by Perry Rhodan
Bell's face was pale as he muttered, "You're showing great moderation again! Does it have to be a spacer of the Imperium class? We couldn't even man a single gun turret. Why not a smaller one?"
Rhodan cast a questioning glance at Sengu. The mutant shook his head which meant that they were not under electronic surveillance.
"You seem to underestimate Arkon 3 to a dangerous degree. If we can escape at all it'll only be possible in one of the heavier ships. I don't see why we should be satisfied with anything less."
"And theGanymede, sir?" Marshall interjected short and to the point.
Rhodan furrowed his brow. Marshall had put his finger on a most troublesome problem. "We'll have to wait and see," Perry decided. "Freyt has his instructions. If we can make it back to Arkon 5 we're sure to arrive with a big bang. It won't do the technical installations there much good if a gigantic ship comes roaring in from hyperspace in close proximity. Besides, Freyt has got his teletransmitter. Planning too far ahead with preconceived ideas has a nasty habit of going awry in 99 out of 100 cases. Let's see what kind of a ship we're entrusted with on Arkon 3. If we can't at least lay our hands on a heavy cruiser, then..."
"...then we'll give up," Bell interrupted.
"...then we'll see from there," Rhodan finished his sentence. "A smart man once said, 'Nothing is easier than deceiving a machine, provided one knows how the mechanism of the robot functions." We're going to take a good look at it."
A videoscreen lit up. It was Thora. "We'll land in 15 minutes," she announced with the cool remoteness of an Arkonide command. "Tan Ro, you'll lead your men outside. Further instructions will follow later."
Rhodan, whose name was Tan Ro according to his ID tag, correctly saluted in the Terranian manner. From now on they were likely to be watched by distant observers.
The screen went dark again and silence reigned in the mess hall. In Rhodan's eyes was a searching look. He noticed the growing tension on all faces.
"Well, well, let's have another go at it!" the commander twitted them. "Long live the Empire which we're serving now! Ivan, don't start quarreling now, O.K.?"
The two heads of the eight foot mutant faced each other. "Agreed, my beloved brother," Ivan the younger said in a high-pitched voice.
"I'm willing to forget that it was you whose mind awakened half a second after mine."
"I thought we had agreed that it was only a third of a second," the second head snorted. "Besides I've got new proof that I woke up before you. O.K., let's stop arguing now. We'll talk about it some other time."
The burly body that was under the influence of both heads remained still.
"Man, are we going to have fun!" Pucky exulted in anticipation. His spoon-shaped beavertail smacked the floor in staccato. "We'll have a ball, Chief! I'm waiting for your sign."
"Showoff!" Bell whispered. "As if it were that simple."
Pucky bared his big tooth.
"Cut it out!" Rhodan tried to stay the ensuing discussion. "Wuriu, can you see anything?"
"The sickle of a planet is growing larger. We ought to be there pretty soon."
Rhodan picked up his impulse-beamer without a word. They had to leave the lighter handguns behind since they were not a part of their outfit. Instead they had been issued the latest model of the Arkonide weapons industry.
"This stuff is a little too hot for close combat," Rhodan murmured with a grim smile. "Oh, here we are!"
The mounting roar of the field projectors which had been started up shook the vessel. They could hear the shrill howling and hissing as the auxiliary ship plunged at high speed into the atmosphere of the globe.
Seconds later all observation screens lit up and caused the passengers to turn abruptly around.
"You've been granted permission to view Arkon 3," Thora's voice explained. "I've made contact with the Great Coordinator. It bids you welcome."
Thora's message was ended. The men looked at each other in astonishment. Now they knew what the robot brain on the war planet called itself: "Great Coordinator!" Rhodan echoed. "Hmm, I wonder if that thing has ambitions. Keep quiet, no discussions! Look around. Great Scot..."
Rhodan stopped in the middle of the sentence. He stared incredulously at the observation panels. As the auxiliary ship hurtled down, landscapes were flitting by which were no real landscapes at all. There were rows upon rows of factories and huge plants followed each other in uninterrupted succession. No vegetation could be seen anywhere and the ground never rose to a height that could be called a hill.
It was a completely leveled surface which totally consisted of steel, plastic and other artificial materials. Only the oceans had been left in their original state.
They had been told that there were 25,000 spaceship yards on Arkon 3. The entire planet was devoted to the construction of space fleets. It looked as if the entire globe was completely paved over with one vast city.
Only the numerous spaceports with their powerful transmitters relieved the monotonous sight of technical installations. In addition Arkon 3 was for the greater part honeycombed with subterranean hangars for the spaceship industry and many manufacturing plants, as for instance those for engines were located 15,000 feet underground. It was truly the most gigantic war machine of the Galaxy.
Here and there the fluorescent hemispheres of enormous energy shields were visible. Arkon 3 was somewhat bigger than Earth and its average gravitation 1.3G.
The spaceports swarmed with spherical vessels of all sizes. A fleet had been assembled here whose power was limitless.
"I'm slowly beginning to understand what it takes to consolidate an Empire," Rhodan mused. "We're hopelessly dwarfed by comparison. How could we ever dream of taking over these stupendous resources?"
