#58 - Attack from the Unseen

by Clark Darlton

  Rouse nodded slowly. It was precisely the question he had asked himself. "It’s long past midnight by local time. In almost all the houses the lights are on full blast, just as if it were only around 9 in the evening. And it’s a worse case farther east where it’s more like 4 in the morning and they’re still all lit up. Yep, it gets curiouser and curiouser…"

  When it came to being venturesome, Cadet Becker was not to be outdone by his superior officer. "Well, if we were to make a landing down there, maybe we could—"

  Rous answered somewhat undecided: "We aren’t cleared to do that, Becker. We’re not permitted to act on our own. And if we did we’d carry the responsibility for the whole crew. If something happened…"

  "So what could happen?" asked Becker, giving him the moral support he had hoped for. "We haven’t anything to fear from the inhabitants here, certainly, who haven’t even got energy weapons. And as far as an alleged invasion by an unknown enemy is concerned… well, so far I haven’t been able to see any signs of it."

  Rous was obviously hesitant. "I don’t know. Maybe I’d better make contact with the Drusus and try to get permission for a landing…"

  "Whatever you think, sir," said Becker somewhat formally, as though he was offended. "Anyway, I’m convinced that they won’t grant you permission. The chief doesn’t go for unnecessary risks, except when he takes them himself."

  "Hm-m-m," murmured Rous, who was vacillating between duty and temptation.

  Fortunately he was interrupted in his deliberations. From the loudspeaker came the voice of David Stern, who was on duty in the Com Room of the Drusus "K-7, come in! State your location."

  Rous let out a curse and then activated the transmitter. "Lt. Rous here! I’m on the night side of Mirsal 3."

  "You left your orbit?" was the astonished reply.

  "Yes. We were pursuing an alien ship but lost all visual and instrument contact with it. It must have landed in the city that’s under us now. Should we pursue farther?"

  It took a minute for an answer to return. "You are ordered by Lt.-Col. Sikermann to proceed as follows: you will land in an easily observable place and send out 2 fighting robots with 3 crewmembers. You will personally remain on board the K-7 and take off at the slightest indication of an attack. Is that clear?"

  "And my men?" asked Rous. "I can’t just leave them in the lurch."

  "The ship must not fall into the hands of the enemy! Where your men are concerned, we will take care of that matter."

  "Any further orders?"

  "No, Lt. Rous. Keep in contact with me. That is all. Over and out!"

  Marcel Rous glanced at Cadet Becker, whose eyes were bright with anticipation. "It looks like I drew the short straw, Becker—so that gives you the chance to grab a medal or something. You might even get a promotion. Take 2 men and 2 robots with you—and then you’ve got yourself a furlough in town."

  Minutes later they hovered over a brightly illuminated public square and then descended swiftly. The spherical ship landed gently. Rous had activated every available viewscreen in order to obtain the maximum possible circular perspective of the place. He studied the square and the adjoining houses carefully. Nothing moved. The city actually appeared to be dead. It struck him as odd that there were objects lying around on the uneven pavement which had no business being there. Over there next to the gutter, a broadsword was leaning against the base of a wall. Close by lay a shield. It looked as though a sentry had unburdened himself of these accoutrements in order to take a stroll for himself. A short distance away, Rous saw a collapsed suit of armour that showed signs of having been in a heavy fight.

  Nowhere was there a breath of life. The brightly lit rooms seen through the windows were empty; not a single shadow revealed itself on the light-flooded windowpanes.

  "Ready?" asked the lieutenant.

  The answer came by radio from the airlock. "Cadet Becker with 2 men and 2 robots—ready to begin the mission, sir."

  "Good luck!" replied Rous.

  Becker breathed a sigh of relief, even though his lively sense of adventure of a few moments before had subsided somewhat. But after all, weren’t the 2 heavily armed robots protection enough? They could defend him against a whole company of attacking enemies if need be. And the 2 cadets who accompanied him were not exactly softies. The impulse-beamers lay easily in their hands and revealed not the slightest tremor.

