Dimension Search

by Perry Rhodan

  MAY DAY! MAY DAY!

  1 MAY 2042–this is the deadline by which Perry Rhodan and Reginald Bell must be treated to a life-preserving cell-shower by the physiotron of the artificial planet Wanderer–

  Or else!

  Else, without the biological rejuvenation good 62 years, perish miserably.

  An ignominious finale for the far-flung plans of the Peacelord, devoutly to be avoided.

  But Wanderer has disappeared!

  The planet that promises perpetual youth, that is the only salvation for Rhodan and Bell, has vanished from the spaceways! Is gone from its orbit!

  If it is nowhere to be found in this dimension, the only answer must lie in another. That answer is the reason for—

  DIMENSION SEARCH

  1/ LOST WORLD

  THEIR VERY LIVES, from this moment on into an indefinite future, might very well depend upon the Ring's existence and the power that maintained it.

  The heavy cable, thick as an arm, ran along a groove by the hangar rails and entered a tube-like connector box to disappear into the spherical body of the ship, where it furnished the K-238 with all necessary information. Otherwise its crew would have been operating blind because the airlock doors of the giant hangar still remained closed. On the viewscreens a glowing carpet of lightpoints covered the black background of endless space. From the receivers emanated a sound which also filled the Command Central of the Drusus at this moment—the giant ship which presently housed the smaller K-238.

  Through the familiar monotonous humming a new sound made itself heard as file warp-field generator began to function. On the viewscreens of the K-238, traces of a nebulous circular shape began to materialize as though space itself had thinned at this spot and allowed some sort of alien vapor to pour through from another universe.

  The weird ring grew and as it grew it became more distinct.

  The five men in the small control room of the K-238 observed the phenomenon attentively as the howling from the generator grew louder and the ring from another world increased its luminous intensity.

  Perry Rhodan lifted his chin from his hands to observe the small videoscreen of the telecom receiver as it suddenly lit up without warning. With a casual movement of his right hand he switched on the connection and saw Sikerman's large head appear on the screen.

  "Ready, sir," announced the Drusus' first Officer. "Your orders can be issued now."

  Rhodan replied: "Very good, Sikerman. We take off in 12 minutes, exactly 20:45 ship time. Issue the necessary instructions; I want to have my hands free."

  Sikerman hesitated, then suddenly said "Sir—"

  "Yes?"

  "I mean—that is—we all wish you success!" Rhodan nodded with a smile. "Thank you. If you can add a little luck to that wish then we'll probably make it."

  The screen went dark. Somebody sighed as though just realizing that this was the last communication with a human being that the K-238 would have for a long time, beyond the metal-plastic walls of its 200-foot hull.

  Reginald Bell exhaled volubly.

  Eyes closed, Rhodan began to look back over the path that had brought them this far. Was everything they had done correct? And above all, were their hypotheses valid? —including their own suppositions and the shrewd conclusions drawn by Atlan the Arkonide?

  The chronometers aboard the K-238 registered 17 January 2042—Earth time.

  How had the whole thing begun? On January fifth, a few 100 light-years away, on Venus.

  • • •

  "Cruiser Solar System, Commander Bell, returning from Sector 4, course 21," said a hard booming voice. "Precautionary measures as usual. Sectors 1 through 7 to be evacuated at once. That is all."

  On the edge of the giant landing field of the spaceport stood a row of buildings which were typical of all space-ports: crew barracks for maintenance troops, material storehouses, a small hospital and a long line of single-storey office buildings for commissioned officers and their staffs. Everything looked strictly functional and drab under the hot, grey overcast sky; for the North spaceport on the great northern continent of Venus was exclusively reserved for the Terranian war fleet and the planners had not found it necessary to bother with flamboyant reception buildings, customs control stations and passenger service facilities.

  Hidden in the mountains north of the landing field was the former Arkonide stronghold that Perry Rhodan had discovered 70 years before, along with its one time chief, Atlan the immortal, who had begun to be Perry Rhodan's friend from that time on. The heart or rather the brain of this mighty stronghold was the tremendous positronic computer installation which had become the focal point of all political and physical calculations pertaining to the Solar Empire. And above all: within a vast galactic area it was the only machine of its kind that, could quickly calculate the orbit of a certain artificial planet that hurtled around a large number of gravitational centers many light-years away, while utilizing only such data as a fractional orbital arc and very few additional pieces of information.

  This was the orbit of the planet Wanderer.

  In the low rambling officers' building Perry Rhodan and Atlan the Arkonide sat facing each other in a small room that was amazingly well furnished and comfortable, each of them immersed in his own thoughts and unresponsive to the splendid panorama of solitude which was offered by the arrow-straight dark line of the Venusian jungle bordering on the field.

  High above the spaceport appeared a glittering point of light which grew swiftly and came toward the ground. A strong blast of wind came across the broad field and the roaring sound of a spaceship followed as it cut down hastily through the dense atmosphere.

  "He's in a hurry," observed Atlan.

  Rhodan got up and moved to the window as if to see the glowing ball of the landing ship more clearly from there. "I probably also told him to make it fast," he answered absently.

