Power Key

by Perry Rhodan

  Again I noticed the iridescent luminosity. Before us, the floor was boiling. A transformer stricken by the heat gave up the ghost in its fight against gravity and fell into the only slowly hardening molten metal.

  From then on I was alone with Rhodan. He turned his head, showing me his sweat-covered face. At the moment we did not dare leave our positions; certainly not with the smoke rising as it was. The poisonous gases given off by the molten metal-plastic would have left us unconscious after a few breaths.

  The seconds stretched into eternities. The mouths of our guns were pointed ahead. I saw a glaring flash in the thick haze between the surviving transformers. The beam slammed into the armorplastic base and the liberated energy knocked me off the floor. I fell back heavily. I knew that I had been shot at with a shockweapon. This was our only chance. If the guiding Brain was making an effort to preserve its valuable power plant, then it would not allow the robots to use thermo-weapons.

  Rhodan fired again. His energy-burst disappeared in the thick smoke, emerging far away to strike the ceiling in a spray of sparks.

  I looked around. Tschubai had as yet not come back. A glance at my watch told me that only 20 seconds had passed since his last appearance and he needed at least 30. It was also questionable whether he would hold up or not. Teleporters like him were extremely sensitive and psychically susceptible to strain. If Tschubai managed to leap even this last hurdle, we could write him off for at least the next 15 hours as any sort of effective help.

  Rhodan called something to me. I didn’t understand the words but I could grasp the situation with my eyes. A monstrous robot surrounded by a bluish shining defense field stepped slowly and deliberately through the pool of molten metal. Other robots of the same kind followed. This, then, was the end.

  I fired three quick shots at the foremost attacker. I succeeded only in raising the temperature, which was becoming unbearable. My uniform was beginning to singe. A nauseous burned stench assaulted my nose and mouth. I was shaken by an attack of coughing which brought tears to my eyes and made my gunhand uncertain.

  I shot again, then saw Rhodan make his move. He practically threw himself over the ground, keeping his head low to avoid the thick masses of vapor hanging in the air. I followed him at once. Ras Tschubai had appeared directly in front of the mysterious defense screen in the tunnel.

  We came up to the teleporter just as the first of the energy-screen protected robots reached our former cover and stopped there. Rhodan had put his arms around Tschubai’s neck. I embraced him from behind.

  In so doing, I saw the mutant’s face, twisted by the strain of exerting himself to the utmost. He had apparently reached the limits of his capabilities by transporting two men at once several times in rapid succession.

  When I felt first the brief pain of dematerialization and then a wonderfully cool stream of air immediately afterwards, I knew that we were temporarily safe.

  I lay on the ground, coughing and fighting against an attack of choking. Someone called me. It was Lt. Stepan Potkin, who with the help of the hypno Andre Noir had cleared the small backroom of one of the numerous pubs of unwanted guests so that we would have a reception station.

  “Sir, everything’s OK. Everyone’s here. How do you feel?”

  I heard Rhodan’s croaking voice. He had evidently breathed all manner of poisonous gas into his lungs.

  “New uniforms, quick! Ours are half burnt. What’s the story here? Has an alarm been sounded?”

  “No sir, no one seems to be aware of what happened on the other side of the wall. In my opinion, though—”

  We were never to learn Potkin’s views on the situation. Arkonide alarm whistles, shrill and high-pitched, drowned out his voice as well as every other noise. More than 40,000 furloughing Zalites were startled throughout the vast quartering hall. Heads turned and widely opened eyes stared to the walls and up to the ceiling where the alarm devices were installed.

  We looked at each other significantly and Bell said loudly: “Aha! They’ve just noticed we aren’t there any more. This is getting interesting!”

  Rubbing his forehead, he looked around. The alarm whistles were still shrieking. It was a noise that left its impression on any person who ever heard it, cutting him to the quick.

  I slowly sat up. My coughing fit was subsiding.