  No, he could rely completely upon his companions.

  The outer hatch of the lock swung open and the ramp glided down to the ground. Becker took the lead, followed by the robots. The 2 other men brought up the rear.

  The silence of the sleeping or murdered city surrounded them. Nothing was to be heard other than the heavy tread of the robots on the stone pavement. Becker felt the fear of the inexplicable rising up within him, threatening to overpower him. The dark sky arched above the bright street lamps, looming like a black hole out of which the foe could strike before he could be detected.

  The foe? What foe? Was there any enemy here at all?

  Becker stayed close to the 2 robots. "You men watch behind us and to both sides," he whispered to the other 2 cadets, who kept their weapons continuously in a fire-ready position. "I’ll concentrate more on what happens ahead and above us."

  The public square was not overly big but it still required almost 2 minutes for them to reach the house fronts. There were many potholes in the street but this was not surprising, considering that the people on Mirsal 3 still lived in the equivalent of the Middle Ages.

  Becker looked about. Not 200 yards distant was the K-7 standing on its telescopic struts. He knew that Lt. Rous was sitting at the viewscreens, watching every move he made. Without doubt his hands were also ready at the fire controls of the heavy rayguns.

  The reassurance of not being alone flooded through Becker like a pleasant balm.

  Purely by chance he caught a shadowy movement out of the corner of his eye and turned around swiftly. It was up there in the 2nd story of one of the houses. The light from the window was not quite as bright as in other places and it even varied its intensity as he watched it. The impression was that someone was going back and forth in front of the light source and blocking it at irregular intervals with his body.

  Becker felt his pulse start to race. This was it—the one special chance of the whole mission! He had to grasp it at any cost!

  "You wait down here," he whispered to his men. Then he looked at one of the robots. "R-2, follow me!"

  "Don’t you think it would be better if…?" one of the other cadets started to say but Becker cut him off.

  "I’m going alone! Why expose all of us to danger at one time?"

  "Becker!" came Marcel Rous’ voice over the radio. In the wrist receiver its volume was not too great. "Be careful!"

  "Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I’ll be on my guard."

  The steps of the staircase creaked protesting under the weight of the robot but Becker didn’t care now. Nothing could hold him back. He had seen something and he was going to find out what it was. Who could be walking back and forth up there in an abandoned city?

  Had one of the inhabitants been left behind?

  Why?

  Becker decided not to indulge in vain attempts to answer senseless questions. He tightened his grip on the butt of his weapon and climbed the stairs behind the robot.

  The door to the 2nd floor apartment was open. The vestibule beyond lay in semi-darkness since only the staircase well had a light.

  No sound was to be heard as the robot halted and waited for Becker.

  But then a door creaked loudly and clearly.

  Becker started at the sound and brought up his gun. It had come from the apartment in question. So someone was there after all. First the alternating light, now the creaking door. This could be no illusion—not now.

  Becker signalled to R-2 and went in ahead. The robot followed cautiously.

  The door of these living quarters had a crude lock that would not have hindered any intrude
r. But the door was already open. Beyond it, Becker now noticed that a 2nd door also stood open. It led into a room that must overlook the square outside. Perhaps to the very window behind which he had seen the moving shadow.

  Becker glided forward until he was close to this latter door. He waited until R-2 had joined him, then kicked the door completely open and entered the lighted room.

  It was empty.

  The window was open just a crack and Becker now became aware of a light draft coming from it, which gently swayed the door behind the robot. The door creaked again.

  At the same time he saw a light curtain wave like a ghost next to the source of fight, which was a night lamp on a table. Nearby were 2 beds. The covers had been pulled off, revealing the clear impression of 2 human bodies. Becker was almost tempted to check with his hands to see if the impressions there were still warm.

  The waving curtain in front of the bed caused the light from the lamp to wax and wane against the window facing the street. The door creaked because of the breeze. The riddle was solved.

