by K. H. Scheer
I heard a weak cry, as though for help. After a few leaps upward among the rocks I came upon my friend, Tirako Gamno. And naturally he neither carried a weapon nor wore a combat spacesuit. How could he have survived the ammonia cavern without protection?
He was close to unconsciousness when I bent down and grasped him, raising him up. His normally lean and sensitive face seemed drawn and marked by the agonies he had gone through. He groaned and whimpered at the same time.
I didn’t say much. In fact I completely forgot that this was a merely simulated mission. Suddenly I seemed to be actually on a world that was occupied by the enemy. I opened the first-aid compartment of my combat suit and administered what had been provided for such cases as Tirako’s. He had to be stabilized and given artificial stimulation.There were many drugs of this kind. They produced truly miraculous effects in terms of physiological intensity but a relapse later was practically inevitable. Any intelligent person avoided them yet there were situations like this where they were indispensable. So I set the indicator of the high-pressure hypodermic to the desired medical selection and then pressed the release button.
Tirako regained consciousness. He must have heard me while in a semi-coma and called out to me. Suddenly his eyes regained their clarity and his strength came back. A weak smile appeared on his lips.
“My hero!” he exclaimed. “Naturally you made the grade—the combat spacesuit and the Luccot—everything accounted for!” He coughed and his face twisted painfully.
I looked about us and saw that we were surrounded by marshy terrain. Here and there the swamp gases boiled up through pools of muck. Animal cries reached our ears out of the wilderness.
Tirako’s condition was clearing up as the drugs took effect. “The only way through is by water, my friend! I’ve had a look around. The land is nothing but a bottomless morass. And I almost got eaten up by some kind of a monster. But what would one expect? I’ve made a disaster out of this test, ever since I started.”
“Don’t be silly!” I said, appeasing him. “I’ll take you with me. Somehow we’ll make it.”
“What did you inject me with, liquid fire? Oh well, to me it should make no difference. I didn’t get lucky like you. I wasn’t able to get the best of that wild-eyed stranger. How did you do it?”
When I explained it to him briefly he nodded in resignation. “Yes, that’s the way we should handle ourselves. The candidates ahead of me appear to have come through all right. At least I haven’t seen any of them. That clever android seems to be used each time, wouldn’t you say? The same play on psychology. But you see I don’t fit into anybody’s normal psychology. I just got scared and ran from him. That is, I noticed him sooner than you did.”
“What?”
He laughed, apparently fully revived. “You can bet on it! I considered him to be a serious threat, so to me the better part of valour was to make myself scarce. So I ran to the boat and pulled away even before the personnel glider had properly taken off. I was able to get away with it because I loused up their planning—as I figured. The stranger wasn’t supposed to show up that soon. But what looked so smart at the time turned out to be dumb—right?”
I nodded but realized that Tirako’s reaction was only one among many others that were conceivable. It was possible that some Hertasoes might have even attacked the armed “deserter” with their bare fists, which would have been the most stupid alternative of all. In such cases they would hardly have been able to get beyond the starting point. Where were they now?
Tirako stood up and stretched himself. “I think I’m ready for duty again, my friend. Of course I’ll be a pain in the neck. As a brother of the exams I’ve blown my chances for the Ark Summia by acting so stupidly—so you should leave me behind. Somebody’s bound to pick me up.”I waved off the suggestion and took another look around us. “How were you able to get through the ammonia cave?” I inquired at the same time.
“I figured you’d ask me that. I don’t have the slightest idea, friend. I thought I was a goner and I held my breath as long as possible. It was horrible. Then the lights went out for me. I don’t know how I ever got to this river bank.”
I watched him closely as he nodded thoughtfully and then snapped his fingers. “OK, I know what you want to say before you say it,” he continued. “Somebody must have helped me or I’d have never made it this far. Could be. It looks like they don’t let the candidates die, after all. But a lot of good that does me! I’ve piled up so many minus points by now, my chances are gone. But if you keep going with your excellent score, this river stint will probably be your first and last test!”
