by Perry Rhodan
Deringhouse was ready for the crucial operation which never failed to cause mild apprehension even in experienced spacefighters. The targeting mechanism was coupled with the rangefinder. Woe to the hostile ship that was caught in the telecom sensors! There was no room left for mistakes in the superb automatic fire control of the Arkonides. All experimental malfunctions of the construction had been completely eliminated 10,000 years ago.
"Distance constant, velocity constant," the rangefinder section reported. "No change of flight direction or velocity. Evaluation by positronicon determined that the unidentified object consists of an elongated metallic body about 1000 feet long. Tolerance value plus or minus 5%."
Deringhouse could be heard whistling through his teeth. If the unknown ship was a thousand feet long and had the shape of a cylinder, it was definitely not built on Earth.
"Nice little buggy," Rous whispered into the radio.
"I'd feel better if the Solar System were around..."
A roar drowned out Rous' words. The rangefinder section visible behind the transparent bulletproof wall was flooded with a bluish light. After a short moment the roar subsided.
Immediately the voice of an excited rangefinder officer came through: "Foreign object has transitioned. Object has disappeared from range of telecom. Structure sensor magnitude at 23, very high. Structure disturbance at zero point eight distance. Caution!"
Sergeant Rous punched the release of the safety belts. The flexible magnetic straps sprang from the backrest of all seats. Tiff felt himself irresistibly lashed to his seat.
Rous manipulated his controls with nimble fingers. As a pilot he was second to none. Moreover, he seemed to know exactly what the situation required.
Tiff heard the deep rumbling of the large electric generators. Rous saturated the hypergravoshock repulsion field to the overload mark at the very last moment.
Tifflor gripped the armrests of his chair as blue-white flashes streaked through the navigation department. The two high-grade structure sensors for the measurement of major disturbances of the space continuum conked out.
Burning debris hissed through the big room. The shrill tones pouring out of the loudspeakers lasted only a few seconds. Then they too gave up their mechanical ghosts.
Deringhouse bellowed something nobody could understand. Tiff was only able to see that he snapped the contact of his spacehelmet. He followed his example just before the fearsome shaking began.
On the encompassing observation screen of the K7 a star seemed to explode in close proximity. The glaring light effect couldn't have originated more than 300,000 miles away—less than two seconds. The ghastly eddies of pure energy in the vicinity of an emerging spaceship could only be felt but never seen. An unprotected body, regardless of its size, was hopelessly lost at most times when it was caught in the wake of a superspaceship coming too close.
This certainly was a superspaceship. Tiff observed on the videoscreen a gigantic cylindrical body with semispherical bow and stem.
Taking into account the duration of an ordinary light-ray the unknown vessel must have rematerialized two minutes earlier.
The optical magnification brought the foreign object so close that its outside was clearly recognizable.
At the stem of the ship fiery outbursts appeared. They were violet, strangely fluorescing energy bundles that clearly proved that high-powered impulse drive engines of the Arkonide type were at work over there.
All these impressions were instantaneously digested by Tifflor. Then he was seized by the terrifying oscillations of the ship's hull that reverberated like a bell and reduced him to a pitiful substance of flesh and blood. Tiff screamed bloody murder and so did all the other men on board as their heads throbbed with pains that made seconds feel like eternities.
The roaring and jolting continued. Below the command center the generators of the power stations whined furiously. If they failed to meet the energy demands of the all-important protective field, the first to perish would be the weakest links on board—its people.
"Oh no, brother, not that!" Tiff shouted in torment.
6/ Unforeseen Events
Although the structure sensors in the rangefinder sections of the heavy units didn't blow out, they were strained to the limit of their capacity.
Perry Rhodan didn't wait for the report from the RF section. He knew from sad experience gained on prior flight actions that this was more than a bad joke.
The emergence of the alien ship after its manoeuvre in space didn't otherwise affect Rhodan's fleet of battleships. Only the structure sensors had been severely strained.
The three vessels were aligned in a widely staggered formation near the orbit of Uranus. The distance between the K7 launched earlier and Rhodan's team was approximately two billion miles. This distance was really too short for a transition but too far for normal flight below the speed of light.
Rhodan, who had been loath to consider the possibility of a swift attack by the unknown foe by means of such a coordinated transition, now had to face the fact that this very thing had indeed happened.
He ignored the wild cursing of his First Officer. Reginald Bell was beside himself. The occurrence the structure sensors had so strongly registered was merely proof of what he had considered a foregone conclusion in contrast to Rhodan's opinion.
The secret opponent didn't risk pursuing the equally fast K7 in normal flight. Such a manoeuvre would've been madness especially as it had been shown before that space battles near the barrier of light were extremely difficult and almost impossible to conduct.
"What are we going to do now?" he shouted. "They jumped in close. If we do the same, it'll tear the K7 apart. She won't take another shock like that. Even one of the cruisers would create too much disturbance."
Rhodan had grasped the situation long before Bell finished his loud laments. He made contact by telecom with the two heavy cruisers Terra and Solar System, located on the same plane in red and green at a distance of three light-minutes.
