Between The Galaxies

by Perry Rhodan

  The invisibles were there! The thermo gun's energy beam couldn't do anything to them, or at least not in the normal way. But the beam also exerted mechanical force. Meanwhile, Ed Hynes had gotten onto his feet again. He shoved his companion aside and again reached for the power switch. This time he was able to grasp it but he didn't get to pull it down to a shut off position. A number of things happened simultaneously. Hynes was flung to one side and his companion, who was still firing his weapon, suddenly let out a cry and dropped to his knees. The scene was still being transmitted by wrist telecoms among the other men in the background. Now Eric saw them charging forward to help the other two. He caught a glimpse of some of their faces which were grim with anger. They all held their weapons out in front of them and several were already firing. A hissing flood of hot energy shot out ahead of them. They all looked as if they could handle a superior enemy force in a matter of moments.

  But after only a few steps they crashed into a wall. Or at least it looked as if there were a wall there. The brilliant ray beams were now being deflected upward and downward, causing part of the awful heat to reflect back against the attackers. They did not realize soon enough that an obstacle had been thrown in front of them and most of them crashed into it, some falling down and others jumping back.

  Eric knew that his men needed him down there. He had already unmanned half the station to halt the activities of the aliens.

  Without a word, the duty corporal who had been resuscitated by Johannesson took over his position at the main console. Eric opened a small safe near his chair and extracted a lightweight disintegrator.

  Leaving the control room, he ran along the main corridor of the central deck to the antigrav shaft. When he leapt into it he gave himself a shove from the shaft wall to accelerate his descent. He hit the bottom fairly hard but took up the shock by bending his knees. Now in the lower passage he could hear the sounds of the conflict. The power room was to his right. He set his weapon ready for firing and ran to the open hatchway. He wasn't prepared for the heatwave when he entered and for several moments it took his breath away. When he saw his men sprawled on the deck, however, anger drove him forward. The men turned to see their commander charging through the bulkhead opening into the room.

  Eric came in firing. He didn't see anything to shoot at but he instinctively pressed the trigger, blindly rushing pell-mell into the fray. The pale green ray of the disintegrator pistol was sweeping back and forth, close over the heads of the men on the floor. He had no idea whether or not he would hit something but he was making every effort to do so.

  A series of shrill, deafening cries filled the room, horribly strange and alien. For only a second or so, Eric was confused, aiming his concentrated beam at a specific point. Then he set the beam to fan out wider and let it sweep across everything ahead of him. He was aware of his disadvantage in the face of the enemy, who could see him when he couldn't see them. They would try to prevent him from firing. Apparently the disintegrator was more capable of harming them than the thermo guns.

  He was about to turn to the men and yell out an order to arm themselves with disintegrators when the first blow struck him. One of the invisibles had crept up behind him and he was hit on the head. He staggered to one side but immediately caught himself from falling. He swung about swiftly and directed the green energy beam at the spot where the blow had come from.

  A wild cry almost deafened him. There was a flash before him of some thing formless and incomprehensible and a wave of suffocating heat swept back upon him. But he felt a surge of triumph. He had managed to knock one of them out of action! The disintegrator had destroyed the alien's protective screen.

  He was suddenly sobered by a second attempt on the part of one of the intruders. The blow only grazed him and he swung about and fired where he thought the enemy might be. But the invisible appeared to have been warned because no outcry followed. He had dodged out of the way. A second later Eric was struck from another direction and this time he was really knocked to his knees.

  It cleared his mind, however, to one reality. He realized there was no hope of winning against these odds.

  He retreated slowly, fanning the width of the room with his beam. Hynes and his helper had joined the others by now as evidently the unseen wall of force was gone. Eric had the gun set for minimum but in spite of this the cabinet panels protecting the generators began to show a rising mist of molecular gas. In a few moments the cover casings would shatter and collapse. There was no purpose to this, Eric decided. He and his men were simply Fleet personnel. Nobody had ever prepared them for a battle with invisible aliens from another galaxy. All they were supposed to do was run a picket post out here and advise the Earth of any unusual occurrences. It wasn't intended that they should be an advance fighting force against aliens.

  There were other men for that. The men of Division 3—Nike Quinto's specialists!

  Eric turned around. "Get the transmitters ready!" he yelled to the man nearest him.

  The man was startled but he turned and ran to the exit hatch.

  Eric tried to hold his position. He was sure the man had understood his order. They would fire up the

  transmitters. In every room of the station the blue signal lights would announce that the transmitters were on, and everybody would know what the situation had come to. Each man would go as quickly as possible to the transmitter station and get himself to safety, each in his turn.

  It was necessary to hold out here to keep the invisibles from being aware of the retreat plan. Eric's right arm had become numb. He transferred the disintegrator to his left hand and continued firing. Automatically, his hand weaved back and forth to keep the beam fanning as wide a cross-section of the room as possible. Behind him the men were slowly backing out. They understood that the station was being abandoned. Under Eric's covering fire they carried the unconscious men with them.

