Ark of the Stars

by Frank Borsch

  When he had almost used up his altitude, the red hatch, his destination, emerged from the haze. The stern that must have towered before him remained hidden.

  The Akonian came down hard, stumbling before he shook off the numbness from landing so abruptly. Then he pulled the quick-release latch and slipped out of the wings, leaving them behind—a painfully difficult thing for him to do. A flyer never left his wings behind: they had borne him into the heavens! He ran to the hatch. It was locked. A touch screen shone dully at eye level next to it. Hevror hit it with his fist. Nothing better occurred to him. He had no ability to finesse computers. He only knew that they never did what he wanted them to.

  This one did.

  The hatch slid to the side. Hevror ran through. A large, empty cargo hold opened up before him. At the back wall stood half a dozen armed guards, and at a distance of a few paces, a slender man wearing some sort of one-colored suit. He seemed to be looking at the floor.

  "Stop! You must stop!" Hevror ta Gosz cried and ran toward the group. The guardians raised their weapons and aimed at him, but Hevror continued to run, as though still propelled by the force of the dive that had brought him here.

  "Stop ... please!"

  The guardians didn't fire. When Hevror stopped in front of them, the man in the suit raised his head.

  Hevror read the answer in his eyes even before he saw the display screen built into the wall. It showed the area of space just beyond the stern of the star ark—and the corpses frozen into grotesque positions.

  The man's eyes seemed to be sunk deep in their sockets. Tears ran down his cheeks.

  Hevror had come too late.

  The Akonian activated his comm unit. "Solina?"

  "Yes?" came the immediate answer.

  "They ... they're dead."

  29

  "They ... they're dead."

  Denetree froze when she heard Hevror's translated words. Then, as though in slow motion, she buried her face in her hands and wept. Her knees gave way. She sank to the ground.

  "Denetree!"

  Solina started toward the Lemurian woman to comfort her—but an exclamation shifted her attention.

  "Up there!"

  The Akonian looked up and saw soldiers raining down from the sky.

  They weren't like Hevror. They weren't flying. Hevror swam through the air, played with it, made himself its toy ball, put himself in the power of the elementary forces. The soldiers cut through the air as though it didn't exist, propelled by the overwhelming force of their pulse drives.

  There were hundreds of them. Solina turned her head and saw small dots everywhere racing toward the ground in standard loose formations that denied an opponent an easy target.

  But no one fired. The Naahk's guardians cried out in fear when they saw the soldiers, then the first of them lost his nerve, threw down his weapon and ran off. The rest quickly followed his example. The soldiers let them flee.

  The band of guardians was not their objective.

  The soldiers landed. A dozen of them surrounded the group of Akonians, Terrans and Lemurians; a second dozen braked their fall over the ground and floated above the group.

  Their antigrav units operated flawlessly, and as was shown by the shining, transparent field that surrounded each soldier, so did their defense-shield projectors.

  How can that be? Solina asked herself. Why does their equipment work and not ours? What—

  "Takhan, we have them!" one of the soldiers reported into his acoustic field. Solina didn't hear a reply, but the soldier must have received an answer because he signalled his comrades to keep their weapons held ready. The soldiers belonged to her people, but they seemed ready to deal with anyone taking what they could interpret as a hostile action. A few moments later, Solina heard a humming. She turned her head cautiously and saw two more dots racing toward her.

  The dots expanded and landed near the group. They were officers. One of them was short and burly and wore more rank symbols on the chest of his battle suit than Solina had ever seen in one place before. The second was of average build and had thick, black hair combed smoothly away from his forehead. His symbols of rank Solina could interpret; she knew them from the departure of the Las-Toór, when Jere von Baloy had worn his uniform for the first and only time. He was a maphan, the commander of a ship.

  The two men were unarmed, a demonstration of their power. If they had a notion to use force, their soldiers would take care of it.

  The brawny man bowed slightly. "Takhan Gartor von Taklir, Commander of the Seventh Fleet. I see that my instinct has not betrayed me!" He stepped in front of Rhodan and saluted. "It is an honor to meet you in person, Perry Rhodan."

