by Perry Rhodan
Markon turned, ignoring Bogar. With automatic precision he walked on, right into the path of the bunched rays of the positron pistols shielding himself from their effect. He proceeded toward one of the soldiers and with one jerky movement took away his half-raised sword. With the flat side of the blade he hit the man in the small of the back. The soldier began to stagger but caught himself in time before he hit the ground and raced off screaming at the top of his voice.
Now two other barbarians made a decision. The choice was not difficult as far as they were concerned. Either they would give up the fight and perish or they would try to defend themselves and have at least a sporting chance to reach safety.
Resolutely they attacked Markon. Bell, who still kept surveying the scene, noticed with surprise how excellent and skilful a fighter Markon turned out to be. This was, of course, also due to the most efficient protection of his Arkonite body hull. The sword blows bounced off the metal without leaving as much as a dent. On the other hand, Markon's first two mighty blows smashed the barbarians' armor to pieces. Sparks were flying as the thin iron sheeting was being cut to ribbons. Both barbarians fled in panic, immediately to be joined by the rest of the soldiers in their headlong flight.
"The Gods are on our side!" shouted Lesur to the fleeing enemy and simultaneously this stopped his own men who were so scared that they were about to follow suit.
"Cease fire!" yelled Bell to his friends. Bogar was taken prisoner. Markon carefully placed the damaged sword on a stone ledge and said to Bell:
"A most interesting way of fighting. A certain skill seems indispensable for it."
Khrest intervened: "Markon, you know you have some vulnerable spots! If they would have been accidentally hit by a blow with the soldiers' swords you would have been finished."
"He had to run that risk," Bell defended the robot, who seemed to become increasingly sympathetic to him by the minute.
Meanwhile Lesur reached the entrance to the hall. He announced the Gods' victory over the barbarians who had been sent fleeing for their lives. Indescribable scenes of rejoicing followed. Shouting and yelling triumphantly, women and children surged out into the corridor and prostrated themselves before Bell and Markon. Khrest and Haggard stayed in the background, observing the scene with mixed emotions. In the midst of an adoring crowd stood Bell and Markon, a human being and a creature consisting of metal and positronic circuitry. From somewhere came Bogar's pitiful whining. From up above the clanging of arms could still be heard. The Ferrons were chasing out the enemy.
Lesur exited from the hall, approached Bell and fell to his knees in front of him. With an imploring gesture he lifted his arms.
"Praise the mighty Gods! Our eternal gratitude is yours! We were certain that you would come to our assistance in our hour of need. The enemy has been defeated. Now tell us your price! We will pay whatever you demand!"
Bell racked his brains. What would Rhodan say in his place? What after all was the reason for their coming here? The spaceships of the Arkonide expedition ten thousand years ago! That's why they had traveled back in time!
"Noble Lesur," Bell began cautiously, "no special tribute is needed. But we plan to stay here with you for several days. We're waiting to welcome our friends who soon will arrive from out of the skies. Then we'll depart again."
"Friends from the skies?" Lesur stammered in awe. "So you'll go back again into the locked chamber?"
"Yes, back into the secret room," replied Bell and glanced down on the bowed heads at his feet.
And he emitted a deep, deep sigh.
What a pity, he thought, that Rhodan isn't here to witness this spectacle.
5/ TIME TURNED BACK
Two days had gone by.
The members of the time traveling expedition were still staying in the reconquered castle as guests of the Ferronian count. Busily scurrying servants brought food, drink and anything else they needed. Meanwhile, Ras Tschubai had locked the chamber with the time machine from the inside to prevent any unauthorized persons from entering. Rhodan did not wish to forfeit their only path back to present time.
A talk with Lesur had reassured Rhodan that the Arkonides would not be the first space travelers to land on Ferrol.