He looked around almost helplessly. There was no answer. Far ahead emerged the largest energy shield they had so far sighted. It covered an area which was too wide to be seen in its entirety from the low altitude they had reached meanwhile. The upper limit of the protective dome stretched into the highest layers of the atmosphere.
Rhodan realized that they skirted the seat of the central brain that called itself The Great Coordinator. Kenos had told him that the switch installations covered an area of 2500 square miles and that the most advanced Arkonide micro-technique had been used throughout.
Generations of technicians had worked on its construction for more than 8000 years. Section upon section had been added and interconnected till there was nothing left of facts and know-how that could be added for instant recall. How deeply the brain was imbedded in the ground nobody knew. It was completely self-sufficient and its energy stations could run for millions of years.
"We can hardly wait that long," Rhodan murmured.
The auxiliary ship flew around the energy dome in a wide curve till it came to another spaceport.
Minutes later they touched down. The engines stopped and the safety hatches of the crew's quarters slid open with a sucking sound.
"Disembark and get in formation!" a robot's instruction came through the amplifier.
The men pressed outside. There was no further check this time. They lined up near the telescopic landing gear of the 200 foot sphere and waited till Thora and Khrest arrived.
Any desire they had felt for exchanging their thoughts was stifled by their environment which was not inductive to airing their hopes and plans.
Before them, at both sides and behind them, ships and ships were lined up in long strings. A little farther to the right more than 50 giants towered under the cloudless sky and the scorching white Arkon sun.
Mammoth spheres of the familiar Imperium class, measuring 2500 feet in diameter, were assembled in squadrons. Yet this was not what took Rhodan's breath away although these colossal spaceships in such abundant numbers could indeed give the human astronauts a sinking feeling full of inferiority complexes.
"No!" Rhodan softly stammered. "No!"
He could hear the deep breathing of Thora, who was also fascinated by the sight before h
er eyes.
Not far behind the ships of the Imperium class, two other vessels of identical spherical shape soared into the sky. If the Imperiumspacers were enormous, these other two units were supermonsters. The latters' bulging rings around the equators of the spheres, which no doubt housed the propulsion engines, were at the same height where the upper pole cupola of the Imperium class battleships ended. This facilitated an estimate of their size.
It was well-nigh impossible to behold a full view of these two mountains despite the considerable distance. Overwhelmed, Rhodan closed his eyes, only to open them wide again. "I thought the immense Imperium class represented your most powerful ships," Rhodan said in a halting voice. "Thora, for heaven's sake, what's all this? These two giants must be nearly a mile high! Who built them?"
Thora's face was pale as she hastily replied: "There were some plans during the rule of our dynasty for the construction of ships of this size called Universe class, I believe. However, nothing ever came of it, at least not 13 years ago when I left. But a lot of things have happened during my absence."
Rhodan couldn't take his eyes off the superbattleships. He was unaware that his men watched him with burning interest till Bell groaned: "I'm going to flip my mind! Buddy, don't you get any big ideas! You'll never get a tub like that!"
"At least 5000 feet," Rhodan pensively whispered; "5000 feet without the support legs. I guess they must have a hundred times more fighting power than ourStardust II. Simply incredible! O.K., well talk about it later, not now."
Meanwhile Thora got into a car which hovered close above the ground, cushioned by an electric field.
The sudden blast of strident rhythmic music broke Rhodan's train of thought. His brain was already working feverishly on a new scheme. He couldn't help glancing back at those two mountains of Arkonide steel which made the ships of the Imperium class look like cute little toys.
"I bid the defenders of the Empire welcome to Arkon 3!" a voice reverberated. Then the music started blasting again. Soon they saw a big vehicle coming their way. It had enough room for more than 50 men. This time they were not forced to march under the broiling sun.
"Chat with each other!" Rhodan passed the word. "Pretend to be happy and curious. Laugh. It's all part of the game. Show 'em that we're alive. Don't act as if you were drugged. You've got to get over your surprise sometime!"
A boisterous, chattering mob climbed into the low vehicle. Before it started to move Rhodan took a last look at the battleships of the superclass. Then his eyes turned to their distant destination at the end of the vast spaceport.
7/ MORE ABOUT THE WAR WORLD
The axis rotation of the third synchronized planet in the inner Arkon system corresponded to a value of
28.4 hours Terranian time.
By contrast to all celestial bodies in the universe where nights occur, or at least twilight sets in, this was not the case with this extraordinary planet.
Robots required no sleep, no rest and no recreation. The constant pounding of fully automatic machines
and assembly lines clanked a rhythm in a world where the concept of darkness was unknown.
Atomic suns substituted for the light of the natural pivotal star whenever night reigned on the hemisphere. Billions of stationary relay stations and mobile robot repair crews were constantly at work.
Arkon 3, where before the takeover of the all-embracing central control brain the deadly calm of expired activity had remained in its last gasps, now—since six years Terranian time—was throbbing with new vigor.
The most prolific war industry of the Galaxy had undertaken the mass production of spaceships with a vengeance such as if the days of yore—of annexation and conquest by power—had to be resurrected over night from the abyss of melancholy memories.
