by Perry Rhodan
The visitor followed his example.
It was a strange creature that stood before the mouse-beaver a few minutes later but his appearance was not likely to inspire fear or alarm.
At first glance Pucky wasn't sure what he could compare the Kruukh to, because there was no direct parallel with any inhabitant of the Earth. The upper portion resembled a giant lobster. On a pair of long, movable stalks sat the black periscope eyes, which now regarded the mouse-beaver curiously. Apparently the thing didn't have a nose or a mouth, or else they were in another place that wasn't visible yet. Four delicately prehensile arms with three-fingered hands were evenly arranged on all sides. The remarkable creature could thus reach in any direction without having to change his position.
His lower body was heavily armored with an exoskeletal shell which was rounded off in the back. two rather short and awkwardly functioning limbs below must have been his feet, on which he moved ahead slowly. The visitor was as devoid of clothing as was Pucky. No weapon was to be seen.
I am Kruukh, came the mental introduction again. I am to speak with the commander.
He did not think the words, 'to speak' but the meaning of his thought impulse was clear. He wanted to bring a message to Perry Rhodan from his ruler.
Follow me, replied Pucky and led the way. In secret he wished that he had eyes on the back of his head.
John Marshall had covered the arrival meanwhile. He had been able to follow the 'conversation' between Pucky and the alien with ease and so was informed in advance.
Sikerman's hand still rested on the activating switch of the energy screen. At the slightest sign of danger he would connect it. Then the Sherbourne would be isolated.
The door opened. Pucky moved into the Command Central and made way for the alien intermediary as he announced in his squeaky voice: "May I present—Kruukh, the envoy of the Druufs."
The bumble-crab—as Pucky had secretly dubbed him pattered into the room on his short legs. He looked over the persons who were present, one after another with his stalky eyes, before he finally came to a halt in front of Rhodan and made a slight bow. His thought impulses now became amplified and so intense that even the non-telepaths could detect them and understand them. In this regard, Kruukh must have been unusually gifted.
You are the commander of this ship and the master of the aliens from the other time-plane?he asked but actually it was a confirmation.My lord whom you call the 'Druuf' sends you the message that any resistance is senseless. You have lost your own real time-rate like all other beings in your universe who were swept by our dimension. There is no way back any more. You must surrender.
Rhodan regarded the unusual, creature with narrowed eyes. Something about him was somehow unpleasant or offensive but he was not able to say what it was. He also knew how wrong it was to judge an alien intelligence by its exterior features. He cast a quick glance at Atlan, the immortal with the extra sense perception.
Atlan stood there motionlessly and looked attentively at Kruukh. There was a positive glimmer of displeasure in his timeless eyes. This was what confirmed Rhodan's own suspicions. Even Atlan was wary but the latter made no effort to hide the fact from the telepathically gifted creature.
"Welcome on board, Kruukh," said Rhodan out loud so that the non-telepaths could also understand him. "We are of course surprised at the demand made by your ruler. Why should we give ourselves into the hands of the Druufs without a struggle when we don't even know what they look like? Besides, it is by no means decided whether or not we have to remain in this sphere of time. If the Druufs are honorably disposed toward us, why don't they at least permit us to make the attempt to go back through the light-ring which was our means of entry?"
Kruukh stared directly at Rhodan. I know nothing of the motives of my master. I only carry out his orders. As a proof of the fact that you do not wish any more conflict, the commander of this ship is to come with me so that he can demonstrate his submission to the Druuf. This is the extent of my report and my demands.
"That's quite an order," growled Atlan from the background and he shot a warning glance at Rhodan. His tense attitude indicated that he expected a hostile move on the part of the bumble-crab at any moment. But even he had no idea of what form the hostility might take.
Rhodan said aloud to Marshall: "Bring André Noir, Ralf Marten and Fellmer Lloyd in here. We want to know where we stand with Kruukh." When Marshall left the room, he continued: "We are going to check the validity of your statements, Kruukh. Then you may go to the Druuf and bring him our answer."
