by Perry Rhodan
"It is nature itself that shall decide here. If that were right, we would die in our prime. But that is not what nature does. How long can a person live altogether, Commander? Do you know? How else do you want to determine the time limit set for us? Aren't you uttering the death sentence too early?"
"The period of life is not gauged by the natural life-span but by physical factors of our world. There must never be too many children born or too few adults dying. That balance is what determines our destiny."
"A gruesome and unjust destiny, Commander! We have come to bring about a radical change. We will no longer stand by and watch as life is wasted and abused. We are not just concerned with our lives but that of our entire people. Nature has granted each of us the right to live until his death—if I may put it that way. I don't know who created the laws by which we are supposed to live but whoever it may be, may the Creator of the universe curse him or her!"
The Commander turned pale. His hands trembled. "I forbid you to speak this way!" he cried out angrily.
But the psychologist was far from being intimidated at this point. "You cannot forbid me to do anything anymore, Commander. We three know that our lives are forfeited if we bend to your will, so we have nothing more to lose if we dare to replace the old laws by new and better ones. And you will help us. In repayment you will receive the gift of your natural life. That is our suggestion. You can reject it, if you have the courage and are crazy enough to do so."
The Commander's hand lifted from the table and reached out for a control dial. The psychologist smiled when he saw the movement. "I won't stop you from summoning the guards. The sooner they come, the sooner all the men in the ship will learn what has happened. You may be assured that they won't just sit and watch us being slaughtered. If you don't send out an alarm, however, we will still have a chance to discuss the situation and settle it peaceably. Incidentally..." he took the raygun out of his pocket and released the safety mechanism, "...we are not defenseless."
The Commander stared wordlessly at the weapon. His hand hesitated, then returned to its original resting-place.
The psychologist smiled. "Good," he acknowledged in a friendly tone. "I see that you are a reasonable man. Then we can continue to speak openly with one another."
"Don't have any illusions, PS5," the Commander warned. "I only hesitate because I don't want a large-scale bloodbath. That would only upset the existing order. If our number were reduced too radically, the danger would be just as great as if it were to grow. The secret of our regulated life is a righteous balance. You must have grasped that by now..."
"Righteous?" PS5 scoffed. "Is it more righteous to kill an unborn child than a living being prematurely?"
"You deny slumbering life its right to exist?" cried the outraged Commander. He seemed very convinced about his standpoint. "You will leave this room in the company of the converter guards only..."
"Just a minute! By the way... you have just reminded me of something. You said something about slumbering. That brings up a new problem. Would you divulge to us who drew up the prevailing laws? Was it your predecessor?"
"You have no right to ask that!"
"That is of secondary importance—I have the power!" The psychologist lifted his weapon. "I can kill you!"
The Commander smiled coldly. "My time will be up in a few short days, then I shall die anyway. I have no more fear of death, for which I have prepared myself my entire life. No, that will not force me to betray secrets to you which maintain our entire people."
"Tell me something, Commander, is only the Commander in office entitled to know the secrets?"
"That's right," nodded C1 rashly.
"Excellent!" retorted PS5. "So you must instruct your successor before you die. Were that not to occur, the existing order would break down, the secret would die with you if I killed you, wouldn't it?"
The Commander realized what a terrible error he had made. He turned even paler than he already was. "You wouldn't dare..."
"Oh yes we would! We shall kill you and your successor would never have a chance to hear the truth from your mouth. Even if we died ourselves he would be left helpless, in your position. You can imagine the consequences yourself."
He stopped to give the Commander a chance to deliberate on the consequences of his stubborn behavior. He caught the eye of the physician, who had regained confidence. R75 stood motionless by his side with his weapon drawn. His expression showed determination.
At last the Commander said, "You win, PS5. I see no alternative. If I break the laws and tell you what I was only allowed to tell the succeeding Commander, I shall be serving our people and the spirits of the ancestors." He got up and stood straight and proud before the conspirators who were demanding a natural death. "But you won't live long with your knowledge."
"Let that be our problem," PS5 replied with composure. "Go on, talk!"
"No, I won't talk much, but I want to show you something." He pointed at the second door in the wall, which was massive and deeply embedded in the metal. "Come with me."
The psychologist suspected a trap but he realized that he had no choice but to trust the Commander. He
watched as he went to the door and began turning the wheel. "Don't worry, gentlemen. Beyond this there is only my cabin. It has no exit, only another door. Behind that is what you want to know." The heavy door opened onto the adjoining room. They followed the Commander.
His cabin was almost identical to the ones they knew or occupied themselves. But it was different in one respect, it had a second exit. There was a door exactly opposite the entrance. It was a true monster made of metal with electronic locks and other locking devices, which only the initiated were able to open.
The Commander pointed at the door. "Behind that lies the secret to our existence. Only the Commander is permitted to enter the room, anyone else must die. I can't change that law, and even if I would spare you, punishment would be inevitable. The guards would carry out the sentence."
