by Perry Rhodan
Lifting up the sword and weighing it in my right hand, I slowly walked the 100 feet to the door.
I kept silent. I seemed to be devoid of all feelings now. My extra-sense appeared to be in a state of painless somnolence. Not a single impulse came through.
With measured steps I slowly advanced across the glossy floor. My stiff boots made squeaky noises on the floor covering as I withdrew farther and farther from my trusty weapons.
In the reflection of a highly polished panel I could see that my face was wreathed in a sarcastic grin. I was the personification of challenge. Only the worst villain could have been low enough to shoot me down from a safe ambush.
By the time I got to the middle of the room I knew that he had no shock-beamer in his possession. Undoubtedly he now feverishly tried to figure out a way to stop me.
If his agents had really been outside the door, this would have been the time to call them in, now that I was visible again. I couldn't believe that his pride or his charity would become so preponderant as to grant a dangerous enemy a decisive edge.
"Stay where you are!" Rhodan warned. "3 more steps and you'll force me to kill you. Make no mistake about it, I won't let you get away after I've finally discovered you again. You blundered when you returned to the museum. My psychologists predicted you'd be attracted to this place. Besides, you've taken a blaster from one of the settlers and we found your fingerprints on his holster when we checked it after he reported the theft."
He spoke faster with each sentence. He was caught in a dilemma and had to make up his mind in a hurry. I assumed that the pioneer had reported his loss only after he had first tried to recover the precious weapon by his own efforts. Who knows how many people he had accused before he had notified the authorities after a long delay?
"That was a smart move, caveman! And then you came running here right away, didn't you?"
Listening to my own words I kept walking toward the door and wondered whether he sensed my inner tension.
Was he aware—or did he have at least an inkling—that I had fought the best swordsmen in antiquity as a gladiator in a Roman arena?
If so, he would never allow himself to be trapped in a sword fight with me. How much had he really learned about my past life? Had he delved into my history before Gustav Adolf? At that period they already dueled with sabres. Did he have so much haughty confidence as to think he could stand up against me, crossing blades? If—on the other hand—he had learned the skill of fencing, he could very well respond to my swashbuckling challenge.
What was the extent of his training? Did they teach fencing as part of his education at the Space Academy? I didn't know the answer to this question but I would soon find out by his actions.
When I had approached the door within 20 steps, I observed that a long Germanic spear moved from its rack next to the display of Alemannic weapons.
The shaft disappeared halfway into Rhodan's deflector shield, leaving the broad tip in full view as it was raised up, ready to be thrown.
"Not another step!" Rhodan repeated. His voice vibrated. My psycho-strategy had worked! This man could not bring himself to attack me with such an infinitely superior atomic weapon as an energy-beamer. I had not misjudged him. "You can thrust a spear mighty well, barbarian!" I grinned.
Then it became deadly serious. I saw the shiny spear tip being pulled back abruptly as he lanced his projectile. When the missile swished through the air I sidestepped it with a quick jump, mocking his miss with loud laughter.
As I kept advancing toward the door, Rhodan suddenly became also visible, just as I expected. He wore a simple uniform and stood slightly crouched near the Alemannic collection. His eyes flashed. He obviously was in a severe quandary.
"If I were you, I'd have fired long ago, barbarian," I said in a subdued voice.
He uttered a deep angry sigh of frustration and shoved his blaster back into the holster. Then he swiftly seized an Alemannic sword from the rack. "You arrogant son of Arkon!" he exclaimed. "If you think I—"
"I only think I'd have shot sooner. I'm sorry I didn't use your back as a target when I had the chance." I interrupted him with a renewed hint that I had spared his life too. This was aimed at unbalancing him morally but the meaning of my remark escaped him in the excitement.
A second later we stood facing each other. He had thrust his sword forward, assuming the stance of a fencer but forgetting completely how foolish it was to deploy such a heavy weapon in this form.
He lunged his weapon like a light rapier. That way he couldn't last more than two minutes before his arm weakened.
With nimble footwork I easily parried his jabs. After my first blow, which slashed his upper arm superficially and drew some blood, he realized that he had committed a fatal blunder.
I could read it in his taut face. Wordlessly he flung his sword against me in the style of mediocre movies frequently shown on Terra. Again and again I blocked his furious blows until I dropped down in a thrust against his right leg.
At the last moment I turned the sharp blade around and hit his ankle with the broad blunt side of my sword. He cried out and fell to the floor. I was on top of him before he could suppress his groaning and I lightly touched his throat with the tip of my sword while I removed his blaster from its open holster with my foot.
He lay silent. His face looked grey and worn and his hair hung tangled over his forehead.
Our eyes met and I slightly increased my pressure. "You poor barbarian," I said in a low, toneless voice. "You can handle a raygun better than this."
"I hate you, Arkonide!" he rasped, not daring to move a finger.
"That's exactly what the Roman gladiator Marcus Vinicus told me when I held my sword against his throat. Vinicus had incurred Nero's disfavor when he made some unflattering remarks about the Divine Emperor and so Nero turned his thumb down. You see? Who will give us the sign now, barbarian? How could you fall into such a trap? Where are your men?"
