Caller from Eternity

by Perry Rhodan

  One of the Antis whom the agent didn't know spoke up. "Do you mean the Terrans Alkher and Nolinov-the ones Rhobal brought here?"

  "Of course. They are Terrans. Solar Intelligence would believe them much sooner than they would believe Arkonides, Springers or Aras. If we plan a clever setup whereby we can let slip that the other name for Saos is actually Trakarat, then for starters we will have established the groundwork for leading Terran Intelligence in a false direction. If we also indicate that a major base is located here, without explaining what the base is for, we might be able to lure one of Rhodan's fleet formations to us. If we make the proper preparations in the meantime, it should be a simple matter for us to set off a heavy explosion just as the Terran ships are making a landing." The agent had worked himself up to a state of enthusiasm.

  The unknown Anti challenged him. "What kind of crazy plan is that? And what have the two Solar Fleet officers to do with it?"

  Realizing his error, the agent accepted the other's tone of authority and added: "We must find a way of enabling the two prisoners to escape from Saos-that is, to escape with the false information that we secretly refer to Saos as Trakarat. They must also be convinced that we have a large underground central base, located in the mountains of the northern hemisphere. At present these two Terrans are of no use to us at all but by their escape they could perform a tremendous service for Baalol. They could cause Solar Intelligence to divert and cease its search for our actual training center!"

  The production chief for the defense-screen projectors failed to see the plan. "I have to give a rebuttal to that! There is too great a danger of having our projectors fall into the hands of the Terrans..."

  The unknown Anti spokesman made an imperious gesture and the shriveled little man fell silent, obviously intimidated. The visiting authority turned again to the agent.

  "We should make a thorough examination of this plan. Perhaps it should be carried through as quickly as possible. It is no great problem to transfer the manufacturing facilities for the field-projectors and generators to another planet. The more difficult task would be to set up indications in the mountains of the northern hemisphere which might lead someone to believe that there is a major underground base there."

  The agent was pleased to see how quickly his plan had found acceptance. He hastily explained: "It would be enough to fool the Terrans if we had a spaceport there with maybe one building on the edge of the field and a road that leads off somewhere and ends at the face of a cliff. In addition to the atomic explosive charges inside the mountain we would have to have a number of actual machines hidden under the ground so that they will radiate sufficient energy pulses. We should not forget that the Sol ships are equipped with first-class energy-tracing instruments. Our visitors would become suspicious if they failed to detect such emissions in the area of the spaceport."

  The two Antis who seemed to have come directly to Saos from Trakarat looked at each other questioningly and then they nodded simultaneously. One of them issued instructions.

  "Work out every detail of your plan. Don't forget to explain how the Terran officers are to be informed that they are on Trakarat. Come back here in two hours and present the whole thing with all of the facts. We believe that Baalol will be greatly in your debt!"

  • • •

  1,000 Arkon ships had just come off the assembly lines and been put through their initial flight tests. En masse, they made a transition through hyperspace en route to the Blue System. Atlan had accepted the conditions of the Akons and was having the ships flown to Drorah, their central world, under the control of robot crews. Three of the ships were loaded with equipment required for the hypno-training process.

  • • •

  In Thomas Cardif's sleeping chamber the alarm clock went off at 11:00 a.m. It awakened Cardif from a deep and refreshing sleep. He looked over at the clock, yawned, and sat up to stretch his arms. Still half in a fog from his sleep, he wondered why he had set the alarm for this hour. Then he suddenly remembered. At 12 noon he was expecting the daily report from all Fleet task forces in the Arkon area and at 12:30 Solar Marshal Mercant was to also give him a report.

  Cardif got up and went into the bathroom. After washing up, he started to get dressed. The fresh uniform, neatly folded over a hanger, represented the custom handiwork of his positronic valet. He drew on his trousers and was about to zip them up when he stopped in surprise, finding that they were too small. He looked down at himself in amazement.

