by Perry Rhodan
Perry Rhodan
The Third Power #31
Realm of the Tri-Planets
When Perry Rhodan discovers the home world of Khrest and Thora he finds that three planets are literally, better than one. For Perry has to confront not just Arkon I, but Arkon II and Arkon III. And each planet is dedicated to a purpose all its own: one of them... war! The warrior planet supplies a super battleship of space a mile long... and Perry Rhodan and his mutant crew find themselves serving under Thora on a deadly mission. Deadly... and violent, when the Peacelord and his allies are faced with hundreds of berserk battle-robots bent on destruction, in one of Perry Rhodan's greatest adventures. This is the stirring story of–
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REALM OF THE TRI-PLANETS
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1/ THE SECRET OF ARKON
HORNETS, swarming down from the alien skies. Their stingers, heavy energycannons. Their innards, mechanical systems pulsing under a tough armored shell in a precise rhythm whose perfection could never be achieved by an organically living conglomeration of cells.
The hornets from space were spaceships.
Aboard the Ganymede, current headquarters of the leader of Earth's New Power, sounds picked up from the exterior mikes were transmitted to the ship's loudspeakers. The interior of the ship vibrated to the low-pitched nerve-wracking song of the marching triclops outside.
The marching giants seemed unstoppable. They were an apathetic black-brown mass of bodies, reacting only to the bellowed commands of the officers as they flowed toward the landing spaceships. A thick flood of molasses, advancing sluggishly but virtually impossible to hold back.
"March of the Triclops, Fifth Movement! I should have been a composer," the tall man mocked in defiance of his vulnerable position. "I'd let the kettledrums rattle and sound the blare of the trumpets."
Nobody laughed. The scene depicted on the observation screen was too strange, too fraught with danger. The serious undertone of the events could not be disregarded.
The Naats, inhabitants of the planet Naat, had apparently been chosen to 'man' the spaceships landing on the port of Naatral although there was great reason to doubt that the 10 foot-high, bubble-headed giants were capable of understanding the complicated operations of an Arkonide battleship.
The three-eyed Naats, colonial subjects in the immediate sphere of influence of the seat of the Imperium, the planet Arkon, appeared to represent an ideal interim solution to the problems of the governing giant robot brain—assuming, that is, that a purely mechanical computer had any knowledge of such concepts. Quite likely the central brain of Arkon 'thought' along quite different lines.
The Arkonides themselves had become completely useless for such practical services because of the obvious fact of their degeneration. Therefore the Brain fell back on utilizing alien races whose unquestioned loyalty rated above mental faculties.
"It'll be a disaster!" Reginald Bell prophesied gloomily. "They'll trample everything down like a herd of elephants and empty the larder with their first meal!"
"Is that so?" Perry muttered laconically.
Bell frowned. He looked defiantly around, seeking support, but none of the thousand men aboard the Ganymede were in a very cheerful mood at the moment so the rambunctious redhead stalked off, muttering under his breath.
• • •
The Command Center of the second largest battleship in the space arsenal of the New Power, led by Perry Rhodan, was located 2500 feet above the ground. Only a few days earlier it had appeared that no power known could resist the abundant energy of the gigantic spacer. This belief was shockingly shattered when the 'invincible' Ganymede encountered an Arkonide robot ship, was captured and steered by remote control to the fifth world of the Arkon system. As a consequence the newest battleship of the Earthlings rested immobilized on the wide pads of its telescopic support legs whose hydraulic power strained to resist the heavy pull of Naat's gravity. This alien land of deserts exerted 2.8 G.
The landing field of the spaceport, empty for hours, now suddenly became as busy as a hill of ants. It gave the impression that the Great Empire was again on the verge of dealing a final mighty blow to the rebellious colonial races.
The mustering of the nonhumanoid Naats was a clear sign that the billions of the Arkonide population were no longer capable of serving in the numerous spaceships as was taken for granted thousands of years ago.
It had been learned beyond a shadow of a doubt that the amazing new initiative had been taken not by organic beings but by the greatest robot brain in the known universe.