“Impossible!” I retorted.
He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him in a friendly manner. “Either way, you can make it. Each of us needs 10,000 plus points to win the Ark Summia. The number of tests is not important but no candidate is allowed more than 5 starts. If he gets his points on the first run, he may not have to try again. So you really have very good prospects.”
He laughed but went into a new attack of coughing, which made him bend over. This enabled him to snatch the ultra-vibe knife from the sheath on my right leg. He was fast—in fact very fast!
But I was even faster! My heavy elbow jab sent him tumbling backwards and I was able to spring away. I could hear the high-pitched hum of the vibe-knife’s blade. He had already regained his balance and leapt at me with the vibrating blade swinging like an arc of light.
I shot from the hip. The bluish-white beam of energy struck him in his midriff and its hefty impact whirled him to one side. A second shot finished him off.
The body was encased in flames in which the alleged Tirako Gamno screamed his last. Most of the android composition fell into ashes. I dodged the superheated air in his vicinity to retrieve the vibro knife, which he had dropped.
The unburned remains of the body convinced me that I’d really been dealing with a synthetic entity made of bio-tissue and robot parts. I had foreseen as much!
Whoever had used my deep affection for Tirako as bait for the trap had overlooked a few minor details. For one thing, Tirako never snapped his fingers. They had also failed to have him gripe about the examination methods and principles, which he would have started in on first of all—I could guarantee it. The last point but the most decisive one was the shoulder hug. The android had demonstrated more strength there than Tirako’s more delicate frame was capable of. So the attack had by no means surprised me.I laughed. The lofty Lords of the Inner Circle were clever but so far they had not been able to trap me into a really serious difficulty.
What had become of the real Tirako Gamno? I was quite certain that the android had spoken the truth when he had described Tirako’s test start— meaning of course the Faehrl instructor who had been imitating him through the radio speaker system.
Judging by that, Tirako wasn’t doing so well. Where was he? He had to be somewhere close by.
6/ THE INNER CIRCLE PLAYS FOR KEEPS!
I finally found him on the other side of the river. His adventure had been just as depicted by the android. He had actually fled from the “deserter”. He had also come through the ammonia tunnel but had evidently been saved. In contrast to the boat of his imitator, his own craft was still completely intact. I had gotten him onto his feet with the rest of my medical supplies. And now the crosscurrents and the surf-like water barrier lay before us.Tirako was crestfallen. He knew that he had been disqualified. I knew it, too, but I kept silent about it. He was a man of mentality, a youngster who would prefer a sharp conversation anytime to a sword fight. Why didn’t they give him a chance where his talents could be effective?
I had decided to take him with me. I wanted to spare him the disgrace—if that’s what it was—of being picked up by a rescue detail of the Inner Circle. When I told him of my plan, he smiled, understanding my motive at once.
“That can chalk up some minus points for you, Macolon! Don’t forget you’ve made an emergency landing and have to carry through
in accordance with all its pertinent priorities. Since I’m no trained animal that can jump through hoops and give you support when occasion demands, I’d say your decision… Oh, excuse me, I guess I got to you with that unconsidered comparison. Of course I don’t think we’re either trained freaks or animals…”
I laughed since this was typical of Tirako’s sensitivities. “Forget it, chum! It’s too bad that you aren’t the Imperator. Probably then the Methane War would soon be brought to an end.”
“Don’t be heretical. Orbanashol is irreproachable and infallible in his decisions. Glory to him forever!” He coughed then and looked across at the water barrier.