"Rhodan to McClears and Nyssen. Follow in normal flight after visual evaluation. Chart your course precisely for K7. I'll go first into transition with the Stardust. Wait for my orders before you follow me in a short distance leap. Don't start simultaneously under any conditions. I'll return from hyperspace two light-minutes away from the K7. She should be able to withstand this without damage. Watch all developments in the situation carefully!"
Bell was impressed. This was the instantaneous problem-solving for which Rhodan was famous. In these lightning fast decisions, making the most of all possibilities evolving from the circumstances, lay the secret of Rhodan's success.
Indeed the K7 wouldn't be jeopardized if the superbattleship emerged from a higher plane of space into the normal universe. Two light-minutes—this was approximately tantamount to 22 million miles.
Rhodan could have easily aimed for a distance of half a light-minute. This was well within the safe tolerance of stress for the K7.
But here too Rhodan had promptly calculated and weighed the conditions. A small margin for error had to be taken into account. There was no such infallible brain in the universe nor such a perfect computer as one which could program the highly complicated transition manoeuvre to the last mile. The unavoidable tolerance variations of drive engines and fluctuations of structure fields precluded such accuracy. Rhodan was forced to make an educated guess and his best choice was two light-minutes.
He had to rule out traveling at the speed of light to reach the battleground since such a delay could have proved fatal. An attack had definitely taken place there.
The crew of the half-mile wide supergiant went feverishly to work. The preliminary rough figures were adjusted to the finest degree in accordance with the available data. This was accomplished with uncanny speed thanks to the incomparable positronic brain on board the mighty battleship.
Nevertheless, it took about six minutes before the final results could be transmitted to the automatic guidance for the transition. Now S
tardust II was ready for action.
"Commander to crew!" all loudspeakers blared. "Transition in 42 seconds. Try to pull immediately out of the transition shook. No shooting unless ordered by me. I'm taking over direct command. Technical Control to proceed at once with booster mass injection. We'll have to be faster than the other ships. Attention! Go!"
The severe, molecule-splitting jolt of the transition struck abruptly. Rhodan's last word faded into something the Arkonide hyperphysicists called 'destandardized structure form,' a concept that could only be utilized for calculations by people who excelled in Arkonide science—and the disciples of the New Power had it at their fingertips.
The mighty Stardust II vanished like a shimmering spot of light from the normal space-time continuum. The heavy cruisers were careful not to register the jump-off on its structure sensors. When a vessel with the Stardust's gigantic proportions was thrust into hyperspace, it created the upheaval of an entire space sector.
• • •
The Arkonide robots were said to have exceptionally sensitive mechanobrains. This reputation seemed to be wrong since the robots were the first to overcome the tremendous shock of the transition.
Men like Conrad Deringhouse and Sergeant Rous were still hanging half unconscious in their safety belts when the mechanical members of the crew started to operate again.
The enemy was close—much too close. A cursory check revealed that they had already approached the alien ship within about one light-second. This was still almost 200,000 miles but it was a ridiculously small distance for Rhodan's astronauts.
The distance of 200,000 miles could be leaped by an impulseray in 1.3 seconds. This could hardly be called keeping one's distance; on the contrary, it was more like an accosting attempt as it left practically no time for manoeuvres.
To make things worse, their opponent kept abreast at the same velocity. Naturally he had also emerged from hyperspace near the speed of light.
Major Deringhouse was jarred from his painfully clouded state of mind by the deep roar of fire spewing from a gun turret. When he was able to see clearly again, he observed on the control screen panel of turret Caesar that they had scored a smashing hit on the hostile target.
The K7 turned leeward from the fire by the recoiling cannon. The gyroscopes compensated for the deviation at once but they found it necessary to correct the minute shift of less than a thousandth of a degree by rotating the turrets.
Due to this tiny delay Deringhouse was unable to push the firing buttons instantly. The positronic brain had not yet given the green light.
He watched the effect of his hit with fascination. The strange ship, magnified to the size of a hand on the picture screen, reacted with great vehemence.
Its protective screen flared up in a searing glow. Its stern was burled around by the impact even though the thermobeam evidently didn't penetrate the defense shield. Nevertheless it was a telling blow as Deringhouse noted with great interest and satisfaction.
Then his eyes narrowed again. The fire control reported all clear.
The commander could have pressed all buttons with 10 fingers. Nobody had to tell such an experienced veteran as Deringhouse that nothing would've remained of the enemy ship.
Tifflor loudly expressed his bitter disappointment when the commander touched only one of the firing buttons. This time he didn't even shoot from the extra-heavy impulse beamer mounted at the lower pole.
He fired a single paltry gun from the ring of batteries in the mid-bulge. Notwithstanding its murderous noise, its sting was not enough to harm their hulking adversary.
A cannon like that was commonly used only as a polite warning signal to a stranger who was requested to identify himself.
Major Deringhouse grinned delightedly at the protesting cadet as if he were blissfully unaware that they confronted a fighting ship of enormous dimensions.
The answer came promptly and unmistakably.
A blinding burst of energy lunged so rapidly toward the K7 that it became visible only at the last moment.
The men pulled in their heads. A muffled groan spread out through the helmet speakers.