The bumble-crab did not reply. Instead he did something that was only noticed by the telepath Pucky. He screened his brain completely and then activated a hitherto unused portion of it. Whereupon he opened his attack.
By the time that Marshall and the three requested mutants entered the Command Central, it was all over. And at first glance nobody was suspicious of anything.
"Wuriu Sengu is at his station," announced Marshall. Sengu was the Japanese reconnaissance scout who could look through solid matter and was thus able to observe everything that went on in the Command Central. "I've brought the other three with me."
"We are going to pull the Sherbourne alongside the Druuf ship and go on board," said Rhodan in a strangely toneless voice. "The Druufs only want what's best for us.
Immediately Marshall was alerted to the emergency. Rhodan could not have changed his opinion so swiftly. That was entirely out of the question. Marshall glanced quickly at Khrest and Atlan. The immortal stood a bit rigidly beside the other Arkonide. His arms hung loosely at his sides. The usual gleam of wakeful life was missing in the timeless eyes. Just like Rhodan and Khrest, Atlan had become a puppet.
The mental hypnotist, André Noir, was aware of calamity because he felt instinctively that somebody was at work employing the same powers that he himself was gifted with: psychic influence with a delayed action—a form of post-suggestion.
These four must be subjected to the same treatment, thought Kruukh and then he committed a fatal error. He had not counted on anyone being able to read his thoughts when they were not specifically directed at them.
Naturally John Marshall had read Kruukh's thoughts, so without being obvious he said: "Noir, you're on!"
In so doing he did not reveal even to a telepath what he meant. Noir was a mental hypnotist, which had gained him his membership in the Mutant Corps. When anyone requested him to put his talent to work, it was not necessary to give, special emphasis to which talent they were referring to. And if Marshall spoke openly like this he had his reasons for it.
The full force of the hypnotic impulses struck the unprepared bumble-crab, broke through his natural resistance and took possession of his brain. Before Kruukh had any idea the tables had been turned, he was completely under Noir's control.
"It's done!" said the hypno calmly. "What do I do with him now?"
Marshall thought swiftly. Without Rhodan he couldn't and wouldn't make any decisions. First of all, Rhodan and the others had to be released from the constraint that the uncanny visitor had placed upon their conscious minds.
"Cut him off for five minutes so that he can't do any more damage. Then free Rhodan."
Two minutes later Kruukh stood next to Marshall, completely apathetic and harmless, not knowing what was going on around him. His brain remained passive and had ceased its thought processes. Noir was able to proceed without interference to work on those who were under hypnotic influence and return to them their own volition.
Rhodan's face revealed an expression of astonishment as the hypno drew away from him. It was unusual that he was able to remember what had happened to him, The attack could not have been very intensive.
"I couldn't prevent it because it happened so fast," he reported. "Neither Pucky nor I noticed what the intention of this unpleasant visitor was. In itself it was a pretty smart manoeuvre to hypnotize us. We would have fallen into the Druuf's trap as pretty as you please, like good and obedient puppets. How lucky we
are that we have better hypnos here. Thank you, Noir."
"You can thank Marshall," replied the hypno modestly. "He saw something was wrong immediately." Noir turned again to his prisoner. "What should I do with him now?"
"Give him the order to remain completely neutral for a week. We will take him with us as a hostage. And now we'll show the Druuf that we've seen through his little trick. Maybe he'll think up something better next time."
Noir subjected Kruukh to hypnotic treatment and then led the listless prisoner out of the Command Central. The Sherbourne was equipped with suitable rooms for the detention of undesirable guests. Beyond that it may be said in passing that Ivan Ragov soon relieved the hypno of his responsibility. The scientist was extremely interested in the bumble-crab.
Rhodan nodded to Sikerman. "Defense screens on! Use the impulse cannons. Fire on the Druuf ship! Aurin—put the teletransmitter in standby readiness. This is a major attack!"