"Many summers and winters ago," the count reported in a mysterious tone, "the first Gods descended from the skies. Our forefathers came to their assistance. As a reward they received those peculiar gifts that are still to be seen all over the country. Down below in my castle's cellars is also one of these cages. No one is permitted to come close to it for we have lost the knowledge of how to use them properly. Many courageous men who entered that cage have vanished from sight, never to return."
"They didn't come back?" Rhodan asked, puzzled. He could communicate quite passably with the precursor of the later Thort but there were still many things he could not comprehend. It was obvious that the Ferrons of this particular era had not yet figured out the significance of the matter transmitters. Ensuring centuries or thousands of years would probably have to pass before they would acquire the necessary knowledge and insight.
"Nearly all failed to return," Lesur said. "A strange story. He was a scientist. He entered the cage down in the cellar and moved the lever. Then he vanished. Not until two years later did he reappear in the castle, disheveled and starved. He claimed to have wandered hallway around our planet; but he couldn't explain how he had ever gotten to the other side of the world."
It'll take a long time, Rhodan thought to himself, before these half-savages will be able to understand teleportation. It would be premature to try to enlighten them. Besides, it was none of his business to do so. The transmitters, however, interested him very much indeed.
"May I see this apparatus?"
"The box cage?" Lesur hesitated. He seemed to fear that the Gods who had saved them from destruction might disappear in it. "If you insist on it; my Lord..."
"We're well acquainted with these instruments," Rhodan reassured the count. "And if I vanish in it, I promise you to return soon."
Rhodan risked the jump on the afternoon of the second day. He rematerialized somewhere in the middle of the night. The transmitter had indeed transported him around to the other side of Ferrol. As far as he could make out in the darkness, the matter receiver-transmitter was located in some kind of a temple on a mountaintop, all alone and abandoned. A forgotten shrine of past generations.
It was not forgotten after all. Hardly had Rhodan materialized when shadowy figures moved among the stone walls of the dilapidated temple. Silently they closed in on him. Their hands brandished glittering swords. In the faint glow of the stars Rhodan recognized flowing robes.
Priests!
He did not hesitate. Immediately he activated the sending mechanism of the transmitter and stood again in the cellar of the castle in front of the baffled Lesur.
Lost in thought, Rhodan went to the group's quarters. His conjectures had been confirmed. The immortals had provided the savage Ferrons with a grandiose transportation system all over Ferrol. But the purpose had remained a mystery for the half-savage tribes. Here inside the castle the transmitter Stood unused, while on the other side of the planet it was jealously guarded by suspicious priests. No doubt all who had dared the leap into the unknown had been murdered, all except the scientist.
On the morning of the third day the three ships of the Arkonides touched down on Ferrol.
Commander Kerlon's resemblance to Khrest was only superficial. This epoch's Arkonides showed no sign yet of any degeneration. The race was still at the height of its development. The galactic empire was flourishing and grew larger with each successful expedition. And Kerlon knew that he was on the track of the most fantastic mystery—immortality, eternal life!
Somewhere in this section of the galaxy there was a planet that was the home of a race that had discovered the secret of cell rejuvenation. Kerlon's expedition had detected clues pointing to this secret during several landings on planets throughout the galaxy.
All signs pointed to this system, as well as to another one that was twenty-seven light-years distant. A yellow star with nine planets. One of these planets was characterized by a triple ring around it.
Kerlon had landed first on an uninhabited continent of the eighth planet of this system which had altogether forty-three planets. His choice to touch down on this particular world had been quite arbitrary. The rocky high plateau was devoid of any sign of life. Only the tall, four-cornered pyramid of some unknown metal revealed that some intelligent life-form must have preceded them here.
A thousand years ago? Or ten thousand years?
The pyramid was hollow and easily opened. Without delay Kerlon and some of his scientists entered. They were courageous and brave. They did not know fear. He acted automatically and unconsciously, by sheer instinct.