Perry Rhodan inwardly shuddered as he studied the deployment of the fleet with the aid of his optical instruments. The lineup of the smallest to the heaviest units was almost legendary.
They had counted more than 100 battleships of the Imperium class alone, each one of them as well-armed as the mighty Stardust II left behind in their own solar system as the backbone of the defense armada stationed there.
"If they want to, they could blow us sky high," Col. Freyt murmured in a choked voice. Freyt acted officially as Commander of the 2800 foot-high, 600 foot-wide Ganymede .
Rhodan slowly turned away from the observation screen. Freyt looked into a tense face.
He looks haggard, Freyt thought, feeling considerable apprehension. If Rhodan lost his nerve the hitherto relatively mild inconvenience of their imprisonment could change into a dire dilemma.
"Who are they? " Rhodan inquired.
The tip of Freyt's tongue flicked over his lips. He looked a little uncertain. "I mean of course the robot brain in control of Arkon, sir!" be confessed.
"Then you've used the wrong expression. Generally speaking, it seems to me there are still quite a few erroneous ideas around concerning the present situation. It's senseless to characterize the action of a gigantic machine by the concepts of right or wrong. How could a robot differentiate between them if it never makes a value judgment. Only logical and practical factors exist for it. But logical conclusions are very seldom—and then only by pure accident—identical with what is considered 'right' by humanity. Do you follow me?"
Rhodan looked around. No, they didn't quite understand it. However everybody aboard the Ganymede knew that they were held down by powerful energy fields on the spaceport of Naatral. The flight to the home of the Arkonides Khrest and Thora—begun with such hopeful promise—had ended in failure. They never managed to get beyond the orbital path of the fifth planet.
"Of course I don't wish to say I consider this desolate desert land our final destination," Rhodan added with a faint smile. "Look down there, gentlemen! The Naats are marching to the waiting ships where they'll be assigned by robots according to their abilities. We're witnessing the downfall of a highly civilized race, the people of Arkon. It's rare that wars are won by letting other people do your fighting. The Great Empire faces a battle of life and death. It's remarkable that the old Arkonides already foresaw this degeneration a few thousand years ago and took precautionary measures. They had the technical knowledge to build a gigantic machine and program it in such a manner that it began to act independently at the critical moment of acute peril. The Galactic Council of Arkon has been circumvented. What we're experiencing now has been originated by the machine. We've already learned enough about the noble families of Arkon to know that they've reached a point where they can do no more than get upset over a trampled flowerbed. As a result they've been written off by the robot brain."
"Do you realize what this means, sir?" a man from the math team interjected.
A shadow came over Rhodan's eyes. "I'm afraid I do. There are terrible times ahead. The robot will strike hard wh
erever it suspects a transgression of the Empire's laws. The programming of the machine is ancient and the data are based on anachronistic conditions. Thus the robot will try to intervene in the fate of the Galaxy with the outdated policies of expansionism and colonial rule. It could happen that entire worlds would be annihilated for trivial causes. The machine has all the requisite power. The fleet of the Imperium has been taken out of mothballs and practically over night put back in action."
"So we arrived just at the right moment to get in on the fun," Reginald Bell snickered. "May we learn how you propose to get to the main planet of Arkon? This beastly machine can let us starve in midair."
"That's a matter of opinion," Rhodan murmured. "I... what is it?"
John Marshall, telepath and Chief of the Mutant Corps on board the Ganymede listened with closed eyes to impulses which only he and other mutants could understand. "Thora is coming back," he said in a muted voice. "She's in a state of great excitement... no, she's deeply disheartened."
Marshall opened his eyes and noticed Rhodan's intense look. "I could've predicted as much," the Commander said tersely. "OK, we're left to our own devices again. Khrest!"
The Arkonide standing in the background of the Command Center was awakened from his lethargic attitude. His white hair fluoresced in the light of the observation screens which still depicted the frightful march of the triclops people. The Naats were running part of the way on all fours and became erect only when they got closer to the open air hatches of the spaceships, where they began to parade in their swaying gait.
