by Perry Rhodan
"Thank you," he said as he got up from the chair again.
He smiled triumphantly. From now on Rhodan's precious mutants would not be able to trace him. A frequency distortion of merely one cps would be enough to conceal his thought-impulses in the endless sea of billions of others.
"Rhodan!" He laughed when be spoke the name, and he thought of the biological rejuvenation liqueur-his Liquitiv!
But his triumph was short-lived.
The Solar Fleet had not yet taken over all transmitter stations on Lepso. News came through from one of them that the Mounder squadrons that had broken through the blockade had been put to flight by Rhodan's super battleships. A second announcement stated that a spherical spacer of the Solar Fleet had just taken off on a course for the Baalol temple! The Lepsonian's excited voice had no sooner gone off the air than the temple's own speaker system came to life with a sudden announcement. The Antis who had escaped from the Springer clan's commercial house had just arrived in four high-speed gliders and had landed in front of the temple.
The head priest was about to order an evacuation and flight.
"Wait!" ordered Cardif sharply. The dreaming smile of many years was gone forever now. "We have time! Don't you know Rhodan yet? Have you made such a poor study of his methods? The big hero's weakness is that he goes by the rules! Before he'll give an order to open fire on the temple he'll give us an ultimatum. Even if it's only 30 minutes, that gives us enough time to destroy anything here that could be important to him, and also to think of our escape.
They stared at him as if mesmerized, still not able to believe that the smiling dreamer, Edmond Hugher, had become the master strategist Thomas Cardif-a genius equal to his father, Perry Rhodan.
5/ TRAIL'S END-AN OLD BEGINNING
The Ironduke hovered about 30 feet over the plaza in front of the government palace, as if to find its bearings. Then with a swelling thunder from its impulse engines the 800-meter battlesphere soared upward, diminishing skyward to an altitude of 10,000 feet or more, after which it veered away in a north-north-westerly direction, having set its course for the Baalol temple in the desert wastelands.
The third and last attempt to locate Thomas Cardif's mental emanations with the Swoon tracer failed completely. But even Rhodan did not suspect that the consequences were going to cause him a greater loss than he anticipated.
He had just returned to the Control Central and taken a seat next to Bell when the hypercom message came through reporting that the 600 Mounder ships had been put to flight. After that an unexpected announcement came from the main blockade front out on the edge of the Fering System-this time much more reassuring. The reinforcements from Arkon had arrived ahead of time: 3,210 heavy cruisers completely manned by robots. Now the blockade forces would be able to repulse any attackers.
Rhodan noted Bell's worried look. "Not a thing," he said, anticipating his question. "We made only one brief contact with Cardif. The Antis must have sensed the probe immediately. They seem to have used their counter-forces to screen off his mental impulses."
"Nothing more?"
"Well-Fellmer Lloyd is willing to swear by what he claims to have detected: Cardif is still under the original mental block."
Holding itself to a comparative crawling pace, the Ironduke kept its course at just under the speed of sound. At this low altitude the massive ship could not push itself faster through the heavier air mass without causing severe disturbances on the surface of Lepso. Colonel Claudrin understood the Chiefs policy in this regard and was careful not to break the sound barrier before reaching the rocky desert.
Once more they flew over a vast spaceport area which was also occupied by star ships of every make and description. This seemed to confirm the earlier reports that a tremendous number of spacecraft were on Lepso at present. They probably totaled some 4,500 to 5,500 vessels on the entire planet, which was a clear indication of Lepso's importance as a galactic distribution point It was also at least a partial explanation of why a great percentage of the inhabitants of the whole Milky Way were showing such a strong reaction to Rhodan's operation here. But positronic evaluations were not the only evidence that this general uproar had been carefully planned. Now there was the fact concerning the hurried flight of 80 Antis from a galactic counting house of one of the Springer clans.
Bell was still looking at his friend in wondering amazement. How could Thomas Cardif have been under the Arkonide hypno-block continuously for the past six decades or so? His old personality had been altered to keep him from being the most dangerous troublemaker in the galaxy-and yet...?"
Bell tried to hold his voice steady. "Perry, if what you say is true, then I can't understand how he got away from Zalit or why he even tried to leave. On the other hand, if he's still under the hypno-block can he still be held entirely responsible for the discovery of the doped liqueur?"
Rhodan remained silent. He gave no outward sign of the fact that a new apprehension had seized him. He was thinking of what might happen if the Antis discovered that Cardif was under a mental block-especially if they were to free him from it! After six decades of deceptive peace, wouldn't things then be worse than before?
Bell still persisted. "Perry? You're not giving me any answers." He glanced involuntarily at the great panob screens and noticed that they were flying over a smaller city, beyond which a long inland sea extended into the distance.
The city was known as Tu-ki and the Lepsonians referred to the landlocked sea as Frugid. Tu-ki was the last settlement between here and the Baalol temple, but before that came the Glogu Mountains and the first stretch of the rocky desert.
"Bell, what answers can I give you? Instead of that, let me ask you something. Assuming that the Antis discover Thomas' hypno-block and remove it-what will my son think of me when he suddenly returns to himself after 58 years? Won't he find all the more reason to suspect me of treachery and be all the more convinced that I sent Thora to her death?"
Even before he finished speaking to Bell, the latter had jumped up and gone over to Col. Claudrin. "Colonel, why don't you step on the gas?" he asked gruffly. "Do we have to crawl like snails?"
The Epsalian calmly pointed to the viewscreens, on which the Frugid Sea was visible as well as several surface vessels. Claudrin's mighty voice replied with a counter-question: "Do you want me to capsize those boats down there, Mr. Bell?"
