by Perry Rhodan
Rhodan began to whistle softly. Perhaps he had the right idea!
Life went on as usual on the service base of the New Power. Only a few people knew that a new danger loomed out there in cosmic space. Even fewer were aware of the decisive steps Rhodan had taken when he responded to the ordinary telegram of a New York attorney.
In the annals of mankind the telegraphic request for a furlough of Cadet Julian Tifflor was classified as a 'document of utmost importance.'
3/ The Astounding Operation
The wedding ceremony was a protracted torture for Julian Tifflor. As soon as the rites ended he virtually fled for it was contrary to his conscience and ingrained habits to take lethal weapons into church. He found the atomic impulsebeamer and his special belt untouched behind the thick hedge of roses. He breathed easier again and strapped his weapon on according to the service rules. He touched his pocket with the concealed metal container and got back in time for the reception.
James Frederick Tifflor, a distinguished-looking man in his 50s, threw an abhorrent look at his son. Tiffs sister, who had just now become a bride, uttered a shrill frightened cry and the eyes of several old ladies suddenly looked glazed.
There was no denying that an Arkonide thermobeamer not only had a devastating effect but also looked extremely menacing, particularly because the gun was carried in an open bolster.
"Is this really necessary?" his father asked icily. Julian experienced for the first time how difficult it could be to reconcile good manners with military orders.
"Regulations, dad," he answered with a throaty voice and stiff attitude.
He suffered even worse embarrassment on the way back, as he had to ride in a car with an elderly aunt.
Some unflattering remarks were bandied around on this occasion about the famed and notorious Perry Rhodan.
They drove to Tifflor's spacious country home on Long Island. A man like Tifflor could well afford such luxury.
Four hours after the wedding, shortly before dusk, Tiff still sat in his room. Nobody was able to induce him to put down his dangerous gun.
"I'd prefer if you'd come some day to work in my office," his father said tersely. "I don't think much of this so called reaching for the stars. May I inquire why you're putting on this act?"
Julian was in no position to give his father any explanations. By the time the sun went down he felt like an outcast. He had disposed with a few harsh words of the silly questions of his former friends and evaded the lively curiosity of the young girls. Tiff was not one of those Space Academy cadets who enjoyed circulating and bragging with their superior knowledge. So it turned out to be a social disaster.
Julian was exasperated and stepped out onto the tiny balcony of his room. The first stars appeared in the evening sky. They seemed to, call and enthrall him with their mysterious and breathtaking splendor.
Thus he remained till about 23 o'clock. Then the moment he had waited for arrived, but not as he had imagined it.
The mental attack struck a sudden blow. An unseen force reached for his conscious mind.
Tiff reeled back and groaned. He was familiar with the effect. Instantaneously he reacted like the Space Academy cadet who had been specially trained for such occurrences.
He made an effort to defend himself and to block the extraneous thought impulses. It took awhile till he realized that the purpose of the encroachment was the transmission of a message.
Tiff forgot where he was. Suddenly everything had changed completely. His familiar surroundings etherealized. Now the vexing phenomenon began to gain the upperhand. He listened acutely.
"Very good, now it's getting easier for me," the message came through. "Your code word is Heavenly Gate. Take an air taxi at once and go to the General Cosmic Company building. Be careful, you're being watched by some unknown persons. I'll be sticking around. Don't say goodbye just write a note and leave through the garden. Keep your eyes open."
The mental pressure subsided. His mind was free again. Breathing easier, he scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper.
He walked across the extensive grounds of the garden. There wasn't a corner in the garden he hadn't visited many times. Near the wrought-iron side door he received the next message.
"Marshall speaking. I'm hovering in a gravo-glider above the property. Go out in the street and call an air taxi."
"Danger?" Tiffs thought expressed concern.
The answer came hesitantly. "I'm not sure. I'm getting confused impressions. There are too many people in the house. Try it!"
Tiff cocked his gun. The little red light started to glow on the hand guard. The door was only seldom used. As he was about to pull the bolt out of the latch, he received a strong warning impulse from the invisible telepath. Tifflor wheeled around.
Behind the old oaks in the garden appeared the shadowy outlines of two figures. The faces were unrecognizable but he noticed the running legs.
He heard himself shout. Contrary to his explicit orders he couldn't get himself to open fire without first giving a warning.
"Shoot!" the command reverberated in his mind. Marshall seemed to be gripped by panic.
Tifflor jumped with his drawn gun behind the solid stone pillar of the gate. As he hit the ground painfully on his right knee, he heard a high whistle followed by a thump.
In a fraction of a second he recognized the vapors rising from the cracked plastic container. The bluish fluorescent light illuminated the darkness under the old trees of the garden. A deep voice shouted something.
At this point he distinguished two masked faces in the eerie light. Tiffs next breath brought him close to fainting.
As everything began to wobble before his eyes, he pulled the trigger with his last ounce of strength.
A white-hot stream of fire roared from the barrel of his weapon. Fanning his gun he caught the two figures in the blast and in the process set the wooded area on fire.
It was a burst of only short duration. Tiff still heard the deep roar of the impulseweapon and the crashing of a huge tree which seemed to blaze up as it toppled over.