  Somewhat disillusioned, the cadet lowered his weapon. He had let himself get all stirred up, like a fool, over a lousy bed curtain.

  "What’s happening?" Marcel Rous’ voice suddenly broke the silence.

  "Everything’s okay," Becker answered curtly, and turned to go. "It was just the wind. These people forgot to close the window before they decided to migrate."

  "Any special observations?"

  Becker took another look around. "No, Lieutenant. Some married couple’s bedroom, very comfortably furnished. I’d like to know where the occupants have gotten to. Their clothes are still hanging over the chairs. They must have been moonstruck and decided to take a trip in their nightgowns."

  "Mirsal 3 doesn’t have a moon," said Rous dryly. "Come on out of there, Becker."

  "I’m coming," replied Becker and he turned again to leave.

  Just as he reached the street below and saw his 2 waiting companions, something happened that he wasn’t able to explain later. But the ‘later’ part for any explaining seemed also problematical.

  At first he saw the spaceship only 200 yards away, brightly illuminated by all the street lamps and the glare of surrounding windows. Then he saw his 2 companions and the waiting robot.

  And in the next moment everything began slowly to disappear before his eyes.

  Becker was brought to an abrupt halt when he noted the change. His robotic companion took no heed of it but simply marched on by. But even as the robot passed, he saw that even it appeared to dissolve into the air.

  He let out a horrified cry that was even heard by Rous. Becker could only hear the voice of his commanding officer faintly ringing in his ears. "…back here at once! On the double! Otherwise you will…"

  Becker heard no more. He stared into the widened eyes of his 2 men. One of them hesitated as though to grasp him but then turned to flee. He had opened his mouth as though shouting at him but Becker heard no sound.

  Not only did the world around him sink into a complete darkness but into soundlessness as well.

  And then it became black, all silent and peaceful. It was like being 500 fathoms deep beneath the surface of the sea. But now even all sensation had left him. Becker felt nothing more.

  * * * *

  Lt. Marcel Rous saw Becker come out of the house and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the uncanny phenomenon occurred.

  At first Becker became faintly transparent, only to disappear then completely. He must not have had a chance to hear the command to return but his companions and the robots probably did because they set themselves in motion toward the ship.

  Meanwhile, there was no more of Cadet Becker to be seen. The place where he had just been standing was empty.

  Whereas the 2 robots took their time, the 2 remaining men began to run in an attempt to reach the safety of the ship as quickly as possible. But they were not swift enough for the mysterious force also reached for them.

  At first their legs weirdly disappeared and then their lower torsos. For one terrible moment Marcel saw the heads of the 2 men flying through the air, about 5 or 6 feet off the ground. Following the motions of their now invisible bodies, they bobbed along in a shallow sort of sine-wave. Then they, too, melted away into nothingness.

  Marcel Rous perceived the phenomenon without comprehending it. Unscathed, the 2 robots marched along toward the open airlock of the K-7.

  "K-7 to Drusus! 3 men attacked by the Unseen and… also made invisible!" Rous shouted into the microphone. He couldn’t think of any other way to put it. "They’ve disappeared…"

  "Take off at once!" came the return command.

  "The 2 robots are still…"

  "Take off!"

  Rous was jolted into activity by the tone of Sikermann’s voice. In a single hand movement he rammed home the drive switch to full acceleration, even while using the other hand to close the outer lock.

  The night-shadowed planet receded into the depths.

  2 robots were left behind. They watched the ship’s departure in unruffled robotic calm. Their positronic brains were capable of comprehending all logical occurrences but in this case they were at a loss.

  They remained behind on an uninhabited world and searched for the enemy.

  But they found him not.

  * * * *

  "Out here space is full of thought-impulses," said Fellmer Lloyd, speaking to Rhodan out of the videoscreen. "But not one of them makes any sense. It’s as though these aliens could only think in splinters and fragments. Do you follow me, chief?"