  "Well, Administrator," said Atlan sarcastically, "if you had allowed him to send out a hypercom message straight from the source you might have saved yourself two days of waiting."

  Rhodan turned around and leaned against the window. "Oh? So that your top ruler, Admiral, could pick up my conversation and subject it to his ingenious faculties—adding his positronic currents, doing a little addition and subtraction, jumping into exponents here and there and whatever else—in order to find the galactic position of the Earth by the quickest means possible? Is that what you mean?"

  The Arkonide made a deprecating gesture with his hand. "The chance was small. It's not so easy to intercept a direct beam like that."

  "The chance was small but nevertheless—it was there. And I don't want to give him any chance at all."

  Atlan also rose to his feet. "Alright, you have a point, Barbarian. I'm only sorry for the nervous tension it's caused you. It's easy to see how worked up you are about this."

  Rhodan tapped the window over his shoulder with his thumb. "Out there is my reassurance," he said with a smile.

  The flame and thunder of the Solar System reached its crescendo point at about 1500 feet above the field, sweeping the landing strip with an aftershock of displaced air masses. The glow of ionized particles was extinguished as the great ship braked into the customary landing speed and floated down softly onto the grey pavement.

  A column of open personnel trucks shot out from behind a row of storage buildings and seemed for a moment to be heading right under the lowering ship but they finally stopped at the spot where the wide landing ramp—just now appearing out of the main lock—would probably touch the ground.

  Within a few seconds after the landing had finally been completed and the cruiser rested firmly on its hydraulic landing struts, two men appeared above in the lock opening; they glided down the conveyor ramp and jumped into
one of the waiting vehicles. Instantly the personnel carrier got under way and headed for the office building complex.

  "You really stir up a storm of activity," observed Atlan. There was that in his voice that indicated he was truly amazed.

  The pickup vehicle stopped outside in front of the main entrance. Two men emerged from it, both of them of average height and, by a curious coincidence, both red-headed. The huskier of the two wore the rank insignia of a commander; his companion, of average build, wore the uniform of a captain.

  Their swiftly marching feet resounded through the hallway. The door of the small, comfortable room was jerked open. Reginald Bell stood on the threshold.

  Instead of giving any form of greeting, he said: "Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

  The silence which followed this announcement was also absolute.

  Atlan was still standing near the window, apparently a non-participant and showing little interest. If he revealed any attentiveness to the matter at all, it was directed at Rhodan in order to observe his reaction.

  In the latter's face, however, there was nothing to be seen but a brief hardening of the jaw muscles. But within a second or so Rhodan recovered, appearing as though he had just received a message that was insignificant and of no particular interest.

  "Come in," he said. "You, too, Captain. And then I want to hear a more detailed report."

  Reginald Bell plopped himself into one of the chairs. Capt. Gorlat remained standing. Bell reported: "There's not much to tell. When we arrived at the coordinates calculated by the positronicon, we found nothing. I mean—absolutely nothing within a circumference of six light-years. Naturally we searched for any possible traces, such as a hydrogen trail, because you know such light gases are lost in small amounts as a planet moves through space. But we didn't find one extra hydrogen molecule above what is more or less normal for deep space. We lost a whole day working with the tracking equipment; all we picked up on the screens was one measly meteor. Wanderer has disappeared!"

  Rhodan looked at Gorlat, who responded to the challenge.

  "Our propulsion plant was in order, sir. The chance of a false jump is out of the question. We even made two test transitions and each time we came out to the exact light-second that was calculated beforehand. The spatial area at the point indicated by the positronicon was free of disturbances. No magnetic storms, no real-time variations, nothing. In fact there's no other conclusion, sir, than that which the Commander has already drawn."

  "Wanderer has disappeared," confirmed Bell again.

  "The Old Man has played a trick on us. Maybe he wants us to play puzzle games again like we did about 66 years ago."

  Rhodan shook his head. With hands behind his back, he paced a few steps and then stopped in front of Atlan, a quizzical look on his face.

  • • •

  Wanderer had disappeared. According to the promise of its builder and proprietor, it was a world whose existence guaranteed Rhodan eternal life. But now it was lost.

  In the late 70s Rhodan made his first crucial visit to the planet and its master, who represented the accumulated consciousness of a long extinct race. He and Bell, who had remained his battle companion ever since that historically significant flight to the moon, had been found worthy of receiving the biological cell-shower treatment, which was good for 62 years of life without aging. The strange being who ruled over Wanderer had given them the instructions to return at the end of 62 years in order to again receive the gift of another 62 years of life by means of a second treatment. Not sooner and not later, within a tolerance of three months. As a result of a retardation of time to which they were subjected during their first sojourn on Wanderer, they had not returned to the Earth until 1980.

  Now in the year 2042 the allowed period was up. Or more precisely: the 1st of February 2042 was the earliest and the 1st of May of 2042 was the latest time when they were supposed to put in an appearance on Wanderer.

