by Perry Rhodan
Rhodan swung around abruptly and went to the little gate leading to the street. RN2 waited there for him with the typical Tuglanian means of transport, a car with two wheels and a gravity gyroscope.
Alban had been clever enough to change his plans. Daros found out about it with great distress.
He inhabited a small apartment in a wing of the palace. From his windows he had been able to observe the landing of the huge Arkonide cruiser. He was glad to see the rulers of the mighty galactic empire. They had come to bring law and order to Tuglan. And it was just at the right moment, Daros thought to himself.
It would be unwise to rush to the spaceport and warn the Arkonides. They would never believe him. The responsibility for maintaining peace with the empire rested with Alban - and so far the peace had not been broken. And even if it had been broken, there was no proof who was to blame. It would be a very difficult task to expose the true intentions of his treacherous older brother.
And the commissioner, Rathon? One could not rely on him, for he spent his life in a dream, happy not to be bothered with Tuglanian affairs. No, he would not be of any help in the fight for justice.
Who else could be of assistance to him?
Daros came to the painful realization that he had no allies. The Tuglanians in general were not too interested in politics, and even if they should secretly sympathize with the rebels, they had no idea who the leader of the rebels was. No one had the faintest notion that the great Lord himself was planning this rebellion.
Not until independence had been gained would Alban reveal himself as the instigator and permit himself to be acclaimed as the victorious hero of his people. But in case the revolt should fail, Daros could be made the scapegoat.
Daros was shocked to the core when he became aware of his brother's cunning and maliciousness in laying a trap for him.
He felt he had to get out of the confines of the palace, that seemed more like a prison to him now. A walk through the streets would do him good and maybe clear his head. Ever since his last conversation with Alban he had known that they were enemies, mortal foes. Only one of them could survive the visit of the Arkonides: this would be the victor and thus the ruler over the realm of the eight planets.
Daros thought for a moment. Then he opened a drawer of his table and took out a small, dangerous looking pistol, known as a needler. Compressed gas was used to shoot tiny poisoned needles. The slightest touch on a person's skin was enough to paralyze my attacker.
He put the weapon in his pocket and left the palace wing.
Nobody stopped him on his way out. More than once did Daros have an uncertain feeling of being watched by invisible eyes - but it might be just his imagination. Could he have started seeing ghosts already? How could he guess, though, that Alban had giving definite instructions to his allies?
There was heavy traffic in the streets. The Tuglanians were on their way to the spaceport to welcome the
Arkonide masters. They had overcome their initial shock and relied on Alban's proclamation that the Arkonides were coming as friends.
Daros smiled bitterly. Anther dirty trick of his brother. He was pulling the wool over the rulers' eyes! How could they possibly still assume a rebellion had been planned if the Tuglanians seemed so happy about their arrival and greeted them with joy? If ever anyone had thought of throwing off the yoke of the Arkonide masters, it could have been only a very small minority, which now had withdrawn from view, fearing the wrath of the people and punishment from the Lord.
No, decided Daros - better not show himself at the spaceport. Wiser to wait and see. What good would it do to risk any unnecessary danger?
Tugla was a far-flung city with small houses and many gardens. A river divided the town into two parts. Nearby were some wooded hills where Daros often had gone hunting with his brother. That was quite some time ago when their father had been the Lord of Tuglan.
These mountains and woods reminded him of the care-free days of his youth. Then Alban's mind had not yet been poisoned by his greed for power and the fear of losing it again. They had been pals, good friends who shared everything alike.
Daros hailed a gyrocar. The driver pulled up and opened the door.
"Where to, sir?"
"Drive out of the city - to the mountains. Drive slowly."
The Tuglanian shook his head. He could not understand the strange order his fare had given him: now, when everybody streamed to greet the Arkonides, this man wanted to take a leisurely drive to the mountains! Well, it was none of his business, after all, he comforted himself.
Soon they had left the city behind. It was a good road, and they rapidly picked up speed. Daros had been aware for quite a while that they were being followed.