Kerlon found, deep below the surface, a small five-cornered room with a table. An object was lying on the table. From the walls of the room came an even glow that made the object recognizable. It was as if the object itself was aglow but in reality it merely reflected the light from the surrounding walls.
A metallic cylinder. A hollow cylinder?
Kerlon's companions were apprehensive as their commander stepped forward to touch the object. What if the unknown's patience had finally come to an end? Had he not lured them now into a cleverly constructed trap?
But nothing of the sort happened. Kerlon picked up the cylinder. It was light and easy to handle about one foot long and four inches thick. There was a lid at one end but all attempts to unscrew it failed.
Impatiently, Kerlon returned to his spaceship. Most unwillingly he handed the cylinder over to his scientists. He felt deep satisfaction when they, too, fared no better than he had in trying to open it.
Once more Kerlon went back to the pyramid. But he found nothing of importance. Then one of his scientists detected in a side room an odd-looking cage. Kerlon noticed a lever inside. So he entered the cage and depressed the lever. Kerlon was one of those who never hesitated to risk their own life for the common good.
His companions were absolutely convinced that the unknowns would destroy him this time. Kerlon was bound to fall victim to their wrath. And when their commander vanished suddenly, They no longer had any doubt: they had lost their leader.
But Kerlon was not lost forever. Hardly ten seconds had passed before he reappeared, somewhat pale and frightened, but unharmed. The scientists were overjoyed and eagerly questioned him. Kerlon, however, only shook his head absentmindedly, and looked up at the sun, standing at high noon. Then he sat down on the nearest rock next to the entrance of the pyramid. He decided to break his silence.
"It is noon," he said slowly. "A few seconds ago it was darkest night, somewhere on the opposite side of this planet. That cage inside the pyramid is a matter transmitter. We have only theoretical knowledge of such an apparatus; we have never been able to build one. How is it possible that such a complicated instrument should exist here on this planet that is inhabited by primitive savages?"
No one could answer that question.
Kerlon realized that nobody on this world was even intelligent enough to comprehend the function of a matter transmitter. Let alone construct one. The Arkonides themselves must be quite inferior—at least from a technical point of view—to the builders of such matter transmitters. Therefore danger threatened their developing empire. They had finally encountered an opponent who had to be taken seriously. Unfortunately, no one knew who this opponent was and what he looked like.
This matter must be investigated! If the metal cylinder would not supply the answer perhaps then the matter transmitters might. One of them had to lead them to their builders. All matter transmitters on this planet had therefore to be tried out.
A difficult task, considering that the natives might confront them either with awe and fear or with hostility. And the Arkonides thought it beneath them to enter into battles with inferior races. Not only that, it was strictly forbidden to do so. This left not even the effective alternative of self-defense in case of an emergency.
It was just a matter of chance. Some of the natives regarded the spacefaring Arkonides as Gods while others opposed them as bitter enemies: Thus Kerlon knew he had to search for those natives who were inclined to look upon the spacemen as religious symbols.
Kerlon started out with his fleet and after a long search landed directly next to a castle built on the top of a small hill. The wide fields that stretched to the far horizon, where a mountain chain was faintly visible, showed signs of planned cultivation. At least halfway civilized intelligent beings must live here.
Kerlon's conclusion was correct but only partially. How could he guess that, hidden in the nearby woods, the barbarians were awaiting their chance to avenge their defeat. Gagat, having overcome his shock at having fought against the Gods, was also unknown to Kerlon, of course. Gagat had arrived at the conclusion that his dealings had not been with the Gods. These were no divine beings who had beaten them. The world was big and mighty warriors lived in it but they could be overcome by force rather than cleverness and ruses.
Gagat gathered up the survivors of his unsuccessful attack and lay in ambush in the woods near the castle. All he had to do was to wait for the time when the strangers would leave the castle, then he could easily wipe them out.
The barbarians were surprised no end then when early on the morning of the third day three gigantic silvery spheres appeared in the clear blue sky. These giant silver balls were much larger even than the sun, God's eye! The mysterious objects came closer and closer and finally softly touched down at quite some distance from where Gagat and his men lay hidden.