  Exceeding the latest time period allowed would mean an immediate slowing down of the bodily functions. Without a further biological cell-shower the body's rate aging would make up for all the deterioration held in check during the 62 years. One week after May 1, Perry Rhodan and Reginald Bell would become a couple of 100-year-old decrepits with two feet in the grave.

  And Wanderer had disappeared!

  "I'm convinced that he's having us," asserted Bell stubbornly. "The Old Boy is leading us around by the nose!"

  He had slept for 10 hours without interruption and the rest had restored his old fighting spirit as well as his tremendous optimism.

  "That which he had referred to as the 'Old Boy' was the solitary inhabitant of Wanderer, a monstrous psychic power representing the collective consciousness of an entire race which was no longer bound to a physical body.

  Rhodan was of another opinion. "He has granted us the cell activation treatment," he said, shaking his head. "What reason would he have to lie to us?"

  "Lord knows!" blustered Bell. "In any case I don't trust that old rascal—never have!"

  They sat in a subterranean room within the old Arkonide stronghold. A few passages away was the Control Central of the great positronicon, which was operating at the limits of its capacity, and they could hear its humming action even at this distance.

  "No," declared Rhodan decisively. "The disappearance of Wanderer has to have another reason... or better yet: there must be another cause."

  Atlan, Who had followed the conversation in silence, now looked askance at Rhodan. "That sounds as though you had a suspicion of something," he said.

  Rhodan shrugged. "Why should we speak of suppositions when the machine will be through with its calculations in a few minutes?"

  Atlan returned a smile. "I just was interested, Barbarian, to see if the same thing occurred to you as it has to me."

  Although they refrained from expressing their thoughts at the moment, the positronicon spilled out the same conclusion, stamping the words bluntly into metal foil strips in accordance with its mechanical character: Wanderer had fallen prey to an overlapping of two time-planes. The machine gave a probability indication of 81% for the correctness of its findings.

  "Is that what you suspected?" asked Atlan.

  "Naturally," answered Rhodan. "The Druufs have swallowed Wanderer just as they did Mirsal. There's only one thing curious about it, though."

  "And that is...?"

  "Wouldn't the entity on Wanderer have had any possibility of defending himself against the Druufs? Would he have had to let himself be gobbled up like that without putting up any defense?"

  Atlan became pensive. He only answered after a considerable pause. "I know that in your minds the Lord of Wanderer is supposed to be some mysterious creature who goes around haunting the depths of space like an omnipotent being. As a reasoning human being—which you generally demonstrate yourself to be—you should come to realize, Administrator, that such omnipotence is mere fiction. Every power has its limitation and it is by no means difficult to imagine that the Old Boy, as Bell calls him, is no match for the Druufs."

  Rhodan shook his head in vigorous disagreement. "As far as I'm concerned, that would be very hard to imagine. My friend, you have not experienced what we did on Wanderer. No, I'm certain that there's still another riddle behind this that's waiting to be solved."

  "Then you'd better get busy, Barbarian." The Arkonide smiled gently. "You don't have much time left for puzzling it out. Today is the 6th of January by your reckoning."

  • • •

  The next step was obvious.

  The positronicon calculated the orbital segment that Wanderer would have traversed from the time of the Druufs' first appearance until the 5th of January of 2042—an arc of travel in which it had ostensibly disappeared.

  Rhodan put top priority on the project of having an auxiliary spaceship of the Guppy class fitted out with a warp-field generator. This apparatus was the only means of providing a crossover into the alien time-plane of the Druufs, inasmuch as it made a
kind of doorway between the two ratios of time. The Guppy, having receiving its alterations, was transported on board the Drusus to the place where the orbit of the Wanderer had been during the middle third of the year 2040.

  The battleship Drusus had already been furnished with a large warp-field generator during a previous operation. If the Earth fleet had any ship at all that was a match for the Druuf threat, then this had to be the Drusus.

  The technology of warp-field generation had been discovered more or less by accident slightly more than a year previously but in the course of events in the Crystal World of the Druuf dimension it had been advanced considerably. Now it was possible to cross over into the alien time-plane wherever an interface of the two time-ratios had taken place in the past or where such an overlap might be happening at a given moment. So it was that the only thing the Drusus had to do was to fly along the orbital path of Wanderer with an activated warp-field projected before it. If, according to the findings of the positronicon, an overlap had actually occurred, causing Wanderer to fall victim to it, then as soon as the ship arrived at the intersecting point it would be able to penetrate the alien time-plane by means of its own warp-field.

  And this situation presented itself after a brief search.

  The Drusus penetrated into a kind of space that was permeated by a deep reddish glow that had been observed before. It was a void which seemed to serve no other purpose than to provide a location for the poisonous green star in its center.

  The weird color phenomena occasioned no sense of fear since everyone had already gone through this experience before. The instruments of the Drusus indicated the distance between the ship and the green sun as being 54 astronomical units—a measurement which Rhodan regarded with well-founded suspicion. They had already observed that conventional measurements of the Einstein Continuum were either shortened or simply not applicable.

  Since Rhodan did not wish to expose the Drusus to the danger of an alien time-lapse adaptation, he returned from the red universe through the warp-field energy lens after only a short stay.