Not three seconds later the giant black Druuf ship was engulfed in a flaming bath of energy. Here and there heat-buckling hull plates could be seen but the Sherbourne could not inflict much damage because the Druuf commander reacted with lightning swiftness. The bolts of energy were soon bouncing off the shimmering protective screen, while the places that had been hit quickly cooled down.
"TTM!" ordered Rhodan tensely. "Fire!"
No one could have ventured to say whether or not the teletransmitter had really functioned so unbelievably fast or whether the Druuf ship had coincidentally gone into hypertransition at that moment. At any rate the colossus disappeared at the precise second in which Capt. Aurin opened fire.
The area in space where it had been was empty.
Without taking his eyes from the viewscreen, Rhodan said: "Set a course for the light-ring, Sikerman! We're going to try to crash through!"
Atlan started almost imperceptibly. "Are you going to ignore the curtain of fire, Barbarian? Isn't that a bit reckless?"
Rhodan shook his head. "I've had a chance to figure out that every second of delay is even more reckless. If we stay here we're lost. It's less of a risk to make the attempt to get back into our own time-plane. If it's up for grabs, what have we got to lose? Nothing, Atlan! Not a thing!"
"Course established, sir," said Sikerman. His tone was uncertain yet decisive. "Velocity?"
"Let her fly. We'll pick up the pieces later..."
7/ NEXT TIME MAY BE DIFFERENT
Emerging out of space at relative light-speed, the Sherbourne raced toward the dimly glowing light-ring which was clearly visible above the plain. The covering bombardment of energy beams from the small black ships had not faded out yet but only five or six enemy units kept up a continuous fire, aimed at the hole in the other universe.
The shimmering ring appeared to rush toward them. The fingers of energy from the Druufs reached for them—but were too slow.
And then the Sherbourne was through the opening. Behind them the dark skies paled and once more became blue and clear. The sandy desert of Tats-Tor seemed to hurtle past them while Sikerman threw in the retro-thrusters.
There was a voice on the loudspeaker. Bell's voice! "...didn't expect you back so soon! What's all the spit and thunder? Should we switch off...?"
Rhodan reached for the telecom microphone. "This is Rhodan! Cut off the warp-field generator immediately!"
The answer returned in 10 seconds: "It's shut down! So now let us in on what happened..."
Rhodan sighed with relief and sank down into his seat. It was as if a heavy stone had been lifted from his shoulders. Atlan came up to him from behind. "Shouldn't we ask Bell how much time has passed here?" he said. "Only then can we relax..."
But even before Rhodan could answer him, Bell's voice was heard again on the loudspeaker: "How come you made such a quick retreat? You weren't even two minutes among the Druufs..."
Rhodan almost jumped out of his seat. He looked at Atlan. "Well?" he muttered shakily. "What do you say now?"
The immortal shrugged. "What am I supposed to say? The opposite has happened from what we expected."
"Pucky!" said Rhodan, interrupting Atlan with a forced composure. "Don't you have the funny feeling that your time-differential with the Druufs had something to do with it?" The mouse-beaver shook his head and made no reply. Meanwhile Sikerman had slowed his flight so that he could bring back the Sherbourne in a wide curve.
He put the ship down close to the giant sphere of the Drusus . Then Khrest spoke up: "And we also have our own time-ratio again." A glance at the viewscreens confirmed the statement. Outside they saw a man emerge from the airlock of the Drusus and descend the conveyor ramp at a normal rate of movement. He came toward them. It was Bell. Five minutes later he was on board shaking hands with Rhodan and the others. "Well, so you didn't pull it off—or did you?"
"We were a number of hours over there, buddy," Rhodan hastened to make clear. "Don't ask me to explain the time differential because I haven't any answers."
"But I do," said Atlan, to everyone's surprise. "It's quite simple. We've already touched on the subject, I believe. The teletransmitter must have something to do with it. It slammed the Druuf ship against the time-wall and jarred us back into the past at the same time—a number of years, in fact. That's the only way it could have been possible for the differences between the two time-planes to match so closely—even though it was pure coincidence. We were lucky, that's all."