  "Thank you." The Immortal accepted the admiral's expression of respect with the reserved composure of a man who had experienced similar situations a thousand times before. "And to what do we owe the honor of your visit?"

  "Duty, what else? I wish I had the opportunity to chat with you, but that is impossible. Your very presence aboard this ship demonstrates the urgency of my mission." Takhan von Taklir drew himself up. "I declare this ship to be the property of Akon."

  "How so?"

  "Evaluation of the hyperdetection data from the Las-Toór and the Palenque will document that our ship detected this vessel first. Hence it falls under Akonian jurisdiction. Its inhabitants—" he bowed in the direction of the Naahk "—will naturally enjoy the care and protection of the Akonian Empire. We will ensure that they suffer no harm."

  Solina listened to the admiral's statements with her mouth hanging open. No! she wanted to scream. You can't do that! She knew that if the military confiscated the ark, she would never set foot on it again. She would die of old age before they allowed access to an insignificant historian of doubtful loyalty to the Empire.

  But Solina said nothing. She'd dealt with people in uniforms often enough in her life to know that it would only hurt her. People in uniforms loved to shout at others, and couldn't stand it when the tables were turned. If she protested now, she herself would destroy any slight chance that still remained for her to explore this treasure.

  Rhodan seemed to have been thinking along the same lines. With remarkable calm, he said, "With all due respect, Takhan, I doubt that your version of events would stand up in court."

  "We'll see about that. We are of course ready to appear before an independent court of law. I am certain that, assuming willingness to cooperate on both sides, we can have a judgment within a few years. Until then, this ship will remain in Akonian custody. Its inhabitants urgently require our assistance. As we stand here talking, a repair team has already begun installing a supplementary air supply system. The existing system is so worn out that it could break down at any moment. And I don't have to explain what that would mean, do I?"

  No one said anything.

  "I see we understand each other." He turned to the Akonian ship commander, who had followed his statements with an absent look as though his thoughts were somewhere else. "Achab, escort our Terran guests to the teleporter. Their ship is already waiting to take them out of Akonian territory. I assume that your violation of the frontier occurred unknowingly, so I will waive the penalties that are normally deemed appropriate in such cases."

  The maphan stepped forward and pointed in the direction of the ark's bow. "If you please!"

  Pearl Laneaux swore under her breath in a strangely melodious language that seemed unsuitable for obscenities. Her hand rested on the grip of her beamer. It was clear from her manner what she thought of Taklir's "politeness," but Solina had come to know her well enough to know she was too intelligent to do anything stupid. She only rattled her chains a bit to let her tormentors know that she could see right through them.

  Hayden Norwell's shoulders sagged. His was not an aggressive personality. And Rhodan? The Terran looked at her pleadingly. Do something! he begged. You're one of them, aren't you? Do something!

  Solina turned her head in shame. What could she accomplish? She was just a tiny, insi
gnificant cog in the vast workings of the Akonian Empire. This mission, these pathetically few hours, had been the only time in her life in which she had attained a position of influence, in which she been involved in something great, not as an analyzing spectator separated from events by the abyss of millennia, but as an active participant.

  It had felt so damned good.

  She didn't want it to stop.

  She had to do something. She couldn't watch idly while the chance of her life slipped through her fingers. She had to make at least an attempt to do something; just so she could live with herself.

  Use your brain! she urged herself. You've always been so proud of it, haven't you?

  Two of the Akonian soldiers stepped to the side to allow the maphan and the three Terrans to pass through.

  Solina watched them blankly. The Takhan had the whip hand—two hundred warships and several tens of thousands of soldiers to carry out his orders without question. The Seventh Fleet had secured the ark within minutes. One gesture from Gartor of Taklir, and only a cloud of stardust would remain of the Palenque—and that applied to the Las-Toór as well, if the scientists made too much trouble.

  No. Resistance was not only futile, it was suicidal.