I took out the micro-recorder from a leg pocket in the suit. It was standard equipment like the vibe-knife. True to my simulated role I spoke into the tape: “Macolon, Commander of heavy cruiser Argosso, logging the following data for future reference: Having been provided with a special mission ship for infiltrating enemy planet Largamenia, I succeeded in landing here after receiving damaging fire while entering atmosphere. I must reach the secret depot of the Fleet. While en route to destination I have discovered Orbton Tirako Gamno, officer of scouting cruiser Takatika, who has been missing for weeks. He was formerly under my command on several occasions and is thus to be classified as reliable and trustworthy. I have decided to place this officer in service as related to present objectives. He is hereby under orders to support me at risk of his life with the objective of reaching the depot at all costs. This has become necessary in the interests of the landing fleet now waiting in outer space. Long live Arkon! End of notation.”
Tirako stared at me. I grinned.
If the scoring evaluations of my test mission were really being handled on a fully positronic basis, the calculators could not help but recognize my reasoning as a plus factor. It was obvious that two people could reach the hidden goal sooner than one. Incorruptible logic machines would have to arrive at such a conclusion!“One might think you were the offspring of a galactic schemer,” said Tirako suggestively.
But the remark hit me sharply. I must have glared at him almost threateningly. Against my will I was forced to think again of my mysterious origin, of my guardian and teacher, the so-called “sawbones”, Fratulon, of my friend Ice Claw and, above all, of Farnathia, the enchanting daughter of the Tatto of Gortavor.
There I had spent the major portion of my childhood and adolescence—until Sofgart the Blind and his mercenary bounty hunters, the Kralasenes, appeared on the scene and shattered my last idyll. Farnathia, my first and only love—where might she be now? What had they done to her? Could I even dream that she still lived?
I heard Tirako’s voice as though from a great distance. “Friend, you’re trembling! Have I offended you? My remark was ill considered and impertinent. Forgive me.”
I shook away the haunting memories of the past. Tirako was genuinely concerned. He reproached himself without suspecting that he had touched old wounds of the spirit.
I punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I should have your worries!” I laughed. “Come on, it’s time! We’re going to have to get past that water trap.”
“How and what with? You mean in that tissue-paper boat? Out of the question! Not even a giant could propel it through those currents or force a way through those pounding breakers!”
Normally he was a keen observer but sometimes the more practical things seemed to escape him. How was it he had missed seeing the gunfire marks a few boat lengths above and beyond our position? Within a short distance of the energy burn, down on the bank, a few bushes had evidently been charred. The singed line of the raybeam shot was hardly discernible since the thick vegetation had already closed over most of it.
I checked my weapon and set the beam focus on medium width, after which I strode onward without a word. Naturally nobody could row against that synthetically generated wall of water! The Masters of the Inner Circle knew it also. What deductions could be made from this by an aspirant for the Ark Summia?
I had to find something which in any case had to be there. Hadn’t they also sought to provide a combat spacesuit? Tests of this nature were classified as out of the ordinary. But anyone who didn’t pay attention to them would never pass. I suspected—no, as a matter of fact I knew—what the Inner Circle expected of us! Reason and intelligence must dominate, even though of course under conditions of high personal risk.“Macolon…!”
The cry had no vital note of alarm. However, I turned swiftly and raised the weapon to firing position.
Tirako Gamno had wanted to follow me but he couldn’t. I noticed to my amazement that he was pushing against an invisible barrier which seemed to be highly stable yet very elastic. He threw himself forward and pressed his shoulder against an invisible something that was in his way but he did not manage to progress a single step farther. Then—a miracle! I heard my aesthetic friend curse like an old-time space soldier.
I couldn’t refrain from guffawing at him.
Tirako gave up. I knew I’d not forget his reproachful expression for a long time to come. “Go ahead—laugh!” he scolded me. “It’s bad enough to suffer humiliation without having it advertised, as well. What the devil is this?”
“Ask the ancient gods!” I exclaimed, still laughing. “Where’s your schooling in hyper-physics? That’s a high-power flexible energy field, my friend!”
“Oh…!”
He grasped very quickly that somebody considered his further progress here to be undesirable. I also perceived the purpose of the measure they had taken. My little trick with the recorder statement had probably been very effective where the robot evaluator was concerned but the secret observers on the Testing Committee were not quite in agreement.