  "Well now," he heard himself say aloud, "since when have I developed a tummy?"

  He checked the trouser fastenings and finally his medical curiosity was awakened. Holding his pants together, he went over to the bed and stretched out on it. With his highly trained hands he probed and pressed his abdominal region repeatedly but without discovering anything he could properly diagnose.

  Finally he muttered an oath and spoke half aloud to himself. "But there's still something wrong..." He paused, arriving at a new thought. "Could be gas-maybe bloated a bit..." He still wasn't satisfied with the diagnosis, however. "Hm-m..." He got up again and forcefully closed his trouser fastenings. "Three cm too small for me! Yet there's nothing wrong with me-I feel fine..."

  In some irritation he went to the videophone and requested a connection with the same doctor who had first seen him during his pain seizure. The physician came on the screen wearing an expression of great concern.

  "It's nothing," Cardif assured him. "Just send me a fast-working purgative, Doctor-that's all. Preferably I'd say-get me some Gelontifad..." He instantly regretted having mentioned this preparation. It had only just completed its successful trial tests on the worlds of the Galactic Medicos. Although a few specialists in the Solar Imperium might have heard of the drug it was still not available on Terra.

  And there came the echo: "Gelontifad?" queried the doctor in some amazement. "Sir, I don't seem to recall that name. However, I'll call the pharmaceutical distribution center at once and order it for you."

  Cardif could only nod. He had committed an inexcusable error. When the video screen darkened, he pulled his shirt over his head and snuggled it down into place-then froze. The shirt was too tight at the shoulders!

  A naked fear began to take hold of Cardif. Pants too small, shirt tight at the shoulders... Yesterday these garments had fitted him perfectly. Rhodan's son turned around toward the robot valet, which stood in a corner awaiting his orders.

  "Get me another change of uniform!" he ordered. "The pants and shirt!"

  He saw the robot move toward the built-in wardrobe; then he went back into the bathroom. The robot was practically at his heels with the requested clothing. Cardif jerked the articles out of the metal creature's hand and hurried to try on the second pair of trousers.

  With the same result!

  "Ye gods!" he exclaimed softly, still talking to himself. "I've been putting on a spare tire and didn't notice it until this morning! That's the way it is when a man doesn't have time anymore to take care of himself!" He chuckled to himself. That was the whole solution. He could forget about the purgative. All he had to do was make sure of having enough physical activity.

  The robot was still standing there. "Is there a tape measure around here?" he asked of the machine.

  "Yes sir," it answered, turning at once to fetch it. Cardif had no sooner approached the mirror in his bedroom than the robot was back again with the tape. "Here you are, sir."

  Cardif measured his waist. The tape showed him the result: slightly over 39 inches. Handing it back to the robot he went to the videophone and made a connection. "Hello, emergency clinic? I'll be available in my office in five minutes."

  • • •

  Meanwhile the doctor's inquiry concerning Gelontifad had created quite a stir in the great clinic of Terrania. Perry Rhodan wanted some Gelontifad immediately but no such item was available. The doctor was adamant. The Chief had asked for Gelontifad. It was some kind of laxative-it had to be found.

  The positronicon
was questioned. Answer: negative. The emergency doctor expected at any moment to receive a sharp inquiry from Rhodan, asking him where his medicine was. He shouted in desperation: "There must be some somewhere! The Chief knows it exists. Just find it and bring it to me!" It was enough to raise a storm of confusion in the normally sedate atmosphere of the clinic.

  Even Solar Intelligence had gotten wind of this disturbance but the major who received the information made a slight error. He should have transmitted the data immediately to Allan D. Mercant but he had been celebrating the previous night and happened to be suffering the consequences. He read the message concerning the seemingly minor skirmish over a purgative and then dismissed it, sweeping it from his desk-at the same time taking an oath to absorb less festive 'cheer' in the future, however pleasant the experience.