"And how," asked the psychologist, "would the guards find out about what happened here? They are not beings made of flesh and blood but only machines built by our ancestors. Why should we bend to their will? Haven't machines been created to serve mankind? Why should that be reversed?"
The Commander did not answer. He walked on, then stopped before the door. Wordlessly he began to
work the controls. At that point D3 spoke up for the first time. "My friend PS5 has forgotten to mention that we will shoot you immediately if there is betrayal awaiting us behind that door. These are deadly weapons! I took them from a guard."
The Commander ceased moving a moment. His face displayed dismay. "A guard? And he let you do it?"
"What choice did he have? I deactivated him first. Inside he looks like a heap of scrap metal."
"A guard..."
"They are easy to outwit, Commander," the doctor assured him sarcastically. "Soon there won't be any more guards at all on this ship and the humans will rule again."
The Commander no longer hesitated. With a determined yank he turned the wheel, switched off the electronic blockers and opened the door. The three men followed him with drawn weapons. They entered the room. It was completely empty. All the walls—with the exception of one—were bare. But on that one wall there was a large screen. Bigger than life, they saw there the face of an old, white-haired man. And then it began to speak.
• • •
For two days Machinist 4 had not seen the doctor. He had meanwhile run out of that wonderful remedy. After taking it he had such splendid dreams and if he didn't get more soon he would go insane. For life, M4 now knew, was only bearable with dreams.
He reported in sick but a doctor he did not know was substituting for D3.
Still he managed to get a day off. This didn't give him much pleasure, though, because the curious looks cast at him by his colleague, M7, who was also off duty, were anything but pleasant.
"You really don't look good, M4. What's wrong with you?"
"A lot," the addicted machinist grumbled crossly. "Most of all I need peace and quiet."
But M7 could not be shaken off that easily.
"You can't fool me, old boy. Something is bothering you. A blind man could see that. You can speak frankly with me. We may hardly know each other but still we have been living in the same cabin for years and will probably continue to do so until the end of our lives."
"Lives...?" M4 echoed contemptuously then grew apprehensive and stopped. He had already said too much. But M7 suddenly smiled.
"I find life just as useless and hopeless as you do. I'm not risking anything in saying it to you, because you think the same. What are we two waiting for, anyhow? For the Death Squad to lead us to the converter. Am I right?"
"Absolutely!" M4 acknowledged and he could feel that a decision was forthcoming. Either M7 was a spy or he was a friend. If he—M4—were still alive the next day, he would know the truth.
"Good. Then tell me what is bothering you. Is it this life itself or is it something in particular?"
"Why should I burden you with my problems? Doesn't everyone have enough to do with his own?"
"A shared burden is easier to bear."
That made sense to M4. He thought it over another couple of seconds, then he said: "Doctor-3 and I cornered one of the guards and put him out of action. We stripped off his weapons and took them. After that D3 gave me a sedative that I got used to. I can't get along anymore without the dreams. But for two days D3 has been missing."
M7 was beginning to sense what was concealed within that brief description. Not just he but other men were dissatisfied with the existing order and had decided to break the supremacy of the robots and the Commander. It was pure coincidence that he had now made contact with one of those men but, as it seemed, M4 was only playing a minor role. Still he was the most important connection.
"Is a guard that easy to destroy?"
"It's not hard. Actually the robots were constructed in such a manner that nothing should be able to harm them. However, the inventors didn't forget to include one safety factor. It seems they had some bad experiences back then in that respect. There is a small, inconspicuous screw in the neck. One turn is enough to deactivate the guards. In a pinch, a hard blow will serve the same purpose. Then they are perfectly helpless, despite their treacherous energy weapons."
"So if one wanted, all the guards could be eliminated?" M4 seemed so terrified by the mere thought of it that he turned deathly pale.
"But that would be madness...!"
"Would it really, M4? What would happen if a group of determined men set out to trick every guard and deactivate them? They could gain possession of the weapons and get all the way to the Commander. The reign of terror would be at an end."
"Are we used to anything else? Didn't our ancestors live as we do? When did it all begin, I wonder?"
"I have already racked my brains with those questions, too, but not anymore. Now it's time for action. It was coincidence that D3 chose to take you into his confidence. He needed a machinist for his venture and he took you. Now I, too, am part of it. We must speak to D3 at once..."
"He has been missing for two days, M7. I don't know what has happened. Perhaps his crime was discovered..."
"Then you wouldn't be alive anymore, either." M7 shook his head. "Or do you think the doctor would have kept his mouth shut?"
"Perhaps he kept quiet," M4 contended somewhat uncertainly. "But if he is still alive—where is he?"
"That can be found out. He is the physician for our section. If I report in sick..."
"There is a substitute!"
M7 was morosely silent. He had forgotten that.
