Mutants Vs Mutants
Page 3
Rhodan had realized this soon enough. He sent out a special search commando to all parts of the world, especially to Japan where the first atom bomb had been detonated. It took only a few months till the mutant corps of the New Power organized. This corps formed the backbone of Rhodan's pacifistic forces.
John Marshall was one of these mutants. Thanks to his telepathic gift he made unnecessary any further reliance on even the best lie detector. No thought remained hidden from his probing mind and he had found out that he could communicate even with extraterrestrial beings.
The prisoner, however, was just a normal human being—at least this was the impression he gave. When John Marshall tried to penetrate his thoughts he met no obstacle. But all he encountered were merely superficial thoughts.
"Who gave you the order to attack the training ship Z-82?" asked John Marshall and gazed into the mulatto's eyes.
Bell was standing next to Marshall, trying to put on especially grim airs. But the prisoner seemed not to notice. He started to give an answer but something prevented him from uttering a single word. Evidently he wanted to reply but was unable to do so.
Ishy Matsu, the Japanese girl telepath, had concentrated more intensely because she was expecting some difficulties. "He has a hypno-block," she whispered. "His memories seem to be imbedded in a kind of a hypnotic energy field. We cannot pierce it."
"How about applying a counter-block?" suggested Bell.
Ishy shook her head. "I doubt it'll work but we can always try. André Noir would be the right person for this task."
Noir, a Frenchman, born in Japan, entered the room a few minutes later. He stopped near the door. He regarded the prisoner in an inconspicuous manner. Noir was the so called 'hypno' of the mutant corps. He was capable of penetrating effortlessly into the consciousness of every living creature and to bring it under his will. No one would have suspected that this man, who looked so easy-going, was the most powerful hypnotist in the world. So far he had proven to be infallible.
André Noir approached slowly. His eyes were fixed on the prisoner's face. Without looking at Marshall or Bell he said: "You may tell us your name without fear for you are here among friends. Also give us the name of the person who charged you with this mission. I know you are being forced to act via hypnotic compulsion but you must help me to remove this force, otherwise you'll never be a free man again."
"I'd rather live and be subjected to this force than not live at all," said the prisoner, hesitating. Everybody present felt clearly that these words were put in his mouth by someone else.
"It's better to live as a free man," said Noir with emphasis.
The prisoner did not react in response to his command. Noir applied his tremendous mind powers to crack and shatter the ring an unknown person had placed around the conscious mind of the mulatto. John Marshall and Bell waited, silently. The tiny, delicate Japanese girl's face looked like a mask: she was capable of following the procedure in all details. Almost unnoticed someone else had entered the half-darkened room. He remained near the door.
Perry Rhodan.
And then the block was broken. The prisoner suddenly opened his eyes wide, stared at the man across the room from him, seemed totally bewildered and began to utter sounds.
At first incomprehensible, the sounds tumbled over his lips, hastily, as if uttered in terrible fear. And then suddenly he spoke English: "...attack everything and destroy it... hatred, horrible hatred... to rule the world... mutants... me too... the mutant master..."
"Who is the mutant master?" shouted Rhodan from the door. He stepped closer and peered into the prisoner's eyes. Noir desperately shook his head and raised his arm imploringly as if he were trying to hold back Perry Rhodan.
"The mutant master..." stammered the prisoner. "The supermutant is..."
His face changed with frightening speed. The prisoner seemed to perceive something horrifying and inconceivable A pain visibly raced through his body. His legs gave slowly under him Rhodan leapt to his side, trying to catch him. Marshall, too, attempted to help. André Noir, however did nothing of the sort; he merely retreated a few steps.
"It's too late," Noir murmured. "The hypno-block was far too powerful. But he wasn't killed by the hypno-block. He simply was obeying an overpowering hypnotic command."
They laid the stilled figure of the mulatto on a couch. John Marshall bent over in order to examine him.
"A hypnotic command?" asked Rhodan and looked at Noir. "Who gave him that command?"
"That I couldn't say but I'd guess it came from the mutant master."
"And what kind of an order would he have issued to that poor fellow?"
"To die! He simply ordered him to die on the spot. And our prisoner obeyed."
"Is that possible?"
The Frenchman's face grew sombre. "I believe I've found my match. The unknown supermutant has outdistanced me by far.
And without waiting for a reply, Noir left the room. Bell, who had been standing the while very quietly in a corner of the room, now walked over to Perry Rhodan. "Once again that mutant master! Now we have additional proof. He is a monster! He's murdered two people within the last two hours: first Captain Hawk and now one of his own men."
"He's giving orders to those mutants that he has in his power," said Marshall. "The instant our prisoner was dying I managed to penetrate his mind for just a second. He was a weak mutant and had a photographic memory. This enabled him to fly the destroyer all alone. I'm sure he could have told us quite a few things of interest."
"Right," agreed Rhodan. "That's exactly why he had to die." He frowned and looked at Marshall. "Couldn't you determine from which direction the hypnotic influence originated?"
"From which direction? What do you mean by that?"
"Well, if this supermutant kept our prisoner under personal surveillance, then his hypno impulses must have come from the same direction. I hoped you'd be able to tell me."
