical barrier to give the message to the waiting specialists.
Perry was distracted from his train of thought by a sudden interruption by Atlan. "Perry—I believe the robot Brain could handle that problem better and faster than your scientists!"
It was than that the Coordinator revealed it had been listening to every word. They suddenly heard its ringing voice, which was as inhumanly unemotional as ever: "You will have the transmitter’s frequency within 1 minute."
Rhodan was slightly vexed at himself. "Atlan, none of us have been seeing the forest because of the trees! I’m going to make an experiment to find out if those Akons in there can see us as easily as we can see them."
"And how do you propose going about it?" asked Atlan apprehensively.
"With this," said Rhodan as he showed him his impulse blaster.
5/ A BLINDING FLASH, A DEAFENING REPORT—AND SUDDEN DEATH
For more than three hours Joe Luklein had been observing the lone bungalow on the outskirts of Gilkar although no one had appeared either in the house or on the terrace. In fact the place gave the impression of being deserted. But Joe was not to be taken in by the ruse.
That day around noon when he had been sitting in the shade of the tavern, the aircar he had seen take off toward Renl had risen from here. Also, the large plastic runway next to the terrace was 50 meters by 50, which was an item of note. As a landing and takeoff ramp it might have been only half that size to be ample for aircars and similar personal vehicles. And the infra-red security system he had discovered at the last moment while scouting the area wasn’t exactly the type of thing one would find around an everyday bungalow containing harmless residents.
Joe noted with satisfaction that it was growing dark. Completely hidden by a bush, he was just thinking of the supposed presence of Antis in Hoga’s vicinity when he was startled by the sound of footsteps. Instinctively he gripped his shock-weapon and carefully pushed a branch aside so that he could look in the direction of the barely audible sound.
Through the small gap in the foliage he saw a man who was looking about him sharply while making his way toward the apparently deserted bungalow. The daylight was now so faint that Joe didn’t recognize him at first—but finally he knew who it was: it was none other than the famed Dr. Loun Tatanoon who now stepped to the door of the bungalow. The door opened and he quickly disappeared inside the house, which again appeared to be deserted.
Luklein let the branch fall back in place and continued to wait. Impatient fretting was not a part of his nature. While night fell on the planet Trum, he sent out his required hypercom signal two more times. It was the only link of communication he had with his superiors. He knew that his hypercom frequency was being monitored by a robot in one of the many relay stations somewhere in star cluster M-13. If three hours went by without his tracer beep being received there, the robot’s programming would, cause it to send out an alarm, whereupon a special commando from Intelligence would be sent out to save him in literally the very last second. But many such cases in the past had proved that the final second had often been missed and all the would-be rescuer had left to report was the death of his colleague.
In his lone hiding place, Joe Luklein reflected that HQ had given him a very "heavy" assignment.
He was just about to change his position because his foot was threatening to go to sleep on him but he paused as he heard the rising whine of an impulse engine. The sound grew louder from one moment to the next. Joe listened carefully and was quite sure that the craft was overhead by now. Then he heard it lowering toward a precision landing. When he looked across toward the plastic runway he couldn’t make out a single field or signal light.
Infra-red system, he thought to himself, as the flier settled with a faint grating sound and the engine was suddenly silenced. He could hear three men getting out of the craft. Their footsteps approached the house and then he thought he heard a door closing. In the next moment he was again surrounded by silence.
While he had been here hiding, his opponents had increased by four more. Luklein had the uneasy feeling that his assignment was becoming riskier all the time. But now the training came to the surface that he had received from Solar Intelligence before they ever gave him his first assignment. He blocked out his emotions so that only logic could speak.
Soundlessly he left his hiding place and once more checked in all directions. Then he moved like a shadow over the well-kept lawn, being doubly careful to bypass the infra-red beams as he went. Five minutes later he reached the wall of the bungalow.
In a pocket of his concealed combat suit was a super sensitive listening device with an extra high-powered amplifier, both items being the finest product of Swoon micro-technology. He pressed the pickup mike against the wall at eye level and it held there. He took the thin cord with its connecting jack and guided it to the proper contact with the amplifier under his clothing. After that, all that was necessary was to attach the little earphone to his ear. The field-modulation membrane reproduced the voices inside with clear audibility. He even heard his name mentioned. Evidently they’d been searching for him in Gilkar since he had left the inn. And he heard another name that was very familiar: Offre—Market Research head in his shipping office! Apparently he had worked as a contact man for Solar Intelligence as well as for the Thekus group.
Again he heard his name mentioned and the comments that went with it: "Right after Luklein received that Terran music on his hypercom he disappeared without a trace. Outside the system, that Springer who spilled the kafok on Tatanoon—he must have been Luklein! But where is he now? He just couldn’t have vanished into the ground!"