Rhodan tried to envision the problem of providing raw materials for example.
The natural resources of Arkon 3 itself were completely exhausted. There was not an ounce of ore left which was worth mining.
A well-directed mercantile fleet was continually plying the trade routes of the universe to haul in the necessary goods. At authorized transshipment wharves on planets 5, 6, 7 and 8 merchandise coming from the farthest recesses of the Galaxy was stored and transferred to Arkon 3.
The mills on Arkon, #2, devoted to the manufacturing of high grade industrial products, had started to roll again as well in order to insure the well-being of the Empire.
Rhodan quickly gave up his attempt to grasp even a partial problem of this truly gigantic organization. It was beyond comprehension.
But he had thereby come to realize the real reason for the establishment of such a colossal robot brain. Even the old, still-active Arkonides had no longer been capable of supervising the myriads of tasks. It could only be handled by a machine which had taken on fantastic dimensions due to the countless numbers of highly specialized and intricate circuits.
Meanwhile the taskforce had spent 32 hours on this world of total mechanization. There was hardly an Arkonide in sight but many people from all corners of the Galaxy ruled by the Empire.
The robot colossus was on the verge of administering the rapid hypno-training even to underdeveloped races in order to man its spaceships.
Almost hourly numerous squadrons zoomed into space and they heard rumors that one of the most gruesome military actions in the history of the Empire raged in the vicinity of stellar cluster M13.
Rebellious colonial nations that had shaken off the weakening bonds of the ancient dominion in the course of 500 years and were suddenly faced with an alternative: unconditional surrender or ruthless extermination. The robot brain acted logically, without scruples, and didn't ask questions as to how many lives were snuffed out or what cruel injustice was committed.
Rhodan's mind was shaken to the core when he thought of the possibility of an accidental discovery of Earth.
The hall was flat, spacious and without a personal note. Here the newly recruited men came and went.
Each race was assigned its own quarters where they were confined to the most practical degree. Food and drink were promptly served.
There were mostly the Triclopean Naats who had gathered here. Their area was next to the one reserved for Rhodan's men.
The mutants were more than usually watchful. An incredible din pervaded the large room. Quarrels were rampant everywhere. The mentalities of the various people clashed. Especially the Naats were picking fights. It was one of their more prominent traits.
Behind them blue-skinned figures with huge beads squatted on the floor. Nonhumanoid beings were not present. It was known that the robot brain followed the principles of the old Arkonide conquerors.
Nonhumanoid and non-oxygen-breathing beings always proved to be the most irreconcilable enemies of the state and they were the prime targets of their battleship expeditions.
The zone of the humans was furnished with comfortable armchairs. The robot brain endeavored in every respect to keep its crews as happy as possible.
Bell squinted, full of suspicion, at the three-eyed Naats. They got into another brawl until they were separated by the suddenly appearing fighter robots who treated them by no means with kid gloves.
The untrammeled yelling of the 10 foot giants gave way to a muffled growl.
"If somebody had told me 13 years ago that I'd spend my hours at this place, I'd have had a screaming fit," Bell comment despondently. "I'm slowly beginning to understand why they've given us such an awfully friendly welcome."
A husky European of the commando team shrilly whistled through his fingers. With a broad grin he watched the service robot scurrying to him to dutifully take his orders.
"Don't overdo it," Rhodan apprehensively admonished. "I've got a feeling as if they're already holding a knife at our throats. Tiff, did you recover from your examination?"
Tifflor touched his head with a doleful grin where two bluish pressure spots were visible at his temples. "I don't want to go through this again," he groaned. "The machine wante
d to know why all of us have such an exceedingly high IQ. I'm afraid, sir, it's suspicious of us."
The tight circle of men had become a little quieter.
"Stick together!" Rhodan murmured. "When Kakuta returns, get up and drink a toast. Start dancing, for all I care, but keep him out of sight!"
"Sir, I've got a hunch you'll be subjected again to the brainwave detector," Sgt. Rous said with anxiety. "We've all been through it but they took more time with you. Each one of us has been questioned how it's possible that a man from Zeklon #5 has twice as high an IQ as a top scientist from Arkon."
Rhodan's face remained impassive. He also had an inkling that he would be required once more to undergo another brainwave pattern test. Of course the automaton had made use of its facilities for checking the mental faculties of the people sent by Admiral Kenos. This had taken place 12 hours after their arrival.
Rhodan felt his hands get moist when he thought of the hall of gleaming metal where rows of detectors were lined up. Bell looked at him with quizzical eyes. His unusually high IQ had also drawn attention.
"We'll have to wait," Rhodan said with determination. "We'll need more time. Thora will do everything to be put in charge of a big ship. Since the robot brain acts only in accordance with logical and practical considerations without regard to emotions, it should be clear that it would assign the most outstanding crew to the best ship. Tako, don't get out of line! Where's Tako?"
Marshall lowered his head in concentration. "No impulses, sir," he softly replied. "There are too many energy screens and they prevent a good contact."
Rhodan remained calm. But his example failed to quiet the fears of his men who were more than ever keyed up and alert for trouble. Something was in the air!
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