He was too groggy to escape before his next breath of the fluorescing cloud of gas. Moaning, he fell back. A million steel crystals seemed to sear his throat. He no longer saw the gravo-glider coming down from the red-lit sky of the night.
The dry wood was burning along the line of his fire. It was a small inferno created by a young man with a flick of his finger.
• • •
The room was neither very large nor very high. However it displayed such uncommon furnishings that only a man like Homer G. Adams could have been comfortable with them.
A large picture screen on the wall showed the clear-cut—although a little weary—face of a man in uniform. It was Perry Rhodan, Chief of the New Power.
"What did you find out?" the low voices came from the concealed loudspeaker.
Homer G. Adams, the stout president of GCC with a reputation as the greatest financial genius of the century, stroked his large head with his remarkably fine hand. Blinking his eyes—lately he'd become a little nearsighted—he studied the image of the man who had provided, him with the opportunity of establishing a gigantic consortium on an interstellar scale.
The General Cosmic Company already extended to the stars. The first trade monopoly with the humanoid Ferrons earned profits which almost equaled the entire tax yield of all the big states on planet Earth combined. There was no doubt that Homer G. Adams controlled the greatest economic power of all times.
"This is a question I can't answer so easily, sir," Adams replied cautiously. "If you allow me, I'd like to pay you a short visit. I can use my matter transmitter."
Adams looked at the peculiar apparatus in the secret room. Many times before he'd entered unseen and unnoticed the governmental palace of the New Power.
"I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of preparations for leaving," his plea was denied. "How did the assailants react? Who are they?"
"The men shot by Tifflor could no
longer be identified, unfortunately. However we managed to save a tiny trace of the strange gas. The analysis should provide some clues. John Marshall carried Tifflor out of the vapors at the last moment and almost passed out himself doing so. It's diabolical stuff."
"Is it of Terrestrial origin?"
Adams raised his shoulders. "We aren't sure yet, sir. It's all very mysterious. I've contacted our Secret Service. The newspapers haven't been informed about the true facts of the case since Mercant's agents succeeded in apprehending other suspects. They turned out to be well-known New York gangsters who stated that they had a contract from an anonymous party to lay Julian Tifflor low with a gas grenade. We've been unable to learn more. It is certain that these arrested hoodlums are not the real suspects we seek. Our hypnotic interrogation produced no clues. Nobody knows who put out the contract for murder."
"How's Tifflor?"
"Satisfactory. Because of his unconscious state, we were relieved of our worry how to put him under narcosis land avoid attention. Professor Karner has postponed the operation for five hours in order to wait for the probable side effects of the gas inhaled by Tifflor. However he exhibited no organic or psychic disturbances. We've anaesthetized him before he woke up. The operation is now under way."
Perry Rhodan's face looked serious. Now they'd reached a crucial stage.
"Adams, I fully depend on you. If the microdevice functions in accordance with the assurance I've been given, Tifflor will become a signal transmitter of unprecedented potency. Telepaths like Marshall will be able to utilize it as a foolproof method of locating him anywhere up to a distance of two light-years without any delay at all, as if they were standing next to him. Please conduct these experiments after the conclusion of the operation."
Homer G. Adams was breathing loudly. His high-domed forehead was covered with beads of sweat. "Sir, that gadget is a diabolical contraption. Although I'm certainly no telepath I found it difficult to stay in its proximity. It's sending out supradimensional frequencies of the highest intensity. Where did you get it from?"
Rhodan saw the face of his conversation partner growing larger. Adams was moving closer to the videophone.
"Please keep quiet about these confidential matters. A few days ago I returned from Wanderer, the world of eternal life. The incredibly intelligent beings living there are no gods but they know the last secrets of nature. It's the source where I obtained this device. They've created it in the shortest time according to my specifications as if it were a simple toy. The microcell activator will change the frequency of each single cell in Tifflor. The cadet will virtually be converted into a galactic transmitter. Now I hope that he'll be captured by the unknown infiltrators. The ambush indicates that they already suspect him to be the secret courier. Please continue to keep up this pretense, Adams! Especially with regard to Tifflor. His memory must not contain anything that could lead to an involuntary betrayal in hypnotic interrogations he might be subjected to. He is and must remain unburdened with vulnerable information. Is that clear?"
Adams nodded silently. His face looked fatigued.
"Please, connect me with the surgery room," Rhodan requested firmly.
Adams' fingers pushed a few buttons. The GCC clinic which was also housed in the same huge office building appeared on another videoscreen.
Professor Karner, the gifted surgeon, was in charge of the operation. Dr. Haggard and Dr. Eric Manoli assisted him. Other physicians who had undergone the Arkonide hypno-training in medicine were also present.
The applied method of surgery would have baffled any other doctor. Even the anaesthetic apparatus was a marvel of micropositronic refinement.
Tifflor's pelvic cavity had already been opened. The Arkonide antibody serum assured the completely safe assimilation of foreign substances. As Adams switched on the picture, Professor Karner was about to implant a thimble-sized object surrounded by a multitude of sensory filaments.