  100 ADVENTURES FROM NOW Kurt Brand draws you toward

  The Hypnosphere

  5/ ARKON MUST DIE!

  If the giant Robot Regent of Arkon had been human, the measures it took could have been termed bestial.

  However, we were dealing with a machine which had never had such concepts programmed into its memory bank. The Regent did what seemed logical on the basis of the situation and thus appropriate.

  We were able to reach our common quarters in Block C-436-8 in good order even in the incredible confusion ensuing shortly after the sounding of the alarm. The loudspeakers had ordered every furloughing Zalite to leave the stores, pubs and wide avenues at once and report to the robots guarding the doors of his assigned quarters. The 40,000 inhabitants of Voga 4 were given 15 minutes in which to do it.

  Naturally it was impossible for all the many people to return ‘home’ in so short a time. A few seconds before the time ran out, Rhodan and I stormed into our building and, thanks to our proper pass-plaques, were allowed to go on in without challenge. We noticed, however, that our arrival had been registered.

  My foot was still on the wrong side of the heavy door when the combat robots marching outside began to shoot. In my ears was the roaring of the heavy energy weapons; more than 100 Zalites fell dead in the atomic hurricane. If we had not reached our quarters in the last second, we would have unquestionably suffered the same fate.

  The Regent was showing no more mercy. Anyone who had not left the streets in the time allotted him was shot.

  I had seen many gruesome massacres in my life but this one was especially depressing for me. A machine built by my venerable forefathers had instigated mass murder and in the final analysis I was indirectly responsible for it.

  All feeling within me seemed to have died out as I quickly took off my crew uniform and replaced it with the commander’s uniform my double had been wearing.

  Rhodan and Bell were also in the midst of changing their uniforms. Our ‘standins’ disappeared and we once more assumed our proper places.

  Meanwhile the men of Potkin’s receiving troop had made their report. From mouth to mouth went the whispered, apprehension-raising news. Tako Kakuta, still too weak to even stand on his own two legs, had received the first injections from our medics. His condition was still poor.

  Outside, energy beams were still being fired. The last of the Zalites, driven by stark fear to seek out hiding places, were tracked down by the robots and killed.

  I left my private room to seek out the officers’ quarters. There was such a confusion of voices in the entire housing complex that we could risk a short conference.

  His face grim, Sgt. Huster was in the process of dismantling his ultra-thermobomb. Our men had surrounded him in a circle and were discussing the situation in a lively manner, so Sgt. Huster was well covered as he sat on the smooth floor and took the dangerous bomb apart.

  I glanced only fleetingly into Room 18-B, where our 150 men had assembled according to the instructions.

  Only 18 of the 50 genuine Zalites had returned. Lt. Kecc, the radar technician, had been shot with the rest, according to report.

  I directed the trembling Zalites back into their quarters and called for strictest quiet. Minutes later, I met with the officers of Rhodan’s general staff.

  Perry stood, legs apart, against the bare plastic wall of the four-man room. As I entered, he saluted only briefly. Bell looked at me out of dully shining eyes and John Marshall was desperately trying to pick up some thought impulses.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, John,” said Rhodan with an oddly toneless voice. “There are only robots here and they don’t think. The few Arkonides in the
other quartering halls don’t know anything. The death order came direct from the Regent.”

  Marshall gave up. A man reported the complete dismantling of the bomb. Rhodan nodded absentmindedly. As he looked at us, one after the other, he seemed to me extremely cool and collected.

  “Do you know what that means? We disappeared from the power plant in a mysterious fashion, yet the Regent has determined that the only place we could have gone is this military settlement here. So it had the streets cleared in order to begin as quickly as possible a painstaking search for us. The order to fire is a kind of positronic panic action that was without a doubt issued by the Robot’s self-preservation sector. It knows now that there are dangerous weapons down here and it’s going to have a search made for them.”

  “Well have to separate ourselves from them, sir!” Marshall put in excitedly. “Ras Tschubai can take them off to some isolated spot with just a few springs. Even if they’re discovered, the Regent could never guess who had carried them.”