  Rhodan, Pearl Laneaux and Hayden Norwell joined the maphan. They were passing through the ring of soldiers when Solina had her inspiration.

  Resistance was futile, but even the weak had the weapons.

  "Takhan!" she called, turning to the admiral. "May I congratulate you in the name of all the Yidari on board the Las-Toór for taking initiative so resolutely?"

  Gartor von Taklir chose to acknowledge Solina for the first time. There was an impatient gleam in his eyes. The admiral didn't seem to care for flatterers, especially when their flattery had no definite aim. Solina had to keep talking, and quickly.

  "But you shouldn't act so half-heartedly."

  "What?"

  "If you expel the Terrans—which is the only appropriate thing to do—you should expel all of them."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  Solina pointed to Denetree, who had been watching events as though stunned. "You forgot that one here."

  "That's a Terran? She isn't wearing a spacesuit like the others."

  "No, she's a specialist. The Terrans slipped her in hoping to put one over on us."

  Noticing that she was suddenly the center of attention, Denetree woke from her paralysis and murmured some words in Lemurian.

  "She isn't speaking Terran," the admiral declared suspiciously.

  "Of course not. Not now. She's trying to maintain her cover. But look at her closely! She has a Terran's fair skin! Is this secret agent to be allowed to remain on board and spy on this artifact?"

  "The Terrans can't be that stupid."

  Solina held the Takhan's gaze. "Oh, yes, they certainly can be. And they're arrogant, too. The Terrans have considered themselves lords of the galaxy for much too long, and they've gotten lazy and sluggish. If you ask me, it wasn't an accident that an Akonian fleet appeared first."

  "There's something to that. Achab, take her along!"

  The commander hesitated, then said, "But Takhan! What if she isn't a Terran? We—"

  "What does it matter? Look at the terrified little thing—what could she tell them? Let them take her with them!"

  Denetree said something in Lemurian again, louder this time. Solina stepped to her side and hissed into her ear, "By all the star gods! Get moving, girl! Go, or I'll ... "

  She gave her a shove in the direction of Rhodan and the other Terrans. Denetree went.

  * * *

  When Rhodan, Pearl Laneaux, Hayden Norwell and Denetree emerged from the teleporter on the bridge of the Palenque, they were met with outrage.

  "So here you are at last!" The uniformed Sharita Coho stamped up and down, her cheeks flaming red. "Didn't I tell you? You can't trust those Akonians! They tricked us! It's a miracle that they let you go without a scratch and ... " The commander broke off as she noticed Denetree. "Who the hell is that girl? Another Akonian? I've had my fill of them with the one we've got, with all her special requests! I ... "

  "She's a Lemurian," Rhodan said.

  "A Lem ... how did you pull that off?"

  Before Rhodan could answer, Alemaheyu Kossa broke in. "Sharita, comm message from Takhan von Taklir. We're supposed to get out of here at once, or else ... "

  "Oh, let the old man blather!"

  "But ... "

  "Did you finish my avatar? We can put it on for the admiral, the same way Jere von Baloy used his on me."

  "Just about. We've got a very decent beta version."

  "Run it. Let's see how the Akonians like the taste of their own medicine." The commander turned back to the newcomers. "All right, out with it. How did you smuggle this Lemurian out? Is she a spy?" She looked at Denetree suspiciously. The young Lemurian woman trembled. Perspiration stood out on her forehead.

  "It wasn't us," Rhodan replied. "An Akonian woman from the Las-Toór managed it."

  "Oh, come on! Why would she do that?"

  "I'm wondering the same thing." Rhodan went to Denetree and took her hands. "Can you hear me?" he asked in Lemurian. "Can you help us?"

  The Lemurian whispered an answer, but it was lost in the roar that suddenly shook the Palenque's hull.

  "Intimidation fire!" Harriett Hewes called. "The Akonians fired a salvo. They must not have found your avatar very convincing."

  "Shield load?"

  "99.3 percent of capacity. They know exactly what they're dealing with."

  Sharita shrugged. "Very well," she then said. "We shouldn't refuse such a polite request. We'll leave."