The heavy breathing of the Arkon-trained surgeon was audible in the loudspeaker as the half organic and half mechanical device began to join its sensors with the nerve tissue close to the lower spinal column. The connection with the circulatory system of the patient's blood was also accomplished without the aid of the physicians. The entire process took less than five minutes. From there on the imbedded artifice was an integral part of Tiff's body.
"Done," somebody said haltingly. "Do we begin?"
Homer G. Adams switched the picture off. He looked pale as he turned back to the other screen. "An uncanny object, sir," he whispered. "It dizzies the mind. It seems to have a brain of its own."
Rhodan laughed half-heartedly. His expression seemed reserved. "Don't ask me. Apparently everything is possible on Wanderer. How long will it take for the wound to heal?"
"A maximum of 12 hours. At least that's what Haggard claims. The Arkonide tissue plasma will leave no visible scars and the job might even be finished sooner."
"O.K. It's better if you wait 12 hours. When he wakes up, tell him that the mysterious gas was the cause of his prolonged coma. Adams, don't lose your head! Lieutenant Everson has departed some time ago. He is now in the vicinity of the Pluto orbit and is preparing his transition to the Vega system. So far he has neither been detected nor attacked. It looks to me like they've taken Tifflor's bait. Send him on his way to the Lunar base as soon as he's fit again. Major Deringhouse is waiting for him there with the K-7. Is everything clear now?"
Adams confirmed the question. With somewhat mysterious remarks the conversation was concluded.
Cadet Julian Tifflor, Space Academy student in his last semester, which was equal to 20 regular semesters due to the utilization of hypnotic training, thus began to play an extremely important role in the history of mankind.
He was as yet unaware of it. Nobody knew exactly what Rhodan's intentions were with regard to Tifflor's mission. All Adams could learn was that the Chief had done only enough to arouse the merest suspicion about Tifflor's activities. Anything more than this slight hint would doubtlessly have brought about a quick failure.
Adams, ingenious and decisive in all financial matters, felt badly shaken. He thought about the message the cadet was supposed to deliver in space. The positronic superbrain on the Venus base had required three weeks of Terrestrial time to compute the convincing data contained on the microtape. Considering the calculating capacity of the machine, three weeks was an enormous length of time.
Rhodan's face had disappeared. It became very quiet in the unique room where no other man except Rhodan was allowed to enter. The small control center in the administrative offices of the GCC actually was one of a string of minor support bases.
Adams got up from his swivel chair. He took another look at the surgery room. The operation was not quite finished. Karner and Haggard were busy treating the wound with the Arkonide bioplasma that prevented the formation of scars. The healing process took place with incredible speed. It virtually started the moment the plasma was sprayed on.
Adams was startled when he heard moaning coming from the loudspeaker. He quickly zoomed to the wide angle field. John Marshall, the telepath who had quietly observed the implant, was hastily carried out of the operating room by two physicians. He was uttering the pained noises. His face was contorted under the surgical mouth cover.
By this token Adams knew that the cell activator had commenced to function. Julian Tifflor had turned into a transmitter. However, the impulses emanating from his body could only be perceived by skilled telepaths and exclusively by those who were attuned to Tifflor's frequency.
It was all part of a grandiose multifaceted plan by Perry Rhodan to venture into the world of the stars. He had become an invisible power in the background to be reckoned with.
Adams stepped into the five-dimensional identification field of the secret room. Recognized as having authority for admittance, the concrete wall in the basement of the highrise became materially unstable and opened in front of him.
He stepped through the dematerialized
field out into the open. Behind him the wall changed its form into solid matter again. As Adams went up to the 108th floor in the rapid elevator the still unconscious cadet Julian Tifflor was wheeled out of the operating room. The most astounding operation in human history had been achieved.
4/ Destination: Transplutonia
The office looked quite ordinary and innocuous. Except for the numerous employees servicing the highly technical communications equipment, the room could have been in any other office building.
This impression changed radically as Julian Tifflor was escorted to the normal-looking sliding door.
It opened very silently but the sound of sliding Arkonide steel was not eliminated. There were two robots stationed to the left and right of the entrance. The movable weapon arms of the machines looked less innocuous.
Tiff entered calmly. He was used to such security measures. Homer G. Adams was seated in an imposing chair behind an immense work table which didn't deserve to be called a desk.
It was the first time that Tifflor met the man who was known as the Minister of Economy of the New Power. The odd thing about him was that this high official performed his functions in New York.
"Please sit down," asked the friendly voice.
Adams smiled. Tiff knew that the man with the twisted spine before him was a so called semi-mutant. This was about the extent of his information. He was unaware of Adams' photographic memory and his capability of predetermining economic trends.
"I'm sorry to have you exposed to such hazards," Adams began, maintaining his reserve. "Of course I could have let Marshall call you back as soon as you had attended to your social obligations. However, I considered it preferable to remain in your parents' home until the suspected attackers showed up. You may regard it as a certain test I've conducted."
Tifflor gulped audibly. The opening remarks were rather surprising. "Of course, sir," he replied lamely.
"At any rate you've survived the incident quite well according to the opinions of the physicians. How do you feel?"