He closed his eyes and held his breath. I pressed a little harder until the first drops of blood seeped from his throat and his hands began to tremble in an instinctive fear of death. Then I withdrew my weapon.
All my excitement came to a climax in a shrill outburst of hysterical laughter. I still was shaken by crazy convulsions when Rhodan sat up on the floor and fingered his bruised ankle.
My desire to flee had suddenly left me. I felt terribly tired and my victory over Rhodan had changed everything I had resented so much before. I knew I had wasted precious time. His agents could arrive any moment to rescue him. It had been my original intention to draw him into a sword fight and to vanish again in my invisible cloak.
Yet I had lost my incentives. Everything had become so terribly senseless. Even if I managed to elude the Venusian Defense agents once more, they would soon use hundreds of the individual rangefinders with my frequency and I would never be able to board an interplanetary spaceship without being detected. Indeed I must have realized already some time ago that my escape had become hopeless. Now I saw everything in a different light.
I threw my sword down and examined his foot. He remained silent but his lips twitched slightly.
"It'll have to be X-rayed," I said quietly. "I was forced to strike you down. The bone might be fractured."
Then we sat side by side on the floor and gazed at each other. It took awhile before he softly replied:
"I'd have been loath to meet you in the heyday of the Arkonide empire, Atlan. How old are you?"
"More than 10,000 Terrestrial years," I answered just as softly. "The Robot Brain on Venus was constructed under my supervision."
I noticed with elation that his eyes were aglow with respect. Why did we want to kill each other? "Do you still wish to go home?" he asked. I slowly shook my head. I had already given up this desire. There was nothing I could accomplish on the planets of Arkon.
"I've never tried to deceive you. It's the truth that the once great Empire has now fallen in decline. Help me overthrow the Regent. We
of Earth need men like you." He looked at me with a hopeful smile. This ambitious barbarian sought my aid, now as before. I felt Rhodan's hand touching my shoulder. It still rested there when that confounded overgrown mouse suddenly materialized in the exhibition hall. I saw that the little beast held an energy-blaster in his paws. He stared at us with a flabbergasted grimace as we sat peacefully together on the floor before him.
"Hi!" the curious creature exclaimed in a shrill voice. "Wow! Some show you're putting on here!"
"Out with you!" Rhodan ordered calmly. "Remove yourself before he throws something else at your head. Call in a couple of robot medics. I think I've busted my ankle. Do you hear me? I want you to leave without asking questions!"
I didn't believe my ears when the rodent from outer space began to lambaste me with the most abusive invectives. Rhodan admired with undisguised amusement the choice vocabulary of his peculiar little friend.
"I'll get even with you!" the feisty furball fumed before he teleported himself from the scene. Rhodan chuckled despite his pain. Now I was sorry that I had hurt him and I tried to apologize, feeling overcome with remorse.
"Oh, forget it," he said with a nonchalant gesture. "Pandemonium is brewing in the universe. I'm afraid the report of my alleged demise will soon be revealed as the elaborately planned hoax it was. —I've an important mission for you, Admiral." An odd feeling washed over me. I slowly turned my head. "You're willing to trust me with a spaceship?" He nodded affirmatively. "With a whole fleet, if necessary. If you have the welfare of your own people at heart, you must work together with us Terranians. —Where the devil are those robot medics?" The mechmen appeared on the scene a few minutes later and put Rhodan on a stretcher. A Defense officer saluted his chief. The officer was a man I recognized: Lt.-Gen. Kosnow himself. With head held high I walked past the detachment of Terranian commandos that had arrived in the meantime. Lt. Gmuna was among them and smiled at me with friendly eyes.
After Rhodan had been carried into the ambulance helicopter I followed him aboard the ship.
"There's a girl waiting for you in the Commandant's office," Gmuna whispered in my ear. "It's Marlis Gentner. She came yesterday to appeal for leniency toward you. Did you have to act as you did?"
"No, my friend, not really," I said quietly. "But some people seem to need a boost for their self-confidence. And I'm one. I don't quite understand myself."
The ship lifted. I sat next to a man whose lips showed signs of pain but who nevertheless managed an infectious smile. Frank, sincere, Perry Rhodan was a human being worthy of my admiration. And I knew to be true now what I had always secretly felt: that he was my friend.
"I'm sure you can tell us many amazing stories," he broke my reverie.
Truer words were never spoken. Given time, I shall. For thousands of years have filled my life to overflowing with countless thrilling adventures.
THE END
AGAIN: ATLAN
Copyright © Ace Books 1974
Ace Publishing Corporation
All Rights Reserved
THE SHIP OF THINGS TO COME
ATLAN the Ageless, Time's Lonely One has made his peace with the Peacelord. No longer does the ancient Arkonide constitute a danger to the Solar Imperium because he has clearly realized that further resistance to Rhodan would not only be detrimental to his own interests but... futile. Furthermore, he has come to genuinely admire his former adversary.
All seems to be going well. But—!
Something nobody could have foreseen: Perry Rhodan's wife disappears! Thora kidnapped!
And, as if that weren't bad enough, the mutants mutiny! These incredible events occur in—
SHADOW OF THE MUTANT MASTER
by Kurt Brand