Two other gyrocars kept at a steady distance behind them. This could not be mere coincidence. So, Alban had him under surveillance! Let him have his fun. Daros would go out of his way to avoid doing anything against Alban - as long as he lacked irrefutable evidence of his brother's evil plans.
They entered the woods. The road narrowed to a winding path as they approached the mountains. They crossed a river; afterward, the road became quite steep. Daros looked back and noticed that the two other cars had disappeared from view. Somehow this did not agree with the theory he had worked out. Had they turned back? It did not make sense.
They continued for a short stretch, then he asked the driver to stop and wait for him; he walked toward a clearing in the woods. Here he could find peace and bring order to his inner turmoil. The fresh air felt good.
Daros wandered about aimlessly for almost an hour before he decided he had better return. He would have preferred staying here, for nothing tempted him to go back to the palace.
On their way back, as they neared the river, they were held up by a road block. A tree trunk had fallen across the road. Several cars were waiting to pass. Several Tuglanians were excitedly talking but stopped when Daros got out of his car. The men broke out in smiles and then, suddenly, one of them shouted enthusiastically: "Daros! Long live Lord Daros and the freedom of Tuglan!"
The bystanders joined in his jubilant crisis and soon the woods reverberated from their excited voices:
"Down with Lord Alban and the Arkonides! Long live Lord Daros, our liberator!"
For a few moments Daros did not understand what had gotten into these people. They seemed to have gone insane; there was no other explanation for this mad scene. He tried to fend off the overly enthusiastic men, who almost smothered him as they were tightly clustering around. He barely managed to escape to the safety of his car. Soon the tree trunk was moved out of the way and his car started off, accompanied by the cheering and applause of the crowd that had gathered around. Even later, when they had reached the city again, he could hear the shouts:
"Down with Lord Alban and his friends, the Arkonides! Long live our liberator Daros!"
Daros was suddenly seized by an overwhelming feeling of fear.
Rhodan remained skeptical.
He disliked Rathon's attempt to place the Lord of Tuglan in a bad light in his eyes. Perhaps the high commissioner of the Arkonides was simply trying to cover up his own weakness with this manoeuvre. For what interest could Alban derive from a change in the present situation?
Nevertheless...
Together with Bell, he had himself announced at the Lord's palace on the third day after the landing. The guards saluted respectfully and - as Rhodan assumed - in awe of the Arkonides. They all seemed to feel a fear in their bones of the horrible weapons in the gigantic sphere.
Alban was friendly as usual.
Courteously, he led his visitors into a small hall, which served as a reception room for diplomatic occasions.
Alban pointed to three chairs.
"Have a seat, please. To what do I owe the honor of your visit, noble Arkonides? May I inquire if you are satisfied so far with your mission that brought you to our planet?"
Rhodan remained standing.
"Who's the leader of the opposition against the galact
ic empire?" he asked abruptly. "What's the size of this resistance group, what are their goals and who's behind this movement?"
Alban cringed for an instant, then shook his head with exaggerated sadness. "Noble lords, I've been afraid that you might bring up this question. But believe me, I can easily handle this affair. I don't wish to bother you with such trifles. I'm the Lord of Tuglan and I shall punish anybody who dares to insult the empire."
"I still want to know who is the leader of these rebels," insisted Rhodan. "Some people hive claimed it's your own brother."
Alban lowered his eyes with embarrassment. Then with surprising frankness he looked straight at Rhodan.
"That's absolute nonsense, noble Arkonide. I'd stake my life on my brother's integrity. He's not involved at all in this resistance movement."
Rhodan was surprised; he had counted on a different reaction from Alban - that he would seize this opportunity to incriminate his brother Daros. The rumors he had heard were apparently not correct. Rathon must obviously be mistaken to consider Alban a conniver.
"I'd like to meet your brother," said Rhodan.