But then he said: "We will simply take action! In the next shift we shall begin to eliminate the guards. As long as no one knows our secret, all will be well. And if the incidents are discovered, other men will join in with us. In reality no one can be satisfied with this existence as long as the destination of our journey is not revealed to us.
But before they could realize their intention, the intercom shrieked in the cabin.
A voice that was obviously disguised said: "Hello, M4. Answer me!"
"M4 here," the machinist answered after he had switched on the intercom.
"Are you alone in your cabin?"
M7 nodded emphatically so that M4 replied: "Yes, I am alone. Who is speaking?"
The intonation of the voice changed and suddenly seemed very familiar to the two men. "Listen hard, M4. Take your tools and come at once to the Central Sector, Command Room. You are being awaited."
"DR3?"
"Yes, it's me. And now hurry!"
"Don't switch off!" M4 called in desperation. "Are you still there?"
"What is it?"
"May I bring along a friend?"
A brief pause. Then D3 asked: "How does he know?"
"He is with me. I can't say anything now but he is on our side. And I need my sedative again..."
"Bring your friend along," D3 decided. "But don't hesitate another moment. It's a matter of life and death—not just for you or me but for all of us living on this ship. Got it?"
"We'll come at once.
"Another thing, M4: pass by the Medical Institute and pick up a package that is waiting for me there.
You only have to mention your name."
"And if anyone asks..."
"The Commander gave you an assignment—that's what you say to anyone who stops you. Understand?"
"The Commander...?" gasped M4 but the physician had already switched off. He looked at M7.
M7 slowly nodded.
"Yes, I think I do. At last a man has had the courage to give our questionable existence meaning again. Let's hurry, M4, so he won't have acted in vain. We must help him." In rapid stride they hurried along the corridor.
2/ THE DEATH SQUAD
The face looked down at them.
It belonged to an old man. It was furrowed by deep wrinkles and displayed something akin to resignation. The eyes had a reddish cast and out of them were shining both goodness and inflexibility. Below the thin nose was a pinched mouth that exhibited mercilessness—or was it only resolution.
The Commander bowed in the direction of the screen. He, the unlimited ruler over life and death of the people, bowing to a mere picture.
Or was it a picture?
No, it wasn't, for now the face began to move and the mouth to speak. From a hidden loudspeaker there issued a pleasant-sounding, not unlikable voice, which, however, seemed devoid of any emotion.
"You have opened the door, Commander, and brought three men with you. What is the meaning of this? I had expected you to come with your successor. What are these three men doing here?"
The Commander bowed once again. He was pale and made a downcast impression. His fear of the unknown being on the screen must have been unimaginably great.
"They forced me into it, sir. If I hadn't brought them they would have killed me before I could pass on the secret to my successor. Our people would have been without a leader."
The face displayed fury.
"You have failed, Commander! Death is too mild a punishment, as you were doomed to it anyway." A short pause ensued during which the face became almost expressionless, then the voice continued: "What do you want of me and who are you?"
PS5 tried to escape the spell of the face, whose rigidity made a tremendous impression upon him. Somehow it seemed dead but on the other hand the picture could not lie. The man up there on the screen was living somewhere in an unknown region of the enormous ship...
...and he was the actual sovereign over their people!
The Commander was nothing but a puppet!
It took a great effort for the psychologist's lips to form the words: "We have come to find out the truth. Up until today we regarded the Commander as the guardian of old and obsolete laws but now we have come to realize that there is still someone else above him—you. Who, I ask in turn, are you? Where do you keep yourself hidden?"
<
br /> The face registered astonishment that soon changed to wrath. However, these emotions could not be detected in the voice itself. Calmly and as detached as before it said:
"Your questions are monstrous and contrary to the existing order. I hereby sentence you to death by converter. Commander, see that the order is carried out and alert the Death Squad. The sentence is to be enforced immediately."
PS5 smiled fiercely and aimed his weapon at the Commander.
"Good, great master," he said, ice-cold. "Then I shall proceed to kill the Commander before your eyes. We'll see what happens then."
He placed his finger on the firing pin.
The physician and R75 were still standing next to the door that led to the private chamber of the Commander. They held their weapons in readiness as they stared at the big face. They expected to hear the rumbling of metal footsteps at any instant but all remained quiet.
"Don't worry, friends," PS5 said over his shoulder. "No one will come. Who should alarm the robots if not the Commander? The great master on the screen won't do it because no one knows about his existence. Perhaps not even the guards." He turned to face the screen again. "Now, shall I kill the Commander or are you ready to negotiate?"
"What do you want?" asked the loudspeaker as the lips of the unknown being mouthed the words. He seemed to be able to adapt to the respective situation with astonishing skill.
"What is the secret that only one living being may know? It must be of fantastic significance, since when to know it, one of them must die. Still, it is just as terrible if the secret dies with the Commander. So I am asking you up there..." his manner was increasingly one of disdain rather than familiarity "—you, up there, what is that secret?"