by Perry Rhodan
Sgt. Emery was leaning back in his seat, holding his automatic rifle in his hands. "Then the Antis would have a couple hundred more bogeys they could detect," he replied. "I think the Chief is planning a surprise attack. The Ironduke can't be traced by any hypersensor as long as it's moving in the libration zone."
"We have to trust the operations of the ship's command," interjected Henderson.
"Yes sir," said Berker.
Emery could see at a glance that Henderson's confidence wasn't much to go on. His superior officer appeared to be nervous and unsure of himself. But Emery had known Henderson long enough to realize that this seeming insecurity always vanished in battle. Then he would strangely change into the leading figure of his unit. His orders and decisions were then calm and well calculated.
Emery fondled his rifle thoughtfully. He was thinking that the men in the Ironduke's control center must be feeling a bit superfluous because their modern high-powered weapons probably wouldn't be put to use in the engagement. Or was it that the combination of old and new weapons was supposed to be the key to victory? In addition to the automatic rifles the men had also been issued energy weapons. Emery remembered one soldier's sarcastic question. He had wondered if a commanding officer was always going to be present in the fight to decide which kind of weapon they were supposed to use at any given time.
Berker's sudden chuckle brought Emery out of his reverie. The German was looking at him askance with a grin of amusement. Emery refrained from asking any questions, however. It was any man's right to have something to chuckle about before going into battle-whether Emery himself was the cause of the merriment or not.
Put any chance bit of merriment in either the crew quarters or in the Control Central was very short-lived.
The first sun the Ironduke reached had only two planets. They circled the central star at such great distances that its heat could barely reach them. These worlds were covered with a frozen mantle of methane and ammonia.
The next sun only had a single planet circling around it. Although it was not Okul it appeared to be very unusual to the space travelers. A luminous veil surrounded it as though the atmosphere were enriched with phosphor. However, there was no time to make an investigation.
Six more systems followed, after which there was a recess taken up by a further council of war. The search continued. Invisibly, the Ironduke plied its course from star to star. But it was all to no avail. At the end of another seven hours, Okul had still not been found.
• • •
From the beginning of his career, Reginald Bell had certain ideas of his own about discipline. Above all he took a dim view of spit-and-polish martinets in uniform. He believed that a man could fight just as well with an unbuttoned collar as any rulebook jockey.
At present he narrowed his eyes and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. He scratched the upper tufts of the hair on his chest as he remarked: "We're getting nowhere."
It was undoubtedly the most categorical statement that had been made so far concerning the course of their operation. It also happened to be the most valid.
Nothing had changed on the screens of the panob gallery or the tracking consoles. The 800-meter linear-drive ship was still somewhere in the middle of the galaxy. Although the stars kept changing on the panoramic screens the overall effect was the same. The flight of the Ironduke lent a tragic significance to the proverbial search for the needle in the haystack. Bell had been completely correct in his evaluation.
"We're getting nowhere."
Not everyone on board could comprehend the full significance of his statement. The chance that had been offered to the Earth to smoke out the main base of the Antis had suddenly slimmed down to practically nothing. It was true that the scientists back on Earth were working day and night to find a cure for the fiendish narcotic poison but it was still uncertain whether or not their efforts would meet with success in time.
When Bell gave his pronouncement, the bony radio tech, Jens Averman, had stiffened in consternation. He looked across the great room at Rhodan, who carried the burden of responsibility here. Even Jefe Claudrin was waiting for him to say something. As long as the Administrator was on board, he was the chief in command.
"The report that Miguel Desoga sent us from Lepso either contained a decisive error or Dr. Nearman's mind may have started to wander shortly before he died. I'm beginning to have doubts about the validity of his position data. Don't forget that Okul isn't even registered in the old Arkonide catalogs." Rhodan faced the men gravely. "I think this has been a false alarm."