"Noir was puzzled by exactly the same question when he left the room. He wondered why the impulses were coming from two directions. Exactly from the west and the east."
Rhodan seemed startled by this revelation. "Simultaneously from two directions? Odd! But maybe not that strange after all—the Earth is round. But I could have bet that they were coming from one and the same direction: above. Or is Mars still below the horizon?"
John Marshall didn't say a word. He kept following Rhodan with his eyes as the latter left the room.
Bell pointed to the motionless figure lying on the couch. "So he's dead?"
"Yes," said Marshall softly.
2/ "I HAVE MET THE SUPERMUTANT"
Lieutenant Becker was in charge of the East border station. It consisted of 10 observation posts positioned at regular short intervals and equipped with Arkonide neutron cannons. These stations were manned at all times. The border guards had their quarters on flat terrain. A small movie house, a bar and a swimming pool were the only diversions for the men out here in this isolated spot.
Sergeant Harras and his men had just returned to their base from their period of guard duty. Harras had dismissed the men, who were now off duty for eight hours. By the time they would have to report to their posts again it would already be dark.
It was a very hot day, the sun seemingly burning everything to a crisp. Not a cloud was to be seen in the sky. Harras couldn't think of anything better than to get out of his sweaty uniform as fast as possible and take a running jump in the swimming pool. He planned to stay in the cool water until hunger would force him out and he'd stroll over to the cafeteria for a hearty meal.
He put on his swim trunks and left the room which he shared with two other sergeants, strolled across the lawn and stopped at the edge of the swimming pool. He breathed the vitalizing scent of the water in which some 30 men were frolicking about, apparently forgetting that in reality they were here in the middle of a desert. They jostled and joked with each other and didn't spare Harras either.
"You afraid?" somebody close by holl
ered and hit the surface of the water so skilfully with the flat of his hand that Harras was showered by a sudden water spout. "Get in, get in! what are you waiting for in that hot sun!"
Sergeant Harras hesitated. Just one second ago he had looked forward to jumping right into the cool water. But now something held him back. Still, his desire to cool off in the water was stronger than all vague dark fears. He advanced one step and leapt into the water.
"The pool is running over!" called somebody in mock horror. Harras couldn't hear it. He let himself drift down to the bottom of the pool and was glad not to have to hear any more intruding voices. For a moment he felt grateful to fate for this brief solitude.
Strange desires and thoughts began to possess him and tuned out his normal ego. Somewhere in his head he felt a peculiar pressure. He had palpitations of the heart. Maybe he was holding his breath too long?
He kicked his legs against the bottom of the pool and rose to the surface. He looked around the swimming pool and what he saw seemed to confirm his dark and incomprehensible feelings of foreboding. All his comrades were eagerly swimming toward the edge of the basin and scrambling on land. Nobody spoke a word and it was as if they all had received a command during the short time he had been submerged in the water. And the command must have told them to get out of the water immediately.
Over on the other side, at the exit door of the barracks, Lieutenant Becker came into view. He was waving both his arms and shouting something. Harras could not understand what he was saying. Nevertheless he knew what Becker had called out: "Alarm! Report immediately! Battle gear!"
Sergeant Harras ran to his room, quickly put back on his uniform, made sure he had his hand raygun and rushed to the exercise yard. Half the company was already assembled there. From the direction of the boundary station they could see some caterpillar track vehicles approaching. Harras was dumbfounded to see that they had removed the neutron ray cannons from the gun emplacements at the border. They had been mounted instead on the vehicles. That meant the border was left without protection. Perhaps the worker robots might take over guard duty from now on.
Lieutenant Becker apparently wasn't worried at all that his platoons had not reported to a man. He seemed to be extremely nervous and fidgety and kept urging his rank and file to hurry up. Hardly had the 10 armored tanks lined up in formation than he gave the signal to leave.
Sergeant Harras had an uneasy feeling that something wasn't the way it was supposed to be but he couldn't pull himself together sufficiently to systematically think about the latest events. The pressure in his head had not diminished; on the contrary it had become worse. Something indefinable forced him to set himself in motion.
Lieutenant Becker's column advanced toward the spaceship assembly halls and hangars of the New Power which were located about one mile away inside the actual barred area. Their barrels lowered, the neutron ray cannons led the column. The gunners sat at the controls, ready to shoot.
For a fleeting moment Harras intended to ask his neighbor what actually had taken place but when he saw the man's pencil-thin lips he dismissed the thought. Something horrible must have happened.
But no, that was sheer nonsense what they were doing...
His attention was diverted at this point. From the direction of the hangars came three vehicles trailed by a dense dust cloud. They came to a halt and some fighter robots of the Arkonide type got out of the cars.
Reinforcements, thought Harras, relieved yet with alarm. Like the rest of the soldiers he had in the meantime gotten used to regarding these perfect machine-men as allies and friends. They were united in their task to provide protection for the New Power and to ward off any potential attackers.
Now Lieutenant Becker did something totally incomprehensible: he ordered his men to destroy the robots. The vehicles with the mounted neutron-cannons formed a semi-circle in whose focus the robots were standing.
