by Perry Rhodan
Perry Rhodan
The Third Power #12
The Rebels of Tuglan
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The Rebels of Tuglan
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1/ OF REBELS...
The alien was impish. The ludicrous little creature ducked into a depression in the ground and waited.
The world appeared to be dead. Flat sandy reddish hills stretched as far as the horizon, long valleys with sparse vegetation and occasional dried-out bushes. A dark red sun stood high in the sky, spreading a weird and literally unearthly light. It was cold, far below the freezing point. Here and there, vagrant stars twinkled forlornly in the very violet sky.
The only visible sign of life was the curious creature which looked like a considerably magnified mouse that was trying its best to become a beaver. Its tail was not long and pointed, in the typical fashion of normal mice, but broad and strong, like a beaver's, resembling the blade of a paddle.
The animal's body was about a yard in all, covered with a thick smooth fur that glistened reddish-brown in the rays of the dying sun. The pointed nose endowed the face with an expression of alertness and brightness.
Its very broad rump argued against its being a typically fleet-footed member of the rodent family. At least on dry land. It might be a quite different story in a river or lake. But unfortunately the lonely world of the dying sun had no water. At least not on its surface. And this was one of the reasons that the race of the mouse-beavers lived deep beneath the desert.
Life was monotonous and without hope but the mouse-beavers were satisfied with their lackluster lot. As long as the sparse vegetation supplied them with enough to eat, they knew no worries. As a species they knew no worries but there was this one exception among them, this being unique among its kind who, unlike the others, did not suffer a diminution of its intelligence when day was done. When the sun set, the wits of the others were extinguished like a candle wick. When night fell, their reasoning powers fell as well.
Not so, the little nameless one. It was but one of the huge colony living on this unknown and deserted planet, spending its days in grazing with the others who, after sunset, would crawl into their underground burrows to sleep. The sun would rise again in the morning and it would be time once more to feed; at nightfall, to sleep. Sun up, sun down, and life offered no diversions, no excitement.
Until the strangers came.
The astronauts from another world.
The spacemen from Earth.
They arrived in an inconceivably large sphere, descended from the skies and landed in the desert. They searched for something and after they found it they were ready to depart.
But they had brought something into this world for which the inhabitants had unconsciously been longing: variety and amusement. Especially strong was the compulsion to play in the heart of this one exceptional denizen of Vagabond.
Quivering with delight, the little mouse-beaver remembered the thrilling adventures and games it had experienced. The strangers - odd, upright-walking creatures with arms and legs - had brought along innumerable instruments and machines that made such wonderful toys. The strangers did not like at all when 'it' and the others would play with these machines; they had even been afraid. Why should they be afraid? Why were they so disturbed when the mouse-beavers had the heavy trucks run around in a circle and then started to activate all those interesting weapons? Wasn't that what they were intended for?
The mouse-beaver crouched lower down in the shallow depression. Not far from this spot, the giant sphere rested on the ground. The two-legged creatures were busily running back and forth, loading machines into the fathomless belly of their ship. Indeed, they wanted to leave this world for certain. But the mouse-beaver did not want them to depart. It would be so lonely and boring without these strangers. It was no fun just to play with boulders or sand. Of course, you could always make some friend rise up into the air and then let him drop to the ground again - but in the long run, even that became boring. What good was it to be able to move objects about without having to touch them, if there were no objects on this planet?
Now the strangers were finishing up with the work of closing some boxes. The mouse-beaver regarded the two- legged creatures, its head cocked to one side. It was wondering whether they would take it along if it asked them to. But how should it ask them? They would not understand it. Maybe they were even afraid of it.
If it wanted to continue playing with these strangers, then it had to try to get inside the big ship. It had to join them and leave its own world. But how?
The boxes!
One of the boxes was quite close to where the mouse-beaver was hiding. The lid was lying next to the box, ready to be placed on top of it. The magnetic damps would then automatically snap tight and close it. None of the two-legged creatures were in the immediate vicinity.
The mouse-beaver did not think twice. It acted instinctively and without too much conscious thought. It wanted to play, that was all. But this was only possible if it could get into the ship inside this box. The box, therefore, was its immediate goal.
It did not sit up on its hind legs the way its kind was wont to do, but crept instead on all fours, leaving the hollow dip in the ground. It used its broad tail to erase its track.
The animal - was it really an animal just because it did not look like a man? - reached the box, looked around curiously in all directions and then disappeared as fast as lightning inside.
The mouse-beaver was lucky. It was one of the boxes used to store the food supplies for the space expedition. Part of the provisions had been used up meanwhile, and thus the animal found enough space to stow away its small body inside. The rest was easy.
True, one of the two-legged creatures who was standing at a distance, talking to one of his friends, was somewhat surprised to see the lid rise slowly off the ground, hover above the box and then slam down on top of it - but then he just shrugged his shoulders. By now the crew had gotten used to the more or less harmless telekinetic antics of the odd inhabitants of this planet. As long as they were satisfied to play with box lids, there was no need to sound the alarm.