Khrest, the Arkonide scientist and member of the Zoltral dynasty that had ruled in earlier days, betrayed his mood only by his impassive, vacant look. "This is the end," he said tonelessly. "When a machine takes over the rule it means the ruin of real life as we knew it. My family has been dismissed from all offices six years ago. Orcast XXI of the Orcast family has been installed as the new Imperator by the robot brain. Of course he exists only as a figurehead which is probably also true for the 128 members of the Galactic Council. Don't delude yourself, my friend! We'll be lucky if they let us fly back again."
Rhodan smiled grimly and gritted his teeth. "Khrest, we've never expected to take over or to save the Empire merely by putting in an appearance. We don't think we're that great or important."
"The human race is greater and stronger than most people know," replied Khrest. "You're like my ancestors were 10,000 years ago. You've got that terrific urge to plunge forward with bold leaps. I'm afraid the robot will correctly analyze the situation and put considerable obstacles in your path. Don't try to reach Arkon! Here comes Thora."
Rhodan looked at the videoscreen. An official vehicle of the Arkonide Administrator of Naat approached at high speed without the slightest regard for the safety of the native masses marching on the wide terrain. Rhodan silently motioned to Bell, who went down the antigravitor to open an air hatch for the Arkonide woman.
They watched on the video as Thora stepped into one of the huge rear fins of the Ganymede. Ten minutes later she emerged in the Command Center, greatly disturbed and near a nervous breakdown.
Her slim face was reddened. She wore once more the becoming uniform of an Arkonide battleship commander. On her left shoulder patch she displayed the symbols of Zoltral dynasty, before which all people would have bowed six years before. But today nobody turned a head.
Breathing heavily, Thora sank into an armchair. She finally opened her eyes when she felt Rhodan's hand on her arm.
"Alright, let's not talk about it," Rhodan said softly. "Try to forget it. I know you've been insulted and turned down by that dimwit who calls himself Administrator of Naat. Of course he's in no position to give us permission to start because the robot brain doesn't approve of it."
Thora's eyes became moist. Nobody had ever seen the proud Arkonide woman cry before. "That wasn't the worst," she confessed with unnatural calm. "That wretch dared give me, a Zoltral, to understand that my crew and I could possibly be very welcome."
"Oh?"
"Serving as auxiliary forces under the command of a robot!" she cried out. Her face was distorted. "Can you imagine that? We're supposed to wait on the decision of a robot! This means they even refuse to let us fly back. Perry, I beg you in the name of everything that is sacred to me, do something! There's no longer a Great Empire. I admit what I've always tried to deny: my people are weak, spoiled, depraved, not very smart and terribly tired."
"With some exceptions, young lady," Rhodan said with emphasis. "Indeed, some very great exceptions! I'm looking at one sitting before me right now. So they want to press us into their service? I guess they'd like to have the Ganymede too. Clever idea, isn't it?"
Rhodan turned on his heel. The men fell silent before his famous ironic smile which was too gentle and sweet to inspire calm confidence.
"Lt. Tifflor!"
The young officer snapped to attention. He had recently graduated from the Space Academy and was already decorated with a Silver Comet for meritorious service in the Springer mission, when fresh out of school.
Tiff, as he was called for short, thought his last hour had come. He knew that expression of Rhodan's only too well. It was the same smile he had on his lips when Tifflor was sent as secret agent on his most bewildering assignment.
"Sir?" the 20-year-old officer asked.
"Prepare a Gazelle reconnaissance ship for immediate start. Provide full armament and equipment for a long flight. The outer hatches must remain closed. Thank you!"
"Marshall! Select nine men with complementary capabilities from your Mutant Corps. I need 10 good men on board including you, thank you!"
"Bell! Assemble 40 experienced veterans of the old taskforce Vega Sector. Volunteers only, please. Lieutenant Tifflor, take note that you'll have about 55 men aboard your Gazelle."