The Ship's Com came through with an announcement from Col. Myler, chief of the 3rd echelon task force. In spite of all efforts to hold the inner blockade, three Springer ships had succeeded in taking off from Lepso. "One of them blew up under our beam fire," he reported. "The other two have surrendered. We've sent them over several robot units to keep them under arrest and pilot them in between our ships to a landing. Their cargoes are made up of nothing but Liquitiv. Over and out..."
Meanwhile Bell had seated himself next to Rhodan again. Perry was still sitting unmoved in his flight seat, apparently gazing away into a distance.
"Don't say anything more, Bell!"
That was all there was to it-a flat-out command. Reginald Bell could say nothing. Several thousand questions whirled in his mind and every single one of them had to do with Thomas Cardif. But the main question was: after 58 years, what would Thomas think of his father if he were to awaken from his hypnosis?
Neither of the two men suspected that just a few minutes before this, Thomas Cardif had already answered the question.
• • •
The Ironduke's radio officer was shouting so loudly through the intercom system that the speaker in the Control Central was hardly necessary as an amplifier. "Sir-radio traffic from Antis intercepted and decoded! It's a hypercom message to an unknown receiving point. All Terran colonial worlds to be saturated with Liquitiv! The liqueur is to be distributed free to all comers!"
Even while this was coming through, Rhodan had stretched out a hand gropingly to Bell, seeming to grasp him imploringly. No one else had caught his reflex action. No one heard him whisper to hi
s friend: "That is Cardif's first strategic chess move! Bell, he's back again-I can feel it!"
Bell was just about to agree with him but just then the air shimmered nearby and the mouse-beaver suddenly appeared. There was no sign of his smiling incisor now. His reddish pelt had a dull flat appearance which was always a sign of inner agitation.
The officers in the Control Central were still digesting the frightening news that the colonial worlds of Terra were to be flooded with Liquitiv. Pucky was able to chirp his fervent plea to Rhodan without being observed. "Let me jump for it! I'll find him among a thousand Antis and haul him on board!"
Obviously he referred to Thomas Cardif. Again without permission the mouse-beaver had tuned in to the thoughts of Rhodan and Bell, as his words clearly implied. This also explained why he had chosen this particular moment to teleport into the main control room.
Rhodan placed his hand on Pucky's head. The mightiest man in the Solar Imperium smiled sadly at the little one as he shook his head almost imperceptibly. The desperate gleam faded from Pucky's big grey eyes. The rascal had read Rhodan's thoughts again and had seen that his suggestion wasn't feasible. He had not taken the Antis paranormal strength into consideration. Their mental faculties enabled them to fortify any synthetically-generated defense screen to the point where even the most powerful energy beams could not get through. Unquestionably his teleport jump would go no farther than the Anti-screen and he would be hurled back to his starting point.
"Damn those Antis!" exclaimed Bell angrily. And he continued with more spectacular curses, half under his breath.
Rhodan took no note of the outburst and even Pucky remained silent, though he had always been the first to be amused by Bell's cussword artillery.
On the panob screens Perry could see that the inland body of water had almost been traversed. The farther shore appeared, on which were a number of magnificent buildings, but that also moved onward to the middle of the screen and at the upper edge could be seen the first elevations of the Glogu Mountains. Colonel Claudrin leaned forward in his custom-made flight seat and lightly touched the buttons on the impulse engine panel. There was a rising howl from the ring-bulge as the Ironduke finally moved forward at a greater speed.
Rhodan got up and went over to Claudrin, where the ship's intercom was located. He put in a call to Allan D. Mercant, the chief of Solar Intelligence. "Mercant, don't we still have a number of agents on Lepso? I remember sending your men an order from Earth, telling them to concentrate all of their efforts on finding Dr. Edmond Hugher. Why have I not heard from them, Solar Marshall?"
Whenever Rhodan used this tone it reminded one of lightnings that bring warning of a storm. In spite of the obvious rebuke, however, Mercant's face on the screen revealed no sign of insecurity.
"Negative report, sir. I deliberately refrained from passing my agents' reports on to you. They were all quite frank in confessing that their investigations concerning Hugher, alias Cardif, had run into a detour because of falsified information at central data centers. If Thomas Cardif is actually in the Baalol temple, it proves that the opposition managed to deceive my men 100%."
After a slight pause, Rhodan answered with unmistakable sharpness. "Solar Marshall, the next time I'd also like to be informed concerning unsuccessful operations of Solar Intelligence. That is all."
Rhodan looked up again at the panob gallery of viewscreens. In the interim Claudrin must have raised the Ironduke's speed close to 2000 km per hour. The mountain chain had disappeared. Beneath the ship lay the bleak Great Desert of Lepso, an ocean of sand and rocks, here and there relieved only by flat-topped ridges and mesas.
A frantic call was heard from energy tracking: "Sir!"
"Yes?" Rhodan turned toward the station, which was located in the vast room that constituted the ship's 'Bridge'.
"Sir, I might be wrong but what I'm getting tells me there's a spaceship warming up-somewhere near the Baalol temple!"
It was a challenge to Bell. He had to see the energy graphs for himself. His prime forte had been electronics and in the course of many decades of experience with positronic detection he had developed a fingertip feeling for it which had made him an incomparable specialist in such evaluations.
"Give me some room, please," he told the duty officer. Both his hands went to the trace controls and he watched the scope diagrams in close concentration for a moment. Then he turned to Rhodan significantly. "Perry, that's what it reads! The Antis have a ship at the temple and it's ready for take-off now. Colonel, can't you give us a little more speed?" He relