by K. H. Scheer
In contrast to the commonly known equipment used for hypno-suggestion and training, the so-called activator bell was designed differently. It did not have to transfer any items of knowledge into the subconscious or the relatively involuntary centres of memory. Its purpose was to awaken a certain dormant sector of the brain which was present in almost all Arkonides and this was done in the course of a 5th-dimensional energy-tension process.
In the case of the Ark Summia recipient this did not happen like turning on a switch for receptivity to all sorts of outer impressions. Instead, the long-unused brain sector was excited by the 5-D impulses to reawaken. Our experts in the parasciences had determined thousands of years ago that this fragment of the brain—the so-called logic sector—had “operated” independently in ancient times. It had been an integral part of animal instinct and other known primeval characteristics such as the pronounced sense of smell and abilities like precognition and the natural alertness to danger, as well as an awareness of things unrelated to previous experience, which could only be overcome or brought under control by the unconscious intervention of a logical evaluating process.
Not all of these lost faculties could be reactivated but a fractional portion was capable of being regenerated. It had to do with the logical comprehension of all types of sensory data and information. Our experts were convinced that this ability had originally been the most valuable. To this we probably owed our ascent from a Stone Age existence to a highly technological civilization.
The theory itself was somewhat questionable but there could be no doubt about the existence of a dormant brain sector. This had been proved by those who had received the Ark Summia. Arkonides having access to this sector, once activated, had a great advantage over their contemporaries. They could understand and grasp events of all kinds with a swiftness that was considerably superior to other people. For example, scientists with an activated logic sector could demonstrate much better results than their “normal” colleagues. Fleet commanders with a completed Ark Summia were almost invincible. They could calculate faster and more logically.
It was quite clear to me why Fratulon placed such great value on the reawakening of my extra brain. But to what purpose? How was I, the perennially pursued one, to ever be in a position where I might use this magnificent gift to advantage? How was I to ever become a noted scientist, economic expert or statesman when even a man of Fratulon’s high intelligence had been under the greatest pains for 18 years now to shield me from my pursuers?Something seemed to me to be illogical about his intentions. I had only been able to restrain my growing impatience because instinct had always told me to hold off, to wait and see. After all, Fratulon was not one of those Arkonides who set things in motion without good cause.
By now I had been lying almost 5 hours on the couch. I had heard nothing other than a continuous humming plus the occasional murmur of voices from attending scientists. We Hertasoes had imagined the most fantastic things about the activating process but those who really knew had only smiled in silence. I had more or less expected a sudden flaring up of long unknown mental forces, to the accompaniment of ethereal voices and soft music, but nothing of the sort had happened. Whatever the activation bell was radiating was inaudible, impalpable and optically invisible.
Hadn’t this logic sector always been talked about? As Arkonides we had always dreamed of being among those who could be awakened. But if I had thought that in a few hours I was going to be transformed into a mental genius who could handle in his head mathematical problems of the kind that were normally fed into robot brains, I was mistaken.
I was disappointed, in fact extremely so. Something, no matter what—but something should have happened at least, more or less as a sign of a resulting change of some kind. When I turned my eyes upward so far that they began to pain me, I could just see Tirako Gamno. He was still standing behind the radiation shielding.
At last it was over with.
The scientists appeared within my restricted field of vision. The humming stopped and the big bell-shaped hood swung to one side. The metal clamps gripping my skull were released and I was carefully brought to a sitting position.
“How do you feel, Excellency? Nausea? Giddiness? Is your vision clear?”Oh, so now I was already being addressed as nobility! Indeed I felt well and I expressed as much.
“Amazing!” they exclaimed, praisingly. “We only know of a few cases in the long history of the Ark Summia where a recipient…”
Somebody had activated the door, causing it to glide upwards before I could be questioned. My treatment was at an end. The scientist, a paraphysicist, stopped in mid-sentence, listening to sounds from outside. Tirako and I had also heard the loud voice of Admiral Tormanac. In fact now he was shouting. Then there was a shot. The roar of the high-powered beam was unmistakable.
“No one may enter the activating room!” I heard Tormanac bellowing. “I don’t care what your orders are or by what authority you are here—I must insist that you leave at once! Even the Imperial Secret Police.”
It told me enough. Tormanac was trying to warn me or he would never have raised his voice to this extent. Tirako acted swiftly. He knew as well as I did that it was no longer possible to get out by way of the main steel door. The ISP were there—the bounty hunters and executioners of the Imperial Secret Police. These men had far-reaching authority which even a man of Tormanac’s stature could not obstruct for long.
“Where’s the rear exit?” asked Tirako sharply, weapon in hand. “Don’t ask any questions! This is an assassination attempt!”
I didn’t wait for the flustered scientist to answer. I ran to the assistant who had obsequiously opened the vault-like steel door. Before that door was the last security chamber with the defensive battery of weapons. I shoved the elderly man to one side and pressed the closure button of the meter-thick door. While it closed slowly I saw the agents of the ISP pushing into the outer room!
They were notorious for their unscrupulous methods and their highly technological systems of interrogation. Ever since Orbanashol III had been in power, the ISP had risen tremendously in the scope of its authority.
I pulled the protesting scientist back with me a few paces and then jerked up my left arm. My two middle fingers touched the firing button on the ball of my thumb. Since the Luccot sling had been de-safetied, the barrel snapped out of my sleeve almost simultaneously with the shot. The beam of energy struck the closure circuit of the door just as it closed, creating an explosion that damaged the switch and effectively sealed the entrance.
The ISP had arrived a few minutes too late. Apparently Tormanac had managed to hold off the police commandos as long as was necessary.
“Tirako,” I called to my friend, “the exit door is there to your right behind that control board!”
He moved with surprising swiftness. He was already opening the normal-sized door and looking beyond it as I ran through the large chamber. Behind the main steel door I could hear a fusillade of powerful weapons. If they sought to break down the Arkon steel barrier by force they would be faced with a problem. Such ponderous material didn’t melt down too easily.
I arrived at the exit door and saw a passage beyond it.“Where now?” inquired Tirako. “I guess you know we won’t get out of this trap unless somebody’s stationed some helping forces here.”
That was also my one hope. If I had been given a half-hour lead time I’d have been safely out of the Clinic and away but now this situation seemed to be hopeless.
I ran down the passage with Tirako behind me. The corridor branched out before us but the lighted letters which gave us directions were a big relief.
“Turn left to the transmitter room!” panted Tirako. “If we can reach it and if we…”
He was silenced by the thunder of a salvo of shots. Apparently a battle was going on ahead of us. Since I couldn’t imagine any resistance on the part of the uninformed scientists against the invading ISP forces, I had to conclude that Admiral Tormanac had also posted
a few sentinels here as well. They certainly must have received some very special orders.
We proceeded once more. The corridors seemed to be endless. The farther we went the louder became the sounds of battle. They seemed to come from the direction of the transmitter room. Gradually it was getting hotter. To the bedlam was added the shrieking and whistling of fire alarms. Somewhere ahead they were duelling with high-energy weapons and the rising temperature was an unavoidable consequence.
Before us was another heavy door constructed of Arkon steel. Just as I was about to press the unlocking switch, the massive portal swung open by itself. Somebody must have seen us just in time over the closed-circuit video system. A loudspeaker crackled to life nearby. I could not recognize the voice but its owner knew my real name.
“At last I found you, Atlan! You can’t come this way any more without a protective suit. Don’t bother to try—get to the main transmitter room. You’ll find a 3-man sending chamber marked #5. It’s been programmed for you. The energy cage is activated and shows a violet signal light. Get through the antechamber and use the right-hand door. If you go left you’ll come to us. We’ve barricaded ourselves in the armoured foyer. The heat’s at 3,600 Fahrenheit, so watch it, Atlan! Even our suits’ heat screens can’t hold up much longer. Go to the right and…”
Another thunderous salvo was heard. The man who had been instructing me failed to answer my repeated shouts into the wall microphone. The ISP were using modern repeater Luccots with a capacity of 50 shots per second. Without special protection it was no longer possible to remain alive in the armoured antechamber.
The automatic fire-fighting system had been operating for several minutes but if there was much more shooting this whole building would go up in flames. Which seemed to be immaterial to the ISP commander.
We went through the armoured bulkhead hatchway and found even here that the temperature was considerable. I knew nothing of the safety setup in this part of the building, even from hearsay. It must have been excellent, however, or the continuous release of nuclear energies would have reduced the structures to ashes by now. Also, even in the relatively less important areas than the Para-Clinic it was customary to use energy screens and armoured access doors, especially where the transmitter rooms were concerned.While I activated the unlocking mechanism of the unfamiliar door I had been directed to, Tirako closed the main entrance hatch. He was about to destroy the switch mechanism but prudently changed his mind. It was hot enough in here already.
My flowing robes got in my way. They reached almost to the floor and hindered my freedom of movement. I looked cautiously beyond the door that glided upward before me. There was a giant hall. It was a special transmitter room of the Clinic. By the varying sizes of the installations here I realized that one could even undertake major transferences here to other planets. Which explained the elaborate security arrangements. Because of the Methane War, long-distance transmitters were especially guarded.
“Anybody here?” asked Tirako. He seemed to be the personification of self-composure.I shook my head and stepped aside to let him in, after which I closed the entrance by a touch of a button. “Destroy that locking mechanism on the double!” I urged him. “We have to protect ourselves from that direction. Use a needle beam.”
I hurried on into the great chamber and searched for the #5 transmitter, which was a 3-man sender. Behind me I heard the roar of Tirako’s beam shot. For a fraction of a second the hall was bathed in blinding light. A hot shockwave reached me but it died swiftly because here there were enough cold air masses to quickly absorb the nuclear heat.
I found #5 far away in a remote corner. Above the cage-like dematerialiser blinked a violet signal light. The apparatus had actually been programmed and was ready for a transmission. This could only have been prepared by men who saw themselves engaged in a hopeless battle against insuperable odds. Why had they done this? Only because they had received special instructions to do so— perhaps from Tormanac? Or were there still more profound reasons behind this whole thing?
I did not have time to carry through my train of thought. About 20 meters away from us the rematerializing field of a larger transmitter flashed to life. This apparatus was capable of handling 5 men at once. I caught sight of dark-red uniforms—the hated colour of the feared ISP! The filigree of shimmering lines solidified and the transmitted men became stabilized in the flesh.
They were wearing combat spacesuits but had not yet been able to activate their individual defence screens because such was not possible during a transmitter transference. Tirako yelled something unintelligible but it didn’t matter since he also opened fire at the same moment. I also fired. The Luccot sling performed admirably although I could only aim by means of my outstretched arm. Since it was set on a wide beam, my aim didn’t matter. Its effect was destructive enough. The bodies inside the transmitter cage seemed to break into flames and collapse; however, one of the intruders managed to put up a defence.A rapid repeater salvo slammed past me, causing a switchboard behind me to explode. Glowing white metal and plastic fragments sprayed far and wide. I crouched behind the cover of a converter, which was the only thing that saved me from the deadly shower.
“Are you hit?” yelled Tirako.
My answer was a well-aimed shot at the adjustment switch on the receiver cage. It shattered in a display of fireworks. The transmitter’s shadowy energy field collapsed and disappeared. A wave of heat swept through the vast chamber. No more shooting could occur in here or we’d be sacrificing ourselves also to a flaming death.
A quick glance around convinced me that the other transport equipment was not turned on. No secret police could find access through them. Tirako was already standing beside the grid cage of #5. He stood outside the red danger circle but seemed to be quite familiar with the instrument readings.
I ran over to the 5-man machine that the ISP men had just attempted to use, hoping to pick up one of their heavy weapons. I didn’t succeed, however, because the robot-guided air-conditioning system went into emergency action and turned on the automatic fire extinguishers. A white foam rained down from the ceiling onto the burning transmitter. It covered the corpses as well as their weapons. Here and there a glowing flame licked outward from the smouldering apparatus.
“Get back—you’re risking your life!” shouted Tirako. “Those beam guns can explode if the extinguishers don’t work fast enough!”
I followed his advice and quickly joined him. In this area the heat was not so unbearable.
“The Luccot sling isn’t enough for this kind of combat,” I said, hurriedly. “The barrel snaps back into place after each shot.”
“Maybe you won’t have to use it much longer, if at all.”
He pointed to the control panel of #5 but it was a gesture of despair. I also noted that the controls were not equipped with an automatic timing release. This equipment had to be operated from the nearby control station but the crew had disappeared. I ran to the station room and peered through the armour-plastic window. Then I opened the steel door. There was no one to be seen. Suddenly Tirako was standing beside me. I thought swiftly. Unexpectedly, something happened that made me start in alarm. Mistaking my action, Tirako dropped to the floor, simultaneously turning with his weapon, ready to fire.
“No, no! Nobody’s coming—not yet!” I protested. “We still have a few minutes. But Tirako—my head…!”He got up and helped support me. I heard hi in gasp in his excitement. “What do you feel? An impulse? Atlan, remember the activation! It’s becoming effective, perhaps faster than expected. The pressure of events…”
“I know, I know!” I interrupted him. “Please be quiet!”
I virtually listened to myself inwardly. Then I caught another whisper of that eerie voice. It was as though some invisible entity were speaking directly into my ears. Still, it was not acoustical in its nature. It was more like a telepathic communication that came from the depths of my subconscious mind.
Unconscious of speaking aloud, I ask
ed questions, while Tirako grasped my arm.
Listen to the shots, the sounds of battle! something whispered to me. It could only be my activated logic sector. That means you still have friends who are alive. Get them, rescue them! Somebody has to operate the controls! Thus ended the first communication of my awakened extra-brain.
“Fantastic!” whispered Tirako in utter fascination. “That’s out of this world!”
“How did you know…”
“You spoke aloud, repeating what it said! Somebody is still trying to save our necks! Of course there’s shooting outside! How come I didn’t think of it?”
I began to move with the quickness of a robot, at the same time sensing a complete inward calm. Was this also attributable to the activated sector of my brain? “Tirako, cover me. Behind us there’s only one door—the one we came through. The main entrance is here, through the control room—our last chance for operating this equipment! I’ll fetch that man who’s still fighting outside.”
“You’ll be burned to a crisp!”
Wordlessly I pointed to a large wall cabinet I hadn’t noted before. In it were heavy protective spacesuits. Suddenly I was seeing my surroundings with other eyes. Tirako helped me into the combat suit. It was equipped with a heavy-duty power supply that was capable of generating an effective high-tension defence screen. It could shield me from temperatures as high as 5400 Fahrenheit.
Passing through the control room, I jerked open the steel door at the rear. Behind it was a short passage lined with armour plating. It ended at a radiation-shielded lock door, behind which we could still hear the sounds of combat.
The ceiling can be broken through, came the subtle whisper from my inner brain.I started anew but this time I didn’t waste time on superfluous conjectures. The logic sector appeared to have the ability to announce itself independently of the conscious will.