No man on board had to be told what this meant. His statement put an end to the operation. A handful of Terrans had dared to stir in the spider's web and had only made their situation more hopeless. The plan of the Antis appeared to loom up more certainly than ever before. It was only a matter of minutes before Rhodan would give the order to return. Back to Earth, which was turning into a madhouse of narcotics addicts because of the criminal subversions of the Baalol cult.
When Claudrin spoke, his voice was unusually subdued: "So we're giving up the search?"
"All of us are urgently needed back on Earth," Rhodan answered. "There is no purpose in continuing the search for Okul."
Pucky waddled up to him. His great friend's deep despair could not be hidden from his paranormal senses. Even though no battle had been fought the Ironduke's mission had failed, which was a defeat for all humanity.
"We've done everything we could, Perry," said the mouse-beaver in his high-pitched voice.
"Sir, Pucky is right," John Marshall agreed. Even now his well-known calm was not to be disturbed. "Keep in mind that there are still other ways to get at the Antis."
"Yes, of course," Rhodan agreed bitterly, "but we've got to find them."
Claudrin's mighty bulk pushed past Bell. "What are your orders, sir?"
Rhodan got up and walked over to the panoramic screens. The glitter of the stars seemed cold and indifferent. There was a hush in the Control Central waited for Rhodan's decision.
The Administrator straightened his shoulders, and his voice was toneless: "We're giving up," he said.
10/ BATTLE STATIONS!
Valmonze lifted his glass and nodded to Thomas Cardif. Hekta-Paalat and Rhabol looked on in silence. Their friendship for the Springers was not too great and they tolerated them only as business partners.
"I've had considerable experience with narcotics," said Valmonze. He stroked his beard and winked at Rhodan's son. "We've already put some dents in the Earth's extraterrestrial influence and went so far as to make a profit selling Terran narcotics on other planets. And Earth got the blame for it indirectly. Only thing that made things go wrong was a piece of bad luck that happened."
The Springer patriarch neglected to mention that the 'bad luck' involved was partially due to his own failure.
"Nevertheless we should consider my suggestion," said Cardif. "Now that they've apparently recognized the danger of the Liquitiv on Earth, we can cut off their supplies. As a rough estimate the number of addicts on Terra must have reached 200 million by now. If I know Rhodan, that's enough to put him under pressure.
Valmonze noisily finished his drink and looked questioningly at the priests. He had already found out that the Terran wished to proceed ruthlessly against his own race. The defeat of Lepso had not changed his mind. Cardif hated his father-and that included the Earth, as well.
"In any case I'm taking off in the Val 1," Valmonze continued, since none of the Antis had deigned to answer. "With or without the Liquitiv. I can't wait around here all day until you wrangle out a decision. I'm suggesting that we keep on supplying the liqueur to all planets."
Cardif gave him a thin smile. "With all due respect to your business instincts, my friend, you are still forgetting that we have other plans."
Like any other Springer, Valmonze was ready to fight ruthlessly for any commercial advantage. But without any attractive goal in front of his eyes he considered it a waste of time to get into
an argument. As long as it was possible to renew the distribution of the Liquitiv he didn't see any reason for cutting back the supplies on any strategic reason alone.
He was diplomatic enough not to express his opinion openly. But by insisting on an immediate departure of the Val 1 he knew he was forcing the Antis to a quick decision. He based his strategy on the mentality of the priests, who were always squeamish about changing their plans without careful deliberation.
Baaran was the oldest of the Antis who were present at the moment and it was he who finally nodded to Valmonze. "You will take off," he said calmly but in a cold tone of voice. "With Liquitiv," he added. "For the time being we will not interrupt the supply lines."
Valmonze made no effort to conceal his triumph. He had made a good business deal and everything else was immaterial. Cardif only watched him in silence as he drained the last dregs from his glass and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"Your time will come, too, my young friend," he told Cardif patronizingly.
"That it will," remarked Hekta-Paalat grimly. "We'll soon decide on a cessation of the shipments."