  The thought was thoroughly logical, except for one error. I knew how Rhodan’s clear mind would react to that.

  “Wrong, John! The Regent never forgets anything. It will remember in a second the activities of our mutants about 70 years ago and draw the appropriate conclusions. By now it must have decided beyond all doubt that the sudden disappearance of the power plant intruders was nothing normal. It possesses enough information concerning our earlier activities in the realm of the Imperium to add to that. It knows that it’s dealing with Terrans. That means it will have everyone occupying this sector of the city examined. Hiding our weapons wouldn’t help us any.”

  “It’s a far-fetched theory!” Bell warned.

  “It isn’t far-fetched at all. I know this machine. It will draw just the conclusions I’ve already mentioned. What’s your opinion, Atlan?”

  I nodded, even though it seemed to me that my neck muscles were stiffening. “You’re quite right. Even if Terra didn’t occur to the Regent, it still wouldn’t forego the examination. Unfortunately we can’t disguise our human or Arkonide brain frequencies. When they take a close look at us, we’ll be found out. Even our Zalite disguises won’t help us then.”

  Rhodan stroked his long hair. His smile did not seem authentic. “In that case, it might be better to keep our weapons with us. I wouldn’t like to be entirely defenseless when they find us out. Or does anyone see a possibility of forcing our way topside?”

  Potkin gave a short laugh at that and shook his head.

  “Hopeless,” I said, trying to keep my own voice calm and collected. “In this sector there’s only the one entrance, the one we’re already familiar with. We can’t get to the shipyards anymore. Besides that, an attempt to do so would be senseless. The ships are taken below by way of enormous antigrav shafts. We’d never be able to get up to the surf ace there.”

  Several more suggestions were made, none of them promising any great amount of success. In fact, not one held even the slightest trace of a chance for escaping.

  Rhodan sat down on the simple pneumo-couch. He knew that we had gambled and lost. If our so-carefully-planned offense had succeeded, everything would have been different. We would have undoubtedly found a way in the ensuing chaos to reach the surface, for the Regent would have no longer existed.

  Now, however, the Regent was striking back with all its ruthlessness. Not everything was lost yet: there was still a certain limited possibility. I mentioned it hesitantly. “You must realize that we’re going to be discovered. An armed resistance to the last man would not only be stupid, it would be wrong. if we announce ourselves at once, the Robot will take us prisoner. It needs Terra’s help. It’s probable that we’d come out of this relatively unscathed. But this is only an idea!”

  Rhodan’s eyes sparkled in the diagonally falling light. “Is that your opinion, Arkonide? You don’t believe it yourself! The Regent will take us in and interrogate us painstakingly. It will learn the Earth’s galactic position and attack at once. That’s all it has wanted to do for years. You can just forget about that idea, my friend.”

  Bell looked at me through half-closed eyes. His attitude was too casual to have a reassuring effect on me. Hot anger boiled up inside me. Our situation was desperate enough as it was but now added to that was the distrust of the Terrans.

  “Then do what you want, you mighty heroes!” I said, my voice hot with fury. “Go down with flags flying and hands playing for all I care! You fools will never learn! You understand shooting and running stupidly to meet your death but you don’t have any idea of real politics. There might be a way to deceive the Regent.”

  “No!”

  “No!”

  The word stood in the small room as though it had become solidified.

  Rhodan had made his decision. I looked at him wildly, clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white. No one said a word. Instead, I was being virtually dissected by several pairs of cold eyes.

  I forced a mocking smile to my lips and turned. Then came the sharp calls after me that I had already been expecting. They would never change, these somewhat too-quickly elevated barbarians!

  “Where are you going, Arkonide?”

  I turned my head. Rhodan was tensed, ready to leap after me, convincing me that he no longer trusted me.

  “To the mess,” I answered ironically. “Why are you so nervous, immortal? Aren’t you hungry?”