Alban nodded obligingly and motioned to one of the servants. Hardly two minutes later, a young Tuglanian entered the room, hesitated for a moment at the door on seeing the two presumed Arkonides; then he slowly started to move forward. His eyes were fixed on Rhodan all the time. He ignored Alban's presence.
An undecided character, thought Rhodan. He seemed to be unsure of himself. Bad conscience? Or something else that worried him?
He decided to ask the young man directly. "I'm Rhodan, the commander of the surveillance expedition. This is my deputy." He pointed at Bell, who proudly stuck out his chest. "Rumors are going around that there's a strong opposition here on Tuglan desiring independence from Arkon and the galactic empire. The bombing attack on our local radio installation proves that this isn't idle talk on their part. I was told that you're involved in this organization. Will you please explain how it's possible that you could be accused of this?"
Daros briefly glanced at Alban with contempt.
"It's a lie!" he said firmly. "My brother's a liar. He's the one who wants independence from Arkon. He himself has been the instigator of the attack against the broadcast station. His men perished trying to flee from the robots. He had even planned the murder of Commissioner Rathon, but, fortunately, you arrived just in time to prevent this. I know that my brother wants to make me look suspicious so that I'll become the scapegoat for his own misdeeds. He's afraid I desire to become his successor. He wants to eliminate me."
Rhodan scrutinized the young man. He was startled by this outburst. Although Daros impressed him far more favorably in general than Alban, the older brother, nevertheless, had avoided casting aspersions on his younger brother's character. On the contrary, he had defended him. This spoke in his favor. Daros, on the other hand, had brought severe accusations against Alban.
How could this be explained? Who was to be believed? Rhodan regretted not having brought John Marshall along with him. The telepath would have correctly sized up the situation at once. No lies would get by him.
Alban, his face contorted with a woeful smile, shook his head. "Oh, Daros, how reckless of you! I wanted to spare you and concealed your treacherous activities from the noble Arkonides. Now, however, since you've chosen to attack me, I'm forced to defend myself." He beckoned to one of the silently waiting servants. "Fortunately, I have my men everywhere. They've secretly kept you under surveillance, Daros. And recently, when you met your rebel friends, they obtained concrete evidence of your conspiracy. Here, noble Arkonides, see and hear for yourselves!"
He pushed a button and the curtains closed. It grew almost dark in the reception hall. In the front of the room, a ground glass screen began to glow softly, then the three-dimensional and true-to-life image of a bridge over a river could be seen. A large crowd surrounded a car. A young Tuglanian was standing next to the car. The people were shouting jubilantly, hailing and cheering the young man, constantly repeating their request:
"Down with Alban and his friends, the Arkonides! Long live Lord Daros, our liberator!"
Rhodan recognized immediately that the young Tuglanian on the three-dimensional screen was none other than Daros himself. The rebel leader with his followers. Was there any more convincing proof?
Still, Rhodan was sorry to witness this demonstration of the young man's guilt. But emotions had to be set aside, here, where the supremacy of the Arkonides was at stake. Leniency meant weakness in this case. And weakness equaled downfall and decadence.
"Daros, I regret but I have to place you under arrest. The empire cannot permit any acts of rebellion. Lord Alban, we're sorry but we have to take your brother in custody. We will put him in our temporary prison on board the Stardust."
"If it has to be this way, I cannot object to his imprisonment under the circumstances," replied Alban; then he turned to Daros and asked, "Why did you accuse me? I had no alternative but to defend myself."
"You traitor!" snarled Daros. "I'm ready," he announced to Rhodan. "May the day come soon enough for you to forgive yourself for the mistake you're making. Before it's too late."
Without further words, Rhodan and Bell left the room with their prisoner.
Alban stared after them unflinchingly. There was just a hint of triumph in his hard eyes.
Somewhere in a spacious basement the rebels gathered. But there were no rebels against the Arkonide empire; they were the Tuglanians who did not agree with Alban's insidious politics. They desired no changes in the present power structure. They only wished to preserve the status quo. Daros had been chosen by them to become the new Lord, for he would be a guarantee that Tuglan would remain part of the mighty empire.