Without saying a word, Rhodan's son got up and left the room. He took a passage that led him to the circular balcony that was built around the periphery of the giant steel dome. Here on Okul the Antis had dispensed with their pyramidal form of architecture. The steel domes were more practical. From where he stood he could see the ocean beyond the edge of the jungle. The priests had chosen an elevated area for their buildings and all vegetation had been obliterated that stood in their way.
The Val 1 lay on the ultramodern spaceport. Normally the Springers did not make the practice of landing in their giant long-ships, preferring to use commuter craft instead. But the Val 1 was to be loaded with a narcotic shipment that would be transferred to other ships.
The air-conditioning system beneath the balcony railing blew cool air up to Cardif but he still sensed the sultriness of the tropical jungle. The Arkonide half-breed was not aware that this scene of peaceful calm was soon to be disturbed. The indirect cause of it was to be the Val 1 itself but that much he never found out.
• • •
Fate seems inclined to bring about vast political changes on the basis of apparently insignificant events. At present it was Valmonze with his precipitous takeoff who was destined to unleash a countless number of events which in their further development were to rattle the very foundations of the Solar Imperium.
When the Val 1 left Okul and entered hyperspace, it caused an extra-dimensional discharge of energy. Nobody on board the Springer ship suspected that a Terran vessel was in the vicinity or that it was just on the verge of returning to Earth. The Val 1 disappeared into hyperspace on an unknown course but it left behind it an unmistakable sign of its jump position.
It was a warp-shock trace that the Ironduke's hypersensors were able to detect with perfect clarity.
• • •
It was a sheer coincidence that Maj. Hunts Krefenbac, First Officer of the Ironduke, happened to be looking directly over Jens Averman's shoulder at the moment when the hypersensors responded. Both he and Averman shouted as though from one mouth. "Stop, sir!"
Averman quickly noted the strength of the impact as well as its direction and duration. Rhodan, who had just issued orders to turn back, came quickly over to the console. Although Jefe Claudrin was not much more than five feet tall, he appeared beside him like a rolling barrel. Next to him, even Bell seemed slender by comparison.
The Ironduke's chief mathematician Carl Riebsam took up a position near the positronicon. He seemed to realize that he was about to be put to work. Only Pucky lolled sleepily in his seat as though he were indifferent to it all.
"Sir, it's a transition trace!" Averman called out. "It has to be a ship because the shock patterns are typical."
"Do you have the range?" asked Rhodan swiftly.
"Yes sir. The calculator can work out the exact fix now." Like all other radio and instrument men, Averman had an instinctive aversion to advanced cybernetic equipment. He had a subconscious fear that one day his job would be eliminated by a positronic brain. So it was only natural that he should refer to the ship's positronicon as a 'calculator' when it was a multi-laminar microcircuit brain capable of handling millions of variables.
Bell spoke up. "If there's a spaceship operating here, it means there are planets around close by that they can land on."
"Such as Okul!" thundered Claudrin. "I'll bet you that ship is from Okul." He looked around as if to see if anyone doubted him.
But there was no one who would have taken the bet. Everyone was waiting tensely for the further processing of the calculations. Within a few minutes, Carl Riebsam was able to start programming the positronicon. Hunts Krefenbac handed over Averman's readings to him.
Rhodan watched the mathematician silently as he went to work. If the Epsalian commander's presentiment was true, then it would only be a matter of time before Okul was found. Perry was well aware of the fact that any attack against the mysterious planet could probably lose him his son. He was assailed by conflicting emotions. It was no secret to him that Thomas Cardif was seeking to destroy him at any price-even if that price were the Solar Imperium itself. For Rhodan such a monstrous intention was inconceivable. Although his son had continuously made trouble for him and the action now might endanger him, he was still thinking of how he might destroy the Antis without endangering Cardif.