  Bell grinned and Rhodan relaxed. “You’re being rather peevish, aren’t you?” he asked pointedly.

  “Only outwardly. I’m afraid that my wonderful cell activator won’t be of much use to me in the very near future. Since accidental death affects the body from without and is not a result of any organic process, the cell activator is helpless in coping with the damage. If you consider being hit by a beamer blast as an accident, then you know what lies before us. You should reconsider the idea of capitulation. If I know the Brain, it will be undertaking some new move before long. For now, all the Zalites have been shut up in their quarters and the Regent has thereby brought all activity that might be a threat to it to a halt. That was the first move in a train of brilliantly clear logic. The next move will be much less pleasant.”

  I touched the edge of my radio helmet with my fingertips in salute but before I could reach the door the large loudspeakers of the general address system outside began to roar. This time the Regent himself was speaking.

  I stopped, listening. Rhodan sprang to my side and pushed the door open with his foot. The message was too loud to go unheard, however.

  “Regent to all Zalite commanders,” the voice resounded through all the vast corridors and halls. “You are directed to have your crews fall in, ready for march. You will be called according to ship and transported to the surface. The furlough has been canceled, effective immediately. The crews will be escorted by combat robots. You are not to ask me any questions.”

  We looked at each other in surprise. Now what was this supposed to mean? Were these orders also a part of mechanical logic? If yes, what did the Robot hope to accomplish by evacuating us? Why did it not undertake the examination of each individual down here, a tactic which would have certainly been successful?

  The answer came from the auxiliary brain.

  As I became conscious of the answer and turned it over in my mind, I did something I was to bitterly regret seconds later. I turned to Rhodan and quickly explained what I had just found out.

  “The Regent has drawn his conclusions. The Brain isn’t risking the examination of the people in the city because it’s probably found out that we penetrated the power plant with a bomb. Otherwise, it would have been senseless, since we could never have seriously threatened the Regent with our hand-beamers alone, even if we had been standing in the middle of his own mechanical insides.”

  “It sounds plausible! Go on!” Rhodan urged.

  “The Regent is now trying to get everyone out of the area in which more damage can be done with the proper means than above on the spaceport. That’
s why there won’t be any more examination. It would cost time, and time is something the Regent won’t let anyone have. Things are really going to get hot for us up on the spaceport.”

  The expression on Rhodan’s face made me silent. A death mask could not have been more frozen and expressionless. He needed exactly three seconds to reach his decision. A decision that made me pale. “Sgt. Huster!”

  The weapons expert had been standing outside in the corridor. He was leading the so-called withdrawal squad. Silently, he stood at attention.

  “Perry…!” I said, agitated. My throat felt as though there was a lump in it. “Perry…!”

  He didn’t pay any attention to me. His voice was toneless.

  “Sgt. Huster, in the interests of mankind you are accordingly being given the order to assemble the Arkon Bomb from the separate pieces that have been brought along. Make it ready for activation and install the timer-detonator. Report back to me as soon as it’s done.”

  Huster saluted. He was already gone before I could say anything. Our 150 men crowded around unobtrusively. The Arkon Bomb, most dangerous weapon of destruction that my race possessed for use against solid targets like planets or other heavenly bodies, was Rhodan’s last resort. Since the bomb was large and heavy when constructed, even despite its superlative miniaturization, we had needed 62 men to conceal the separate pieces. Huster could not be finished in less than an hour.

  I ran into the corridor and glanced hastily into Room 18-B Huster was already lost in the crowd of men, probably even now being given hastily produced bomb parts.

  I felt sick. I knew that the bomb would trigger an inextinguishable atomic fire affecting all elements with an atomic number above 10. The major components of the atmosphere would not be attacked but that was not necessary. We had only recently experienced the destruction of an entire planet by Arkon Bombs. The planet Grautier, formerly a Solar Imperium fleet base, had been turned into a slowly fading sun in a matter of hours.