At that moment the intercom buzzed.
It was Ivan Ragov. "My caterpillars, sir! They have become motionless again! They don't move any more! Also this fellow, Kruukh—he's like a block of stone. What should I do?"
"Nothing," Rhodan told him and cut the connection. He looked at everyone gravely. "So all that should be enough to convince us that there can never be an understanding between us and the Druufs. It isn't that we or they don't wish it but that neither of us can bridge the gap. Nature is against it."
"A miracle might happen," said Khrest softly.
Atlan nodded in agreement. "Yes, Khrest is right. There's still too little that we know about the other time-plane but we've found a road to the Druufs. Our first attempt failed. We didn't make the contact we wanted. But the next time it may be different. I wouldn't give up hope, Barbarian. Have humans ever actually done that?"
Rhodan studied Atlan for some time and then slowly shook his head. "No, Atlan, that they have never done. You're right. For a moment I forgot that we are human beings. We never give up, no matter how difficult the problems may be. Someday we will meet the Druufs again—and then we will demand a few explanations from them."
Bell broke in impatiently: "Why not have a try at it right now? So far we've only lost a couple of minutes. The day is still young..."
But Rhodan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good old Bell—just a couple of minutes, you say. Only by a freak accident does it happen to be minutes. It could just as well have been a couple of centuries. I'll think it over a thousand times or so before I'll even dare to make another jump through the time-wall. We're going back to Earth."
And there it remained. After docking the Sherbourne inside, there was nothing more on board the Drusus to remind them of the adventure on the Crystal Planet.
Nothing other than a few motionless caterpillars, frozen in the positions they had been trapped in at the moment of break-through of the time wall. The caterpillars... and a statuesque creature named Kruukh.
• • •
Several months later Perry Rhodan stood on the outskirts of Terrania shortly after sunrise in a place that over half a century before had been desert. Now isolated trees grew here and deep grass.
The Peacelord was fond of coming to this spot whenever he could in order to admire the sunrise. Not far distant was the tomb of Ernst Ellert, the astounding man whose mind had been capable of reaching into the future. But one day, from the realm of Chronos, his mind had not returned. His astral projection must be wandering somewhere in the maze of the futurity, searching for his body. The body that
now lay preserved from the ravages of time, waiting for the return of its owner's entity.
One day, perhaps, Ernst Ellert would revive.
Suddenly Rhodan sensed that he was not alone. The sky gave an indication that in a day or so it might rain but for the moment it was clear weather and flowers were blooming in the deep green grass. A light breeze gently scattered the flowers' pollen, proliferating the new growth of spring.
The feeling that he was not alone in this solitude of Nature lasted only 10 seconds, than vanished as swiftly and inexplicably as it had come. A cold shudder passed swiftly through his tall frame, the next moment was dispelled by the warming rays of the sun.
He turned to reluctantly leave this sanctuary of serenity. Duty called in Terrania.
He stopped short.
Close to the spot where he had been standing he discerned small, unmistakable tracks in the dry earth. He recognized them at once: they belonged to Pucky! Yet 10 seconds before they had not been there!
Pucky's paw prints? Here on Earth... when he was presently residing among the colonists on Venus?
Impossible!
Unless—!
Rhodan's brain made an intuitive lightning leap to those uncertain minutes and hours on the Crystal World which had long been submerged in a timeless sea.
And suddenly he knew that the circle had closed, the enigmatic anachronism had completed its Moebius trip.
He walked onward to his waiting car and one hour later when he took up his daily work in Terrania no one observing him would have suspected that just 60 minutes before Perry Rhodan had once again been grazed by a touch of eternity and a memory that had long since been a part of the past.
Or was there also such a thing as a memory of the future...?
A TOUCH OF ETERNITY
Copyright © Ace Books 1974
Ace Publishing Corporation
All Rights Reserved
THE SHIP OF THINGS TO COME