The Administrator had not deceived himself. He knew that he would give the order to attack as soon as Okul was located. Even the unpredictable fate of his son would not deter him. Often enough in the past, Rhodan had been faced with the decision of whether or not to sacrifice a small number of people as an alternative to sacrificing the total race. He had always decided in favor of humanity.
In quieter moments he had often asked himself if his plan to lead humanity through all its perils to the status of a great galactic power had not developed into a mania already, which he might be succumbing to like one possessed. It was a great relief to have sober pragmatists around him who considered his goals to be correct and who supported him unconditionally. Men like Freyt, Mercant, Bell and Deringhouse were not the dreamer types who would follow a political experimenter. Such were the deliberations that gave Rhodan the certainty that he was on the right path. From time to time he was plagued by doubts but was that not a proof of the fact that he had a full awareness of his responsibility and therefore weighed every action carefully beforehand?
The Baalol cult was on the verge of throwing the human race back to the status of slavery. His own son stood in their ranks but that was only a personal twist of fate. Rhodan prepared himself to issue his commands as though Thomas Cardif did not exist.
The sober voice of Dr. Riebsam startled him out of his broodings."There we have it," said the mathematician. "Without any doubt, Dr. Nearman's information contained a small factor of error."
"Don't keep us on the torture rack," growled Bell impatiently.
Riebsam waved the symbol-filled strip of foil that he had taken from the computer's output slot. "We were just about four light-years off course," Riebsam informed them. "That is, if the transition point of the alien ship represents any proximity to Okul."
Claudrin stomped over to him and cornered him completely with his wide bulk. The mathematician surrendered the plastic strip to him."Let's just fly to that location, sir," Claudrin suggested.
But Rhodan's thinking was still cool and collected. He shook his head. "No, Colonel," he retorted. "We'll be silent observers for at least a couple of hours. Its quite possible that other ships may show up."
A penetrating sigh made him turn around swiftly. Pucky looked at him reproachfully and indicated his uncomfortable seat. "Still more waiting," he groaned. I have calluses already."
"Calluses, Lieutenant?" inquired Maj. Krefenbac.
The mouse-beaver grimaced. He couldn't bear to have anyone address him by his military rank. He lifted himself from his
seat, gasped for air and complained piteously. "It's awful!" he muttered.
Krefenbac maintained a poker face as he gave him an order. "Lt. Puck, report at once to sick bay. A serious case like this must be looked into."
In speechless dismay the mouse-beaver uncovered his incisor tooth. Of all times, just now when things were getting exciting, was he supposed to leave the Control Central? "I-I think I'll be able to stand it," he said with more self-control.
Rhodan was smiling as Krefenbac turned to him gravely. "Sir, what do you think of the Lieutenant's condition?"
"I don't believe that my limited medical knowledge permits me to assume such a responsibility," said Rhodan sadly. "That's why in my opinion Lt. Puck should be under the care of Dr. Gorsizia."
"Alright, Puck," said Maj. Krefenbac in a firm tone of voice, "report to Dr. Gorsizia."
Pucky gingerly checked out his nether portions, then managed to conjure up a joyful grin of surprise. "They've gone!" he chirped.
"Gone?" queried Rhodan in amazement. "Who's gone?"
"The calluses," replied Pucky.
Rhodan himself was trapped. He could not contradict him because after all he had admitted to an insufficient knowledge of medicine to make a judgment on Pucky's ailment". But now the fun was over.
He turned back to his men. "So well wait a little longer," he repeated. "In the meantime I want to talk to the various units. They should know who it is that we're up against and what depends on the outcome."
Claudrin and Bell moved aside to give him room at the intercom. Rhodan's speech to all hands lasted exactly 12 minutes. He did not hesitate to describe the seriousness of the situation to them. He also explained to them why only the Ironduke could be used in this dangerous undertaking. His voice was carried to all parts of the heavy cruiser but one instruction he omitted. Although everything in his nature impelled him to shout out the words, he suppressed his emotions.