They had long since written off Tirako Gamno as a contender for the final award. They wanted to see how I continued to handle myself. Since it was possible Tirako might notice some things that could still escape my attention, they were giving us to understand that he had to remain where he was. Very well! The situation was beginning to intrigue me.
“Orbton Tirako Gamno!” I called to him. “You are hereby ordered to remain here to guard the boats! I’ll reconnoitre ahead on my own. You cover the rear as may be necessary.”
“Yes, Your Eminence!” he confirmed resignedly. “I understand.”
I found it quite pleasurable to be able to carry on a little psychological game with the observers. At the moment they were probably struggling with a few more problems than I was! Even they could not lose sight of the automatic evaluators. My instructions to Tirako would garner me still a few more plus points because it must be obvious to a robot observer that it’s only proper for a scout to leave a sentinel behind him! After all, both of the boats were irreplaceable.
I went onward. The ray weapon rested in the crook of my arm—ready to fire.
* * * *
The outer lock door of the armoured glider stood open. Its engines weren’t functioning any more. The vehicle was designed for missions inside a planetary atmosphere but now it was stuck in the morass clear up to its deck frame.The marsh was very extensive and deep. The farther I ventured into the wilderness the more of an effort it had been to pull my boots out of the cloying mess of mud. Which was again an indication to me that there was no way around the water barrier.
Finally I had come upon the armoured glider. It was of Arkonide design, intended for commando missions in otherwise impassable terrain. I knew these ROTCO-19 models were not capable of flight nor were they equipped with antigrav projectors which could have made a person weightless. Mobile equipment like this was supposed to be light, manoeuvrable and fast. In the interests of such performance characteristics the craft had also been denied even an emergency caterpillar drive, common to most equipment of this nature. The ROTCO series basically utilized natural planetary atmosphere, compressing it and creating a supporting medium based on the old “aircushion” principle. If the technically simple and fairly trouble-free turbo-compressors were damaged or their vital air in
takes were put out of commission, this kind of vehicle was no longer usable. It simply ceased to operate.
And such seemed to be the case with the armoured “cushion” glider before me. The tiny energy tracer in my suit had not made a peep, which was a sign that the craft’s nuclear power system was not functioning. The glider had the appearance of a shell, whereby the two oval half-shells were fastened facing each other. The smooth upper surface was only interrupted by an armoured rotating turret which contained a small impulse-cannon.
There were no signs of the crew anywhere around. The craft gave every appearance of having been here in the muggy heat of the jungle for a long time. Of course the outer hull of Arkon steel was undamaged and free of rust. Almost all effects of the environment were resisted by these bombardment-proof molecularly-bonded alloys.
I plodded over the muddy ground, cautiously approaching it. I knew that this hovercraft had its purpose here. The test candidates had to locate it as a part of the plan. Otherwise no hint would have been given back there on the riverbank, however faint. It was clear to me now why somebody had singed some of the undergrowth there.
Until now I had failed to notice a rounded nacelle behind the gun turret, which obviously contained a turbine jet engine. Of course that kind of equipment also utilized the natural atmosphere for its operation. Deriving a thrust on a similar compression principle, the jet served to provide forward motion, once the craft was riding on its air cushion. The heating of the compressed gases, whatever their composition or chemical nature, was accomplished atomically in the plasma burner of the turbo-compression chamber. It was a crude but practical means of propulsion.I took a good look at the jet exhaust area which had been discoloured by the highly heated gases. All indications were that the engine had not been in use for a long time. My first idea as to the probable hidden purpose of the armoured vehicle’s presence here had been that perhaps I was supposed to dismount the jet and reinstall it on the rowboat as a powerful means of propulsion through the water barrier. However, a further brief inspection convinced me that this particular type of jet had no independent emergency energy generator, such as a micro-reactor, for example. The gas mixture drawn in by the turbine could therefore be heated only by the ship’s larger installation. Without the pre-heating stage there could be no expansion and hence no thrust.