  The frantic physicians at the clinic chanced upon a colleague who wasn't aware of the official nature of the emergency but who had something to say that was informative. He stared at his amazingly confused comrades in some perplexity.

  "Gelontifad?" he echoed, mystified. "Of course I'm familiar with it. But nobody could know about it here. The Aras have just brought it out as a new preparation. I ought to know, since I've just come back from Aralon!!"

  Not one of the doctors caught on to the obvious discrepancy involved. They were all too relieved to finally be informed about the medicine.

  "But it is a purgative?" asked one of them, wanting to be sure.

  The doctor who had just returned from Aralon three weeks ago shook his head in confirmation.

  Thus, by a hair's breadth, Thomas Cardif had escaped discovery.

  4/ IT ALL BEGAN ON OKUL

  Brazo Alkher, looking even now like a lanky youngster as ever, looked up apathetically when the two combat robots brought Stant Nolinov back into their cell.

  Nolinov was returning from his 18th or 20th cross-examination. He himself had about as many hearings behind him. After a few days of quiet the Antis had started early this morning with their questionings again. But this time the two young officers were in the dark as to what the Antis were after.

  Nolinov sat down silently beside Alkher and waited for the robots to leave. The door closed and they could both be sure that the energy screen was still there which barred any chance of escape.

  "Watch it, Brazo-it's your turn again in 10 minutes!" This was all Stant had to say about the interrogation he had just come through

  Here it was impossible to carry on any productive conversation. They knew that every word could be overheard and three closed-circuit video-cams watched them continuously. During the first few hours of their imprisonment they had discovered this surveillance system and conducted themselves accordingly.

  Brazo Alkher, formerly the weapons officer of the linear-drive ship Ironduke, got up and started his pacing again, five steps to the door, five steps to the wall. The door was of seamless metal and escape-proof; also the walls. Moreover, they figured they were about 40 or 50 meters beneath the surface of the inhospitable planet of Saos.

  "Are they starting to get to you, old buddy?" Nolinov asked him in light sarcasm.

  "They keep you too uptight around here to fall apart!" Alkher told him curtly.

  This much they dared say to each other and no more. Alkher kept up his incessant pacing because he was pondering something. He had noticed that on his last three trips today to the hearing chamber they had taken him there each time by a different route. He was wondering if this had been intentional on the part of his captors and, if so, what purpose was behind it.

  The floor reverberated, announcing the heavy footsteps of the approaching robots. The massive door swung back silently. A hard, metallic voice commanded Brazo Alkher to accompany them. He nodded quickly to his companion and went out. Two robots escorted him between them. A third machine formed the rear guard and a fourth led the way.

  He attempted to pay much more attention than before to the route they were taking but after 10 minutes had lost his orientation completely. He wasn't sure whether or not they were leading him in circles. The way to the hearing chamber seemed to be endless.

  He remembered the impression he had obtained on his arrival of this settlement of the Antis. The Baa-lo's engines had been severely damaged by his beam-cannon shots so the ship had taken about five times as long as would normally be required to make a landing. He and Nolinov were not prevented from looking at the viewscreens during the approach and they had observed the building installations and the surrounding terrain from above.

  They had seen a circular complex of various kinds of buildings which had been located in a deep canyon-like basin surrounded by high, rugged-looking mountains. The basin, measuring about two km in diameter, was dominated by a pyramid structure that was considerably more than 100 meters high. The temple stood in the center of an approximately circular area if one discounted four large dome-roofed buildings equally spaced around it, forming a square. While they had been conducted toward the temple, still in their spacesuits, they had been able to catch a glimpse of the interior of one of the domes. The large machines and power plants there were; a clear indication of a heavy energy setup to support a large industrial complex.

  Suddenly his recollections were interrupted as he found himself facing the familiar antigrav shaft which would take him up into the pyramid. He had long since given up trying to figure out what subterranean sector he had come through Accompanied by the robots, he soon arrived again in the hearing room. This time he was surprised, however, to discover two strange faces among his interrogators.