Harras could not manage to draw his hand weapon. He realized that Becker had issued a completely irrational command but didn't have the strength to oppose him. He remained passive and that was all he could do. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see that several of the soldiers seemed to share his feelings. They hesitated to carry out Becker's command.
But that's outright mutiny, thought Harras horrified. Mutiny against Perry Rhodan and the Arkonides. Mutiny against the almighty robot army.
The first cannon spat out a ray of concentrated energy against the unsuspecting robots and thus opened the senseless battle. Four out of a total of nine robot fighters sank half-molten into the broiling desert sand and lay there unmoving. The other five reacted with lightning speed, for machines equipped with positronic thought processes have no reaction lag due to fright like mere human beings.
They were being attacked and it didn't matter by whom. Their left arms rose from their sides and assumed a horizontal position. From inside the robots came a slight clicking sound from a relay, clearing an emergency switch which gave them permission to fire on human beings. Their left arms had thus been transformed into formidable miniature ray cannons.
Before Becker's cannons could fire the second round they were hit by the energy showers of the firing robots. Two barrels of Becker's cannons began to droop as if they had turned into soft wax, while a third cannon melted entirely in a shower of sparks.
The rest of Becker's cannons were outside the destruction range. Despite their fast reaction the robots nevertheless had no chance. They were annihilated before they could even whirl around.
Lieutenant Becker drew his own raygun and walked over to the three waiting cars. The three drivers awaited him with faces devoid of any expression. They made no attempt to come to the assistance of their robots.
"You are now under my command!" snapped Becker. The three drivers came to attention, while sitting behind their wheels; they saluted like one man.
Sergeant Harras was standing in the background. He hadn't understood what was going on there but he realized that something terrible was taking place in front of his eyes. Becker must suddenly have lost his mind. But how about himself? Why did he obey these obviously senseless orders? what forced him to do so?
This agonizing headache! It didn't stop. Maybe it was because of the unbearable heat? The sun was standing almost vertically above their heads, sending streams of fire down onto the desert. The nearby hangars and assembly halls were wavering in the heated air.
And then it was as if gentle fingers were groping for his brain and probing around in it. All of a sudden the invisible fingers were no longer gentle but demanding and commanding. They swept aside his will and suspended his normal thought processes.
Like the rest of his group he started to move again, past the still figures of the robots lying on the sand and the disabled, battered, armored tanks.
Over at the spaceship docks and hangars he noticed a commotion. Heavily armed men were streaming forth from their pill-boxes. A turbo-car came racing from the right and stopped in front of a building. One of the men carried something in his hand, a small oblong box.
Lieutenant Becker raised his arm. "Extend your lines! We're attacking the spaceship docks!"
Automatically Sergeant Harras drew his weapon.
• • •
Perry Rhodan looked up as someone pushed open the door and rushed into his room. It was his friend Reginald Bell but he could hardly recognize him. He had never before seen him in such a state. His hair was disheveled and his usual ruddy color had. given way to a deadly pallor.
His eyes were flashing restlessly and Rhodan was amazed to see his friend's hands tremble.
"Did you run into the devil?" Rhodan asked astonished.
"He'll soon be here," countered Bell, trying to catch his breath. "All hell has broken loose. Two guard platoons under Lieutenant Becker's command are attacking our spaceship installations!"
"What did you say?" Rhodan couldn't believe his ears and was beginning to doubt Bell's sanity. "Becker is attacking the docks? If that's your idea
of a joke you've gone too far this time, Reg!"
"No, Perry, it's true! People have gone stark staring mad! I'm sure this is another example of that unknown supermutant's work."
"The mutant master?" murmured Rhodan, slowly. rising from his seat. "What's going on? What exactly has happened?"
"Just a few seconds ago I got the alarm signal from sector seven. Becker and his men are advancing toward docks and have already destroyed nine fighter robots. Our defense posts have been alerted and are ready for action. They are awaiting further orders. what are they to do in case Becker actually attacks? That guy has gone crazy!"
Rhodan had a sudden vision of the dying mulatto, who had willed himself to death while obeying the command of the mighty unknown mutant master. If this supermutant was capable of accomplishing this then it wouldn't be surprising if he'd order an entire company to commit suicide.
Fear surged through him. He suddenly realized what might happen if this menacing mutant actually possessed such unbelievable powers. Compared to this the extrasensory abilities of his own mutant corps must seem some ineffective trifling nuisance. Rhodan was overcome by the sudden realization that here he was facing an equally strong, if not superior enemy, who could annihilate him if he was clever enough.
"We can't waste any time now," Bell urged. "The men are waiting for our instructions. It won't be easy for them to shoot at their own friends, even if they have suddenly gone crazy."
"We'll go there ourselves," Rhodan decided. "Get a psycho raygun and a small gravity neutralizer. Hurry up I'll wait for you outside in my car."
Bell whirled around without a word and got cracking. Two minutes later, when Rhodan reached his car, Bell was already there waiting for him. In his left hand he held a small metal box, which did not seem to be too heavy. He clasped a silvery rod in is right hand.