  Eric was streaming sweat. The heat in the room was almost unbearable. The air seemed to shimmer before him. The way behind him was clear now as he backed away. There was no sense in trying to hold out here any longer. He tried to see if the aliens would pursue him outside into the corridor. He still had to fight off their blows at the hatch door but as soon as he got into the outer passage they left him alone. He fired a last salvo through the opening and then ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

  In the transmitter station everything was in full operation. There were two cage-like compartments which were transporting one man after another from the BOB 21 to the Joann . The badly wounded had been the first to be sent through. Meanwhile, Art Cavanaugh had recovered and was there as tirelessly busy as ever, standing in front of the sender cages and checking off each man as he made the jump.

  He saluted when he saw Eric. "Just these last two men here, sir" he said briskly. "then there'll be just you and me."

  Almost at the same moment the two transmitter cages emitted a loud buzzing sound. Green indicators flashed. The cages were ready for the next transmission. The two men Art had indicated yanked open the doors and sat down on the uncomfortable waiting benches. Art deftly closed the outer wire doors. Then he adjusted the power controls and pressed two release buttons. The buzzing stopped, to be replaced by a new sound that was like the rumbling of an old-fashioned freight truck. Absently, Eric saw a faint mist fill the two cages. When the mist vanished after a second or so, the two men were no longer there.

  Art Cavanaugh politely opened the doors again when the green lights flashed on. "If you please, sir!"

  Eric refused. "You first, Sergeant!" he said wearily, and he managed a slight smile. "The captain leaves his ship last."

  Art obeyed silently. He stepped into one of the compartments and closed the grid door behind him. Eric handled the controls and in a few seconds the next to last man on board the BOB 21 disappeared.

  Eric had remained last for a reason. An idea had suddenly occurred to him. He didn't intend to give up the BOB 21 permanently. The return here was only a matter of time, s
o the transmitters would still be needed. But what if the enemy had gotten in here in the meantime and managed to observe how they worked? Would he use them to his own purposes, which would obviously be opposed to Terran interests, or would he simply destroy the equipment if he didn't know how to to use it?

  Eric wanted to be sure. He took up a position with his back to the cage that Art Cavanaugh had just vanished from. For the last time he raised his weapon, set the beam for a wide fan-out, and pressed the trigger. The pale green rays spewed forth from the stubby barrel. Eric made a slow sweep with his hand and hit.

  There was a brilliant flash next to the closed bulkhead door, followed by a strange cry that reverberated

  in the room. Eric charged forward immediately. Somehow it seemed impossible to him that more than one of the aliens had gotten into the transmitter room. The hatch had not opened since he had arrived.

  Without using any particular tactic, he threw himself at the spot where the flash had occurred, although the cry had ceased. He collided with something soft and yielding. He couldn't see anything but something was there between him and the wall by the door.

  He tried to grasp it and although he touched the unseen creature his fingers slipped off of it. As the phantom thing sought to elude him he aimed his fist at a place which would have been the solar plexus of an ordinary man. There was no resulting sound nor did it seem to have any effect on the alien. He slipped out of Eric's hands and he had to resort to his weapon again.

  This time he knew exactly where to aim. With a light pressure of his finger he changed the focus of the beam and fired. This time a fine, brilliant green needle of energy shot from the muzzle.

  Eric had expected the effect of the disintegrator to be greater than before but he wasn't prepared for what happened then.

  Something exploded in front of him with a thunderous roar. He was struck by a wave of highly compressed air and he was thrown to one side. A brilliant flash blinded him in the midst of an echoing loud cry. He landed against the wall and slid to the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of him so that he lay there with colored lights dancing in front of his eyes while he tried to regain his strength.

  It was then that he saw the alien. The devastating shot had caused his screen to break down, or at least it had weakened it considerably. What Eric could see was anything but clear and definite. Either the stranger's screen was still partially working or Eric's vision hadn't quite recovered yet.

  It was hardly more than a shadow. As it moved swiftly across the room, Eric could not make out any definite shape to it. It was just a constant flowing and gliding apparition. In a second or so it reached the wall by the door where Eric had nailed it before. For just an instant he saw the thing silhouetted in a blue-white shimmering light - and then it vanished.

  There could be no doubt that it had exited the room in a way that was normal for its kind - through the solid wall.

  Breathing heavily, Eric got to his feet. It was clear to him that he had missed his mark. The alien had gotten away. But if he were capable of understanding Terran technology, then he would know what the two grid cabinets were used for. And of course he'd report this to his companions. They would come here and want to use the transmitters for their own purposes.

  Eric decided that he could not allow it to happen. He and his men needed the equipment for themselves. So he resolved to remain on board the BOB 21.

  5/ THE NIGHTMARE SHIP

  Two by two the crewmen of the BOB 21 arrived on board the waiting "factory" cruiser. 24 men were received through the transmitter but for the time being the 25th man was missing.

  This caused Nike Quinto to convert his plans into action as soon as possible.