Another voice spoke emphatically: "Our infra-red system is intact but so far there’s been no alarm. So he can’t be around here ... "
"You fool!" bellowed a third voice. "Don’t you know the Terrans by now? They’re more dangerous than a secret Ara plague! Where are Drakont, Ezruk and Pinti?"
"They’re waiting outside, Hoga."
Listening to all this, Luklein was silently elated.
"Bring them in—and you stay here. I’m not interested in having to deliver a message from Carba twice. Tell everybody to come in here—without exception!" This was Hoga’s voice again.
Luklein figured there could be nothing more convenient for him than to have all the occupants of the bungalow in one room. His chances for coming out of this dangerous gig successfully were getting better.
He heard somebody protesting: "But,Hoga, we can’t pull in all the guards!"
"We can!" shouted Hoga in evident agitation. "That Terran isn’t going to he showing up precisely in the next 10 minutes. Besides, is Gisfe on guard in the aircar or isn’t he?"
At his outside listening post, Luklein tensed. Then the aircraft the three men had arrived in contained a fourth occupant! And here he was standing against the wall of the house within less than 40 mete
rs of the ship! In spite of the perilous situation, Joe made his decision. Hoga’s order for everyone to gather into one room of the bungalow forced him to it.
He swiftly dismantled his little high-powered monitoring station. The mike and the headphone went into his pocket and he again became a soundless shadow. He had to get past the entrance door into the house. On the basis of experience, house doors were usually the least formidable link in any private security setup.
By the time he reached the door he heard the sound of heavy footsteps inside the house. Two men were clattering down a staircase-evidently guards who had been posted at attic windows. Joe used a micro-sensor and scanned the front door for energy sources. The little gauge was so dimly lighted that he couldn’t see the indicator needle until he brought his face within inches of it.
There—an output!
Type 3/C catch. It worked on a magnetic lightbeam basis. This was a simple obstacle which he could handle with his electronic "pass-key"—a universal locksmith and burglar tool. But another kind of lock was next to the door on the left side. Luklein frowned when he read the sensor and recognized the kind of security-barrier it indicated. The "pass-key" was powerless against it. It would not respond to a mechanism operating on hypercom wavelengths.
He made an exact measurement of where this "hyperlock" was located. He already had a plan in mind as to how to get rid of this new obstacle but he also realized the risk it would involve. Nevertheless he did not hesitate for a moment.
He pulled out his thermo-weapon and set it for maximum intensity. Then he aimed the muzzle of the beamer at the area he had located. In about 1 millisecond the shot would vaporize the plastic material of the wall along with the hyperlock device hidden inside.
He pressed the trigger.
There was a split-second hissing sound, an incredibly hot flash of energy, followed by a dull plopping noise, Then a frying and crackling of molten plastic as it cooled and hardened around the edges of a hole that was about one foot wide. Those edges were still glowing red-hot, throwing light about three feet out from the house. If the pilot in the parked air vehicle didn’t happen to be dozing now he would have to be alerted by this.
But Luklein was lucky. The pilot actually did seem to be asleep. Luklein was able to proceed unmolested with his "pass-key" and release the lightbeam catch. Then all he had to take care of was the normal night-latch. It was the third and last obstacle.
He had not spent two minutes on the door before it opened silently. But he held it only slightly ajar before entering, as he waited and listened. In a room to his left be heard Hoga’s voice. The Arkonide was talking about planet Zero where Carba’s headquarters was supposed to be located.
Luklein was mindful of his assignment now, which was to attempt to capture Hoga unharmed. But just then something rattled somewhere off to his right. This was followed by a heavy stamping of footsteps which caused the very house to tremble. Joe broke out in a sweat. Here be was not only up against men but a robot as well—and the thing must have detected him. The metal monster was coming from somewhere inside the bungalow and was about to reach the entrance vestibule.
By now Luklein had entered. He quickly activated his deflector field. Although this would make him invisible even to a robot, it made him dangerously perceptible to any chance energy sensor.
The robot’s movements had alerted the others. A door flew open and light flooded into the foyer. Arkonides came running out of the other room but at a glance Luklein also detected Antis among them. A door opened on the opposite side and a robot came to a stop on the threshold. Joe saw its optical lens system swinging his way. There was a clamor and and a blur of movement and sound—commands, cries of panic, shouted questions and a surge of bodies. In seconds the vestibule room was swarming with the enemy. Three men came between Luklein and the robot, thus temporarily blocking the machine’s sensor beams.
One of the Arkonides discovered the hole in the plastic wall next to the door. Another bumped into Joe’s deflector screen and was repulsed by it. Three Antis realized what he had struck. They drew their deadly weapons and fired.
But they fired at a blank wall because Joe had jumped to safety in another direction. Then the front door banged open again and the aircar pilot came storming in. The shouts of alarm had attracted him into the fray. Luklein himself came within a hair of yelling aloud when he saw the bomb the pilot held in his hand.
"Out!" he heard Hoga shout in sudden consternation. "The robot doesn’t have your I.D.!"
But the warning came too late.