  "No, not in the slightest." Rhodan was sweeping low across the depopulated cities of the day side, trying to find a sign of life. "It seems that the attackers live in outer space. Here below there’s hardly a trace. Marshall and Pucky aren’t getting many of those alien impulses at all."

  "Out here its swarming with them—but they’re senseless. As I said, they’re just so many fragments. A real brain-rocker!"

  "Try to get a clear fix on at least one of those thoughts. That alone would be a helpful beginning…"

  "It’s impossible. You might as well try to judge the contents of a book by a single word or by its cover. Unfortunately there are critics who like to do that but it leaves something of their reliability to be desired, I’m afraid. It’s the same here with me now: I catch a single thought fragment—how do I make something out of it?"

  "Don’t give up hope, Lloyd. And above all, try to determine the source of the impulses. Maybe Ralf Marten could press through to the source."

  "Hold on, I’ll give you Marten. He can tell you himself."

  A slight pause followed.

  Rhodan watched the other viewscreens and saw the landscape of Mirsal 3 pass beneath him. Abandoned castles stood in the midst of empty cities and towns. In the cultivated fields he could still see evidence of empty harnesses where draft animals had been. Riderless farm vehicles stood about in the midst of fallen articles of clothing and the drifting smoke from the embers of campfires.

  Ralf Marten appeared on the screen and greeted him casually over the intervening 600,000 miles. As a teleopticist he was capable of transferring his mind into another living being and seeing through the other entity’s eyes. But this time it appeared that his talent had failed him.

  "Lloyd told me what you want, chief. I’ve tried it but the source of the impulses we’re picking up is too indefinable. You can’t tie down any direction. I’ve tried a couple of transfers but they always ended in nothingness. Even when I was sure of my bearings, my mental projections landed in empty space. No, chief, it’s senseless. I can’t pull it off."

  Rhodan remained calm. "I’m not reproaching you, Marten. We are facing an enemy that is bodiless and invisible. It now appears that he also knows how to disguise or conceal his very mentality from us. That’s even worse than what we had feared. We’re powerless as long as he doesn’t make a direct attack, out in the open—and it appears that he’s not interested in that."

/>   "Lt. Becker and 2 crewmen of the K-7 dissolved into thin air, chief. Certainly that’s an open attack."

  "I’m not entirely sure whether or not we should consider it as such," replied Rhodan. "It could have been a mistake on their part. In any case we have to be on our guard the next time we set foot on Mirsal 3. And if we’re going to solve this riddle we’ll have to land again. The Regent of Arkon’s been at this for 10 years already, so we can’t expect to succeed the first day. Keep on trying, Marten. Sooner or later we’ll have a stroke of luck.

  Rhodan waited until David Stem switched circuits. The face of Baldur Sikermann appeared on the screen and it was exceptionally pale.

  "What’s wrong with you, Sikermann?" asked Rhodan in some wonderment. He had never seen this officer in such a state of consternation. "Did the Galactic Gremlin grab you?"

  "Him I could take care of," replied the lieutenant colonel with a trace of returning self-control. "But these cracky blips and bogeys all around, they’re driving me donk! Every minute I think the Drusus is about to crash into an alien ship our beams pick up on our course—then suddenly there’s nothing again."

  "But you should be overjoyed, not disappointed."

  "It’s no joking matter!" retorted Sikermann peevishly. "Incidentally, what’s your position?"

  "Rats in his belfry!" misquoted Pucky from the background where he lay on the couch. Rhodan gave him a reprimanding look.

  "We’re on course for the Drusus and we’ll be on board shortly. I’m planning to go back with a beefed up crew and make another landing on Mirsal 3. Maybe even with the Drusus itself."

  "Oh brother!" moaned Sikermann. But that was all.

  Rhodan cut the connection and concerned himself with navigating the K-13. Lt. Potkin responded to the course programming and went into high acceleration. Almost simultaneously with the return of the K-7 under Lt. Marcel Rous, the K-13 glided through the wide maw of the ship’s lock and landed in the hangar area of the Drusus.