And thus the mouse-beaver came into the big ship which two hours later left the home planet of the little creature, now lying toward unknown worlds it knew nothing about.
And the little mouse-beaver could not see how its home world, the sole planet of a dying sun, shrank gradually until it was a pinpoint of light, soon to vanish completely in the depths of the universe.
But it felt bored again!
It was dark and crowded in the box. The air was different. The oxygen-rich atmosphere aboard the ship was in crass contrast to the thin air of its home planet. Besides, it was terribly hot. The dying sun had supplied little warmth, and the temperature on the lonely planet the strangers had named Vagabond would sink way below the freezing point during the night.
The mouse-beaver started to perspire. It removed the lid and crept out of the box. At first, it was frightened by the room's size, but then it saw that there was box after box standing around. Must be a storage room.
Somewhere there were some noises. It lay flat on the floor and crept toward these noises. A door opened as easy as pie. Swiftly it slid through a long corridor. There was a hum coming from below. The metal floor was vibrating. There was another corridor on the right. The mouse-beaver turned into it. Then suddenly there was this smell.
Yes, a strange odor. It was warm.
All of a sudden a cold draft.
Another door. Two-legged creatures stood around talking in their strange idiom. Giant kettles were supported by pedestals. The two-legged ones were stirring something inside the kettles w
ith glittering poles. The heat was unbearable.
The mouse-beaver caught a glimpse of a half-opened door. That's where the cold draft originated. The two-legged creatures paid no attention to the mouse-beaver. The big pots provided sufficient cover. A few leaps and it reached the door - and slipped through the narrow opening.
Soothing cold enveloped it. Strange smells were in the air. It let the door close behind it, and 'looked' around. It sent out waves like radar rays, which were reflected of the objects and produced an image on its sensitive retina as if by magic.
It felt hungry and it found a piece of fruit. The fruit was ice-cold and frozen solid, but it tasted delicious.
The mouse-beaver began to feel at home.
And then it started to play.
The system of the dying sun with the solitary planet fell away.
The gigantic spacesphere sped into interstellar space and prepared itself for the hyperjump through the fifth dimension.
The coordinates were fixed.
The sun Vega was exactly twenty-four hundred light-years away, nearly the same distance as Earth and its sun Sol. A distance beyond human comprehension but no problem for the spaceship Stardust II.
And definitely no problem for Perry Rhodan.
The commander of the giant craft, built centuries ago by the Arkonides, sat in his chair, ready for action. There was a steely glint in his gray-blue eyes. His slender tanned hands rested on the controls.
The small electronic brain had set the hyperjump coordinates. The scale showed 2401.073 light-years. The spaceship would dematerialize and, almost instantaneously reappear at the edge of the Vega system. From there it would not be too difficult to search out their destination by using the illuminated map they had found on the planet Vagabond.
Their destination - a lonely planet without a sun, forever wandering throughout infinity, toward eternity. It was the planet itself that harbored the secret of eternal life.
Rhodan waited a few more seconds. He was filled with the restlessness of expectation. Too much time had passed already since they had set out on their search for the planet of eternal life. They had discovered its trace in the Vega system, followed it, but the unknown being had placed many obstacles in their way. He had laid down the trail of riddles to be solved throughout millennia, independent of time and space. But Rhodan and his friends had succeeded in solving all these tasks - except for the last one.
The Arkonide Khrest stood close behind Rhodan. His tall figure and long white hair gave him an awe-inspiring appearance. To judge by his exterior, it was hard to believe that his race was doomed, a victim of their own decadence. The Arkonides were the rulers of a mighty star realm, thirty-four thousand light-years distant from Earth. But this star realm was slowly and surely nearing its total collapse. Entire solar systems regained their independence and broke away from the commonwealth of the galactic empire. Khrest was one of the last survivors of the ruling Arkonide dynasty. He had set out on the search for immortality and was forced to crashland on Terra's moon. Perry Rhodan had rescued him while on his first manned lunar expedition and had brought him back to Earth. Ever since that time, both he and Khrest were seeking the elixir of immortality.
They had come to the planet Vagabond, where they had found a further clue: a glowing map of the galaxy, showing a luminous trail leading from the sun Vega to the planet of eternal life.
With that they had finally conclusive proof of the planet's position.
Khrest sighed. "Are you sure you want to start the transition now, Rhodan?"
"We have the correct coordinates, and not too much time, Khrest."
The Arkonide shrugged his shoulders. "We're still too close to the red sun; remember, this system has only one planet. It's easy to misjudge the distances under these circumstances."
"Twenty astronomical units," said Rhodan, glancing at the instrument panel. "That's sufficient. Sit down, Khrest. We're ready."
Khrest remained standing. It made no difference what the body's position was during a transition, since its own Fields of gravity balanced out everything.
Perry Rhodan smiled with determination, then his fist hit down hard on the transition lever.