Gagat had to bring into play his utmost persuasiveness and authority to hold his warriors back from taking instantly to their heels. Who could blame the defeated soldiers if now they lost heart for good. Gods were occupying the castle and now reinforcements arrived from out of the skies. No one, not even the bravest warrior, could be expected to fight against such odds.
Gagat, however, thought differently. And the events that followed seemed to justify his point of view—at least to begin with.
When Rhodan and his friends learned about the three landed spaceships, they knew that they were definitely on the right track in their pursuit of the immortals,
Lesur himself brought them the good news. He was very excited. "My Lord, they have arrived. Just as you predicted."
Outwardly Rhodan kept calm while a storm was raging inside him. The Arkonides had come, the very same Arkonides who, ten thousand years ago, had flown into Earth's solar system to establish a base on the planet Venus.
Time had been turned back. Not until this moment had Rhodan been able to fully appreciate the significance of this event.
"Where have they landed, Lesur?"
"On the plain between the castle and the woods. Will you go out to welcome them?"
Rhodan looked questioningly at Khrest, who shook his head imperceptibly. Rhodan wondered why but did not inquire any further.
"We'll send some delegates to meet them. Wait outside near the gate."
As soon as the Ferron had left, Rhodan glanced at Khrest. The Arkonide scientist smiled gently. We don't want to rouse Kerlon's suspicions needlessly. Besides, nothing has been noted in the central files on Arkon that Kerlon's expedition discovered representatives of the human race during his stay in the Vega system. I'll go myself."
"Is that less suspicious?"
"Of course. At that time—ten thousand years ago—we had many Arkonide research ships exploring the known and unknown regions of our universe. They didn't necessarily keep in touch with each other. Therefore, Kerlon doesn't know me. I shall simply tell him that we landed here several months earlier and have thoroughly explored this planet and this solar system. Maybe I can persuade him to continue his flight, this time toward Earth."
Wouldn't that be..." Rhodan began but then his voice failed. He stared at Khrest with amazement. The Arkonide was still smiling.
> "Yes, that would be an explanation why Kerlon arrived so fast at your solar system and kept searching there for such a long time for the planet of immortality, until he died unexpectedly. His suspicions seem to have become aroused later on but by then it was too late. In any case, he never admitted that a fellow Arkonide had led him around by the nose."
"Are you trying to influence the course of the future?"
"No," Khrest replied, "I'm merely creating the proper conditions so that we'll find the right answers to our questions on Venus ten thousand years from now. What ever you want to call that...? I really wouldn't know."
Rhodan did not answer, for what could he have said in reply to that puzzling statement?
Khrest was unusually active. Once again the old drive awakened in him, the drive that had enabled his race to build up a star realm. The long ensuing periods of inactivity and degeneration were forgotten now. Khrest had changed back into one of those Arkonides who had conquered entire solar systems and incorporated them with one swoop into their galactic empire.
Perhaps this transformation might be attributed to the fact that he was transposed to the Golden Age of Arkonide history—after all, nothing was really known about the psychological effects of time travel.
"I'll take Markon along with me," said Khrest, checking the charge of his pulsator weapon. "Robots of the same type were known at that time already."
"And how about ray guns?" Rhodan inquired, hoping for once to have caught Khrest in a moment of carelessness. But the Arkonide scientist smiled indulgently and patted the butt of his weapon.
"It's the identical model we've been using for more than ten thousand years. This gun is absolutely perfect; why should we change it?" Then, turning to Marshall: "I'm leaving now, Marshall; can you keep in contact with me?"
The telepath hesitated slightly before he answered: "It will work out all right if I concentrate on you. I hope the distance between us won't be too great."
"I'm sure you'll make it, Marshall." Then Khrest looked at the robot and ordered: "Accompany me!"