Then pandemonium followed. The inside of the protective barrier was engulfed by a scorching heatwave with solar temperature. Energy storms frazzled the structure fields and the impact of the hit strained the shock absorbers to the limit of their capacity.
Once again the spherical hull turned into a swinging, resounding gong. It took several long seconds before the vibrations died down and the fiery light grew dim on the hypergravoscreen.
"They must have good intentions," Rous groaned into the microphone. "Heaven help us if they let go with a salvo. That'll be the end of us."
"Shoot! Why don't you shoot?" somebody cried in anguish. Tiff looked back. Hifield, who always acted so arrogantly and superior, was now hanging in his safety belts, trembling and screaming hysterically.
All hell had broken loose on board the K7. Tifflor was firmly convinced that all Deringhouse had to do to destroy the enemy was to loose a full-scale barrage.
Why in the world did he fiddle around with the toy cannon in the ring battery? After all their opponent had made no secret that he meant business.
When the second shot slammed into the defense shield of the K7 Tiff became even more desperate. They were deadly serious. There could be no doubt about it after the radio officer reported that he had received no answer to his call to end the hostilities.
Deringhouse blanched a little till the effect of the bombardment had worn off. He merely nodded to Rous. That was all, but it clearly implied that the two men had an understanding between them. Otherwise the crazy idea of manipulating the fairly massive K7 like a tiny one-man pursuit-ship would never have occurred to the Sergeant. He switched over to manual steering, leaving only the thrust absorbers under automatic control. He even took the operation of the drive engines over himself and began what he called 'evasion manoeuvres.'
If Tiff had known that Perry Rhodan was waiting not too far away with a powerful battle formation, he could have understood the purpose of Rous' turbulent tactics. The Sergeant was out to gain time.
Since Deringhouse didn't shoot to kill, Tiff came to the conclusion that Deringhouse never attempted to demolish the ship in the encounter. One couldn't very well shoot people dead if one wanted to ask them questions. It was as simple as that.
Deringhouse's voice rose above the whine of the drive engines running with stupendous acceleration: "Keep your belts fastened! A few G's will be coming through the absorbers. Sit tight!"
The stars visible on the observation screens turned into rotating streaks. Rous flew a course not even the best computer could have devised. Such feats could be performed only by thinking, organic beings.
Glistening thermostreams shot past the dancing K7. If she took any hit now it would be a pure accident.
Tifflor watched Sergeant Rous' taut face. He made a mental note to remind the Sergeant occasionally that his own flight manoeuvre on the Moon was harmless compared to this.
He became absorbed in these breakneck capers to the point of being distracted from their perilous situation till he was alarmed again by a high screeching noise. The ship quavered ominously. The engines continued to roar but they were subjected to such tremendous G forces that the older men were reminded of the early days of primitive space trips.
The intensity escalated in quick spurts to three, six and eight G's. At this point the pilot's manual steering was terminated by the automatic safety control.
All drive engines were shut down by the positronic brain and the energy thus gained flowed into the thrust-absorbers. The terrible pressure decreased immediately and soon disappeared completely.
Groaning softly, Deringhouse lifted himself up in his seat. Several cadets had lost consciousness.
When Tiffs blood-filled eyes became normal again, he could only moan. The alien ship was poised close to the helpless K7.
"A pull-ray, damn it!" Deringhouse shouted. "They'v
e caught us. Rous, turn the engines on to full power. Give it all you've got to get out of this field or we'll be finished."
Sergeant Rous' desperate efforts to get the ship moving were in vain. The automatic controls failed to react. Whoever was in that other ship was using his brains. He seemed to know that the safety regulator was merely insuring the stability of the thrust neutralization field. Keeping his pull-ray just below its highest magnitude insured that the machines of the K7 were unable to start up.
Bursts of light flooded the picture screens with the brightness of the Sun as the two defense fields collided. The safety devices on the K7 blew up, proving beyond doubt that the other much larger vessel was equipped with more powerful machines.
Deringhouse withdrew his fingers at the last moment from the firing buttons. If he'd started shooting now, the Guppy would have been blown to smithereens too.
The alignment manoeuvre of the strangers was performed with admirable skill. Over there were experienced pilots at the controls. The long hull soon blanketed all observation screens on the starboard side. There was a lot of shouting going on in the captured sphere.
Deringhouse ran to the radio room. The K7 was still locked on to the powerful pull-ray of the strangers. There was no way of escaping as long as the other side maintained their control.
"Enemy is speeding up," somebody bellowed. "He's dragging us along at a fast clip. Caution!"
Tiff saw that Deringhouse hastily talked into the mike of the main telecom. The lightmarks of the directional antenna coincided precisely. A violet signal indicated that it was aligned with Terra.
Now the pressure forces were on the increase again. The acceleration must have reached more than 300 miles per second. It was simply impossible to start the machines of the K7. Rous worked like mad. The positronicon was impervious to his attempts to interfere with the emergency measures. It was programmed to prevent a catastrophe and safeguarding human life on board had the highest priority. Therefore, the last available watt was fed into the shock-absorber field and no energy was left for power consumed by the main drive engines and auxiliary aggregates.