The robot raised two deadly rayguns and fired at the pilot. For the fraction of a second, Luklein saw two bluish energy beams. Then he was enveloped in a blinding glare. The heat from the football-sized thermo-bomb did not register on his senses. An impulse beam from the robot must have triggered the deadly device.
As a brilliant white jet of flame shot into the night with a clap of thunder, blasting the peaceful silence of rural Gilkar, there was one less bungalow on the settlement’s outskirts. The structure had been vaporized and the glowing remains left no trace behind which might have explained the cause of the catastrophe.
Somewhere in the personnel files of Solar Intelligence, a cross-mark was placed after Joe Luklein’s name. A positronicomputer had attended to this detail without giving it a second thought. But Joe’s parents and a few friends mourned his passing.
6/ "THE BRAIN IS MAD!"
The impulse beam from Perry Rhodan’s hand weapon splattered ineffectually against the spherical time-screen. The quietly working Akons inside the barrier looked up suddenly in alarm, however, to see that the portal was standing half open.
Atlan had expressed. his misgivings about this attempt by Rhodan but had not found a willing ear. "You’re placing too much at stake with that, Perry!" he had warned Rhodan had rejected the warning with a shake of his head.
The beam had been playing against the energy field, spraying out as if it were a stream of water striking a wall. The Akons had come to a stop in their work, watching the display in surprise. But their astonished expressions were soon replaced by sneers of gloating triumph.
When Perry saw that this was their reaction he turned off the impulse beam and continued to observe the strangers while half-concealed by the portal. The Akons turned back to their work as if nothing had happened. No one had even made an attempt to reach for a weapon or to answer the impulse fire. For Rhodan it was proof enough that the Akons felt absolutely secure behind the spherical screen and it was also the final proof for him that the field was some kind of time-warp.
When he closed the heavy door of the portal it signified that an important phase of their action had been concluded. He turned to his colleagues and looked at each of them in turn. All remained silent including the scientists whom Marshall had brought forward through the optical barrier.
"Gentlemen," he began, "using traditional methods will get us nowhere in this situation. We have to transfer completely to Akon technology and I hope..."
The robot Brain interrupted him. It announced the sending frequency of the Akon transmitter and also confirmed that it was actively in a receiving mode.
But before the positronicon could cut off, Rhodan shouted back. "Is it possible for my teleporters to jump to the Ironduke?"
Unimpressed, the giant Brain asked a counter-question: "How much time will be required, Rhodan?"
From past experience Rhodan knew how long it should take Pucky and Ras Tschubai to teleport 18 men back to the linear ship. "Ten minutes by standard time, Coordinator."
"Countdown as of now, Rhodan. Both honeycomb screen are inactive. That is all!"
Both teleporters knew they had no time to lose. Not even waiting for Rhodan’s command, they took action but with controlled precision. Before the two high-frequency specialists knew what was happening to them they felt a mutant grip around them. There was a brief sensation of pain and then they were startled to find themselves back once more in the Command Central of the Ironduke.
In a strangely shimmering mass of air before them they saw the teleporters disappear again.
Ras Tschubai and the mouse-beaver kept teleporting like high-precision machines. By the end of the 8th minute they had brought the last two men, Atlan and Rhodan, back on board the linear-drive-warship The unexpected invasion of the commando team in the Control Central had precipitated some confusion. The officers not only took it as a sign of failure for the operation but even thought that Rhodan and his men had been driven from the Brain by some threat of terrible danger. Nor did the Chief’s next order help to clear up the situation. He ordered Ras and Pucky to go fetch 8 space combat suits. "That includes yours, Pucky!" Rhodan called after the little fellow just as he was about to jump.
Next he picked up the intercom mike. "Transmitter station! This is the Chief! Adjust the transmitter to the following frequency but check your adjustments at least three times. The parameters are as follows..." His phenomenal memory had enabled him to retain the complicated frequency data and he read it off automatically. Then he asked it to be read back to him.
It came, and so did Pucky from one of his shorter teleportations. He dropped two spacesuits on the deck and vanished again. Ras Tschubai appeared with another three suits. The men were still struggling into the heavy rigs when the mouse-beaver popped into view a second time. As a windup Pucky had brought Rhodan’s suit and his own.
The intercom buzzed. The officer in the transmitter station announced that his adjustments had been made.
"Don’t switch to transmission yet!" returned Rhodan. "Just keep it warmed up and on standby!" He carefully checked out the systems of his suit and then turned to Atlan. "Please get in touch with the Brain. If it wants to warn us of any danger we can be reached on hyperband F-847. Put out a general alarm for all ships on Arkon 3. All engines should be on standby for emergency takeoff. Any questions, Atlan?"
Although the Arkonide had come to be on the receiving end of the orders it was by no means degrading to him. The situation quite simply demanded it and he knew that he could put his trust in Perry Rhodan. "No questions, Chief!" Atlan replied with a fleeting smile.