  As he figured it, if the question concerning a "true life form" indicated that the signaler was a robot, then there was only one practical way of confronting such entities: you sent a robot to face them. He felt that the alien questioner had wanted to know if they were also robots or some kind of organic life form.

  He had to admit, however, that there were probably 3 dozen other explanations which could be as valid as this one. Yet this was the only direction he could take effectively and in a hurry. So he grasped the one opportunity out of 3 dozen rather than stand idle and allow them all to be lost.

  On board the Joann there was only one action-ready robot: Meech Hannigan. It was a strange irony of fate, however, that Meech happened to be provided with a human like covering of synthetic flesh and skin tissues which were in a sense alive and therefore made him actually unsuitable for the mission, in spite of his real body of plastic metal and positronic circuits. No one, not even another robot, would have taken Meech for a robot. He was simply too human in his appearance.

  Of course this wasn't too much of an obstacle for Nike Quinto, and anyway he didn't intend to send Meech alone on his journey. His companion would be a human, but one who would be disguised for the mission. In fact Quinto also had a disguise prepared for Meech himself. This consisted of a sort of metallic armor which was not unlike a suit of mail such as had been used on Earth in medieval times. The main difference was that various outer details had been designed so that its wearer would look less like a knight but more like a genuine robot.

  Meech's companion in arms was to be Ron Landry, and he was provided with the same kind of camouflage. After donning the metal suit he could only be distinguished from Meech by the number on the headplate of his helmet. This was also for realism because naturally robots were numbered. But the history of Meech Hannigan was to be recorded henceforth in the annals of the Terran spacefleet as "the case of the robot disguised as a robot"—even though at the moment, considering the uncertainty of the situation, nobody felt overly disposed to laughter.

  Without further delay, Ron and Meech prepared to leave, both of them armed to the teeth. The transmitter receivers on board the BOB 21 were remotely activated. The Joann 's instruments indicated that the station's equipment was still in order. So Ron and Meech took the leap. So far, there was still no trace of Eric Furchtbar.

  • • •

  The two adventurers arrived without hindrance in the BOB 21's transmitter room, which they found to be empty. However, there was an odor in the air that hinted of a short-circuit somewhere. It was a stench of burned or melted insulation.

  Before leaving the Joann , Ron had gotten a short report of what happened in the generator room. He knew about Eric Furchtbar's strange success with his hand disintegrator after the much heavier thermo beamers had proven themselves completely ineffective. Thus he followed the same plan of action which Eric had used but minutes before. He placed his back to both transmitter cages so that they wouldn't be damaged, and then swept the room with a fanned out disintegrator beam.

  The general effect was zero. Judging by what information he had so far, this meant that no one was in the room except the two of them. Ron was disappointed. He had hoped to either find Eric Furchtbar here, or one of the invisibles. When he had learned that Eric hadn't arrived on board the Joann he had assumed that he had remained behind in order to guard the transmitters.

  It had seemed to be a logical conclusion. Even if the phantoms had located Eric here and done away with him, then at least one of their kind should have been here.

  But now Ron realized that his reasoning had been false. He ordered Meech to open the hatch door. Meech complied and stepped outside halfway into the corridor. Nothing happened. He looked to the right and the left of him and also checked his surroundings with all of his superhuman sensor equipment. In the end he reported to Ron that the "coast" was clear.

  After finding the transmitter room empty, the place Ron was most interested in was the main control room of the station. He and Meech were well acquainted with the layout of the BOB 21, so they had no difficulty in finding their way. The only question was whether or not the invisible aliens would let them get that far.

  They went along the passage to one of the antigrav shafts. Meech had taken the lead in accordance with the trad
itional rules of the spacefleet. Whenever robots took part on a mission" they formed the advance guard and fought in the most dangerous positions. Meech was no exception but he wasn't sensitive about it. His positronic program didn't provide for such a reaction.

  They drifted cautiously up the shaft to the central deck. Everywhere in the station was the same echoing emptiness, the same deadly and uncanny silence. Like in a tomb, Ron thought uneasily. A tomb that was 5000 light years out from the rim of the Milky Way. The phantoms had to be somewhere!

  Perhaps they were below in the power room, he thought fleetingly. They had been trying to do something with the generators. He recalled Art Cavanaugh's hasty report. The Com Room had been supplied with more power than the equipment then in operation had been able to stand. Maybe all the aliens had really wanted to do was provide themselves with more power, without knowing how the equipment functioned. If the attack in the Com Room were correctly analyzed, what it amounted to that they had already sent out one quick radio message, possibly a distress call. It could be that they were trying to do it again only this time with maximum transmitting power.

  But it could also be that this guess missed the mark by a long shot. Maybe they needed the tremendous output for an entirely different reason. Art Cavanaugh had said that most of the equipment had been intact when he left the Com Room. Otherwise, under the mighty full power load they would have long since gone up in smoke. This indicated that the additional current was being tapped off and conducted to some unknown place.

  But where? - and to what purpose?