"Col. Freyt! You'll remain here with the Ganymede. Maintain full battle alert at all times! Let the men sleep and eat at their battle stations. You must be ready to take off within 10 seconds when you receive my signal. Can you do it?"
Freyt was puzzled. "Did you say take off, sir?" he gasped in astonishment. "With the Ganymede ? We've already tried that before, sir! When we increased our thrust to two million tons the captive field forces went up to an absorption value of at least three million tons. How do you expect me to do it, sir?"
"Start up the moment you get my signal!" Rhodan repeated calmly. "It all depends on the success we have with our trip to Arkon. You know I resent dancing to the tune of a machine. According to my experience with robot brains of Arkonide design they all contain a safety factor which prevents them from going beyond certain limits. It's unlikely that the local brain will behave differently.
"You forget that that same machine has administered a paralyzing shock to the Administrator Sergh," Khrest interjected excitedly.
"Sure, but it was our fault. I'd intruded into the palace with Bell and Tako. At any rate I'm going to take a look at that peculiar Imperator. You can bet on that!"
Thora stared at him admiringly with wide eyes. This was the same forceful man she had met for the first time 13 years ago on Terra's moon. He had begun to exert his dominance at the outset and little had changed his attitude ever since.
Tifflor rushed out and the Ganymede soon was caught up in a burst of frantic activity.
Finally Bell couldn't keep his question any longer and he asked with a growl, "Would you enlighten us, mastermind, how you figure you can escape with the Gazelle and land on Arkon? If I remember correctly we're sitting right in the middle of a battery of field projectors."
"Which however don't respond to five-dimensional energy frequencies," Rhodan stated dryly. "The prescription is simple: take a teletransmitter and zoom away! You'll admit that not even the Arkonides have technical achievements like that in their bag of tricks."
Bell was dumbfounded. He closed his eyes and thought: Of course, that fabulous machine from the planet Wanderer! What else!
"Are you coming with us?" Thor
a and Khrest heard the question directed to them and exchanged a quick glance with each other. Rhodan observed Thora blanch.
The telepath John Marshall suddenly perked up and stood stiffly in front of the open door. Rhodan became apprehensive. Narrowing his eyes he tried to understand what Marshall had discovered.
"Do you plan to land directly on Arkon?" Khrest inquired hesitantly.
"Where else? I've got to talk to the right people. What's the matter?"
Marshall came slowly closer. Rhodan's brain received his warning impulse at the same moment Thora decided to reveal her last secret. "I've no reason to keep silent any longer," she said quietly. "Perry, if you want to land on Arkon you'll have to decide on which of the planets you can carry out your plans."
Rhodan became more relaxed again when Marshall confirmed that the truth was out. "On which planet?" he repeated helplessly. "I don't understand. Arkon is Arkon, or is it?"
"This is something which you've never been taught in your hypno-training, Perry," Khrest interjected. "Arkon consists of three worlds which are all named Arkon. Arkon 1, the Crystal World, is exclusively reserved for residential dwellings. 2 serves the Galactic trade, internal industries and agriculture. 3 is the planet of war where the fleet is stationed and the biggest munitions of the universe are located. It is also the seat of the superrobot brain. It's the only secret of my race which we've kept from you till now."
Rhodan sat down thoughtfully in slow motion. He idly adjusted his belt while his thoughts were spinning around in his mind. "Three worlds?" he whispered. "Great Scot, how's that possible? Arkon is the third planet of your sun, isn't it? Where are the other segments of the planet?"
An unbearable expectant silence hung over the vast Command Center as Khrest paused before he continued his explanation of the wonder in a choked voice: "The tri-planet system is made up of three bodies in identical orbits and at the same constant distance of 370 million miles from the sun. The position of these synchronized worlds, as they're also called, corresponds to an equilateral triangle. The seasons of the planets never vary since their axes have no inclination and their paths describe a perfect circle. The mean temperature is about 90° F on the terrestrial scale. Arkon is a unique phenomenon in the Galaxy. I've always been very proud of it until a few weeks ago."