  Denetree reached under her belt and pulled out a black plastic rectangle. It was so small that the Lemurian could close her fist around it. She held it out to Rhodan.

  "What is that?" Sharita asked.

  "The reason why Solina Tormas saw to it that Denetree went with us," Rhodan replied. "A memory chip."

  The hull of the Palenque shook a second time as the Akonian fleet gave it a blazing farewell salute, then the ship transitioned into hyperspace.

  Rhodan barely noticed it. Let Takhan von Taklir imagine himself as the victor and tow the ark to the Akon system as a trophy. The Terran believed he held something much more valuable in his hands—the key to the mystery of the ark.

  Epilogue

  Maahkora, 17 April 1327 NGE

  The sun sank below the horizon.

  Alemaheyu and his companions watched the setting of the giant sun Pollaco Hermi on the helmet displays provided by their ship's syntron. Watching with their naked eyes, the prospectors would have seen only the light fading from the haze that had stubbornly persisted in the streets of the capital city of Kreytsos ever since their arrival on Maahkora. The haze consisted of a mixture of ammonia, hydrogen, methane and various trace gases, heated to a temperature of 98.7 degrees centigrade—moderate for local conditions.

  Despite his protective suit, the comm officer thought he could feel every one of those degrees. Sweat covered his body in a sticky film.

  Now and then, massive shadows emerged from the mist, paused for a moment to look at the group of humanoids, and then went on their way, always in a hurry. Because Maahkora was the Maahks' embassy planet in the Milky Way galaxy, strangers were the exception, rather than the rule. There was always something urgent to be done here.

  Still, Alemaheyu and his companions caused something of a sensation.

  Had the news spread that Perry Rhodan, the immortal Terran, was in Kreytsos?

  Unlikely. No one knew of Rhodan's presence, not even the Terran Residence.

  Or was it the size of the group that attracted attention? There were more than forty Terrans, two Blues and a Gurrad striding through the streets of Kreytsos. Only a skeleton crew, commanded by Harriett Hewes, remained on the Palenque. She was also looking after Denetree, who was still very depressed by the death of her friends.

  Or was it the group's attitude, whi
ch seemed at odds with their destination? The prospectors determinedly set one foot in front of the other. A look through their helmet faceplates would have revealed strained expressions and firmly set jaws, as though they marched toward an unpleasant, unavoidable task. This expression was overlaid by a hint of curiosity.

  The prospectors were headed toward Meklaran in Kreytsos' pleasure quarter, but they didn't give the impression that they were anticipating pleasure.

  As the light from Pollaco Hermi faded away, the street lighting brightened correspondingly. And as the prospectors increased their distance from their ship, a new sun rose before them: the lights of Meklaran.

  Alemaheyu's throat felt tight. Perry Rhodan appeared beside the Palenque's comm officer and asked, "Nervous?"

  Alemaheyu looked at the Immortal in surprise. "You know about it?"

  Rhodan nodded. "Of course. You know how it is—there are no secrets on board a ship."

  "Very true, very true." Alemaheyu swallowed. "Yeah, I'm a little nervous ... "

  "You'll be okay!" Rhodan raised his left arm, as though to slap the comm officer encouragingly on the shoulder, but dropped it again without making the gesture.

  "Thanks," was all Alemaheyu said. His thoughts, which were not, as Rhodan suspected, entirely devoted to the evening that lay before them, caught him up again in their vicious cycle.

  Before they left the Palenque, Alemaheyu had checked his console one last time. Out of habit, without any particular reason. And while he was archiving the log files from the past few days, he had stumbled on an anomaly. He hadn't had the time to investigate it more thoroughly—Sharita Coho didn't stand for lack of punctuality—but everything indicated that the antennae of the Palenque had received a hypercom impulse during that time. The ship's syntron had categorized it as a natural phenomenon of the Ochent Nebula and so hadn't notified Alemaheyu.

  Alemaheyu had quickly reached a different conclusion: the signal was artificial—and it had originated on the ark.