  One of the strange Antis introduced Alkher to the other one. "Terran," he said, "you will be cross-examined by High Priest Kutlos."

  Alkher remained expressionless.

  The session began. The Antis asked him one catch-question after another. But the young lieutenant had learned his lessons well in the Space Academy of the Solar Fleet; he was well trained in the art of avoiding their verbal snares.

  Suddenly the questioning was interrupted. A small, shriveled-looking old Anti came out of an adjacent room and approached Kutlos. He bowed to him and asked him to accompany him into the nearby room. Alkher kept his ears open as best he could but only caught an indication that an important call had come through for the Center. With every sign of impatience, Kutlos got up and ordered the other Anti, who had introduced him, to continue interrogating the Terran.

  But in Alkher's opinion the latter found this to be an unexpected task. He seemed to be struggling to come up with questions. In the midst of it Alkher heard the name Trakarat. He did not realize that it had been intended for him to hear it.

  Nor did he know that the shouted reply of Kutlos in the next room was designed for him: "Even the Springers can't threaten us! Tell them this is Central Control-we know how to defend ourselves!"

  A half-hour later, when he was taken back to his underground prison, he paid no attention to the way he came. He couldn't get two items out of his mind: the names Trakarat and Central Control. Somehow he had to transmit this discovery to Nolinov. He had a strong hunch that the data was important.. He was struggling to figure out how this inhospitable planet could have two names: Saos, according to the Arkonide star catalogs, but also Trakarat!

  The Central idea had made the deepest impression on him.

  Was this layout one of those 'iceberg' situations? The two-km circular settlement he had seen when landing could be the small visible portion of it. Beneath the planet's surface might be the whole hidden Headquarters of the Baalol cult!

  • • •

  Kutlos' sharp-lined features twisted into a smile. It was meant for the man who had met with Cardif-Rhodan at dawn on the terrace of the bungalow near Terrania.

  "What do you think?" he asked of the agent. There was a note of expectancy in his voice.

  "I believe the simplified plan is more effective. That Terran lieutenant seems to be a mere youngster-I watched him closely when Trakarat was mentioned. He pricked up his ears, there can be no
doubt about it-swallowed the bait completely. Now if we don't lay it on too thick we should be able to lay a false trail which might even bring Cardif to us. At the same time it will give us a chance to put the Terrans in a still worse light with Imperator Gonozal VIII!"

  The smile broadened on Kutlos' face. He rubbed his hands together. With lofty solemnity he spread out his arms. "For Baalol the Day of the Prophecy is dawning!" Wherewith he momentarily bowed his head and muttered some unintelligible words. Then he turned and left the room.

  The simplified plan omitted the part about setting up a false Central in the northern hemisphere of Saos. It was now all in the hands of the man who had assured Thomas Cardif that the Antis would not stand in the way of his move against Arkon. It was even being considered that the promise would be kept. Moreover, the Antis were making ready to increase the tensions between Terra and Arkon.

  They believed they knew how far they could go and they were sure of success because the only man who could really be dangerous to them was in their power: the genuine Perry Rhodan!

  • • •

  When Bell stormed into the private chambers of Allan D. Mercant he saw that the Solar Marshal had a visitor: Col. Nike Quinto.

  He greeted the stocky little chief of Secret Division 3 with obvious relief. "I'm glad you're here, Quinto," he said. "I've just come from seeing the Chief. No chance to get a word in with him. After the first five minutes I wasn't interested any more in talking to him. Gentlemen..." He paused. So far he had been standing up but now he took a seat. "Gents, I fear the worst for the Chief. I was with him for 30 minutes. During that period do you know what I saw him doing-at least eight times? He had a tape measure and he was measuring his waist!"

  He stared tensely at Mercant and Quinto but to his surprise the Intelligence Chief dismissed it with a wave of the hand.