Daros knew nothing about them, since he was no revolutionary. He had no idea that his brother had many enemies who wanted to remove him from power and who planned to replace him by Daros.
Among the assembled in the basement were some adventurous types, and many others who pursued an honest trade, respected citizens. Others, though, lived in the woods and remained in hiding, waiting for the signal for the revolt. They carried arms and were fully prepared to use them, for Alban had threatened all traitors with death - a threat to be taken seriously, for if the tyrant was not afraid to execute his own followers for the sake of appearances, he would not hesitate a single moment to mercilessly kill his personal enemies.
A man entered the basement through a back door. He was short-set, almost corpulent, but his movements revealed an amazing agility. His violet, shiny hair was combed straight back and imparted a demoniacal expression to his features. It was easy to imagine that his appearance alone was enough to infuse the crowds with enthusiasm.
As the rebels caught sight of him they began to murmur softly in unison:
"Long live the new Lord Daros! Long live the empire of the Arkonides! Long live the revolution against Alban, the traitor!"
The new arrival raised both hands in an imploring gesture.
"I, Karolan, the leader of the Just Cause, have to report something of importance to you. The day of freedom is near but we still face the great task of proving Alban's guilt. The cunning traitor has managed to make Daros suspect in the eyes of the Arkonide mission. They've arrested Daros. What's our next move?"
A hushed silence fell over the crowd, which received the news with dismay. Then all began to talk excitedly at the same time. Not a word could be understood, until someone from the back of the room shouted over the din of the voices: "Free Daros! Let's free him!"
Karolan shook his head.
"That would be a mistake, friends. It would only reinforce the suspicion surrounding him. We could do no greater favor to Alban than to liberate Daros. This would be conclusive proof in the eyes of the Arkonides, and we'd have to expect reprisals. No, friends, there must be a better solution, a more diplomatic way."
"Let's send a delegation to the Arkonides," suggested another man.
"That sounds
better, but who can guarantee that they'll believe us? Most likely, Alban's already foreseen that we might resort to such tactics, and he's already laid the groundwork to sow doubt in the minds of the Arkonides about our credibility. His talent for intrigues is unsurpassed, as you know."
"Very true," replied a slender man who had pushed to the fore. "Alban knows about us, but he's misrepresented our aims to the Arkonides. He says we're against him - and up to this point he's speaking the truth and no lie detector could expose him. But he passes over in silence that we are for the empire. And as long as he remains silent, it'll be difficult to prove his untruthfulness."
"I have an idea..." began Karolan, but he was interrupted. A man rushed through the main entrance door and elbowed his way through the crowd, ruthlessly pushing people aside until he stood before the leader of the rebels. His chest was heaving violently as if he had been running a long way without stop. Pearls of perspiration beaded his forehead. Several times he tried to speak but he failed to utter a sound. Totally exhausted, he permitted some of his friends to support him.
Karolan frowned. "What's the matter, Xaron?"
"Daros! The Arkonides have placed him under arrest in the palace, and now, they've taken him to their spacesphere."
That's no news to us, Xaron. Did you rush here to tell us warmed-over news"
"But you don't know that Daros was freed on the way to the spacesphere. Ten masked men ambushed the two Arkonides and Daros. And most strange - the two Arkonides did not put up any resistance. They permitted themselves to be taken prisoner and dragged off in a gyrocar that quickly took off from there. Daros wasn't even handcuffed!"
Karolan remained silent for a long time. Deep furrows marked his forehead. Then he said: "Alban wants to intensify Daros' guilt even further. He's clever. But the Arkonides are far more clever than he is. They realize that nothing untoward will befall them, for their companions' vengeance would be terrible. Therefore they let the ten men do what they wanted in order to find out what's behind all this. It doesn't surprise me any longer that they built up an empire and ruled over it for so long. But let us not underestimate Alban. I'd bet that he's already prepared his next coup."