The stars disappeared from the videoscreen; all became dark.
And matter ceased to exist - at least in normal space - and slipped first into the fourth, then the fifth dimension, traversed a distance of 2401.073 light-years, independent of time and space, and finally began to exist anew.
2401 light-years?
The very moment the transition took place, Perry Rhodan realized that something must have gone wrong.
He felt the usual pain in his limbs, no different sensation than what he had experienced before. But his eyes could still see. And they perceived the figure on the dial of the coordinate scale race ahead madly.
Rhodan recognized a three, then another three, followed by three additional figures. Then he could not read the scale any longer; all grew hazy before his eyes, and turned dark.
Perry Rhodan and his spaceship raced, in a dematerialized state, through the universe toward an unknown destination.
The blue giant sun hung flaming and threatening in space. This sun was the mother of thirty-eight planets, in various rotating orbital paths and receiving the sun's life-giving energy. Not all the planets enjoyed the sun's gift equally. The inner planets felt only its searing fiery breath. They were merely molten balls, held together by sheer gravity. Then came the zone of life. It extended from the eighth to the thirty-first planet. Beyond that giant ice worlds put an end to natural life. The outer planets were nothing but deadly ice-giants, lonesome and frozen solid, circling in ever-widening orbits around their distant sun which gave them only frugal light.
In the middle of the life zone, the planet Tuglan basked in the warming rays of its sun Laton. At night, Tuglan's sky was so full of stars that people could see their own shadows. No human being living on Earth had ever seen so many stars in the sky, for Laton was located at the edge of the star cluster M-13, in the Hercules constellation, more than thirty-five thousand light-years distant from Terra.
The planet Tuglan was inhabited.
The exploring space cruiser of the Arkonide star realm had discovered this fact more than six thousand years ago, and had quickly incorporated Tuglan into the galactic empire. For the Tuglanians this meant the beginning of an era bringing economic boom and technical progress. Space travel was developed, and soon after they were able to colonize the inhabitable planets of their own system.
Due to the contact with the Arkonides, political unification of Tuglan was achieved, and from that time on it was governed by the high commissioner of Arkon and the "Lord of Tuglan."
But the visits of the Arkonide spaceships to their distant colony came at greater and greater intervals, and contact between Tuglan and the faraway empire grew less and less. Only the presence of the high commissioner reminded the Tuglanians that they were the subjects of a far mightier power.
Properly speaking, however, the situation was still much more complicated. The Tuglanians were although they no longer knew it - the descendants of the Arkonides. More than twelve thousand years ago, the first colonists had discovered and settled the planet Tuglan. At that time, the galactic empire did not yet exist as such in its later form, and therefore there was no longer any relation between Tuglan and Arkon. And, when the Arkonide explorers rediscovered Tuglan some six thousand years later, they believed they had found an entirely new race.
The Tuglanian descendants of the Arkonides had ceased to be albinoes, had violet hair now instead of the characteristic Arkonide white, and their complexion had become reddish-blue.
Hidden, feverish excitement reigned in the palace of - the great Lord in the capital Tugla. Not a trace of this atmosphere reached the outside world, but the functionaries and dignitaries of the interplanetary realm of the Laton sun sensed that there was something in the air. However, they did not know what that might be, although many had some inkling.
> The great Lord Alban, a tall man with hard features, made no bones about this as he talked to his younger brother Daros.
"It's been much too long that we have had to put up with the regimentation of these decadent Arkonides. Is there any valid reason why we should still be considered as one of their colonies?"
The younger man had far more pleasant facial features. His dark eyes revealed an expression of melancholy and softness but his energetic mouth bespoke a rather different disposition. He was slender and wore the regular clothing of a higher official.
He regarded his brother pensively. "I realize that you would like to see the Tuglanians become an independent people. But let me answer you with another question: what advantage do you expect if we withdraw from the empire and become independent? Can you tell me any compelling reason for that?"
Alban impatiently waved aside his brother's objections with a gesture of his hand. "What are the advantages of being a patriot, can you tell me that? Don't forget, the Arkonide empire is doomed. We don't hear too much, but just a few days ago the high commissioner let slip a remark which made it clear that the Arkonides have their difficulties. And many races think the way we do in this respect."
"And what do we think, may I ask?" inquired Daros intently.
"We want to be free! Free from Arkon's rule! That's our slogan."
"Free from Arkon's rule?" The younger man shook his head. "That makes no sense. We have always been free men. I admit we're part of the Arkonide empire, but has this been to our disadvantage?"
"National ideals are at stake here!" shouted Alban with enthusiasm, hitting the table top with his list. "We have eight inhabited planets in our system and they're all united under my rule. We're strong and powerful. why should we submit to the high commissioner's reign?"
Daros sighed. "I don't follow your arguments any longer, brother. Why do you want to fight against someone: who has done us no harm? The Arkonide commissioner is a peace-loving man. He doesn't interfere in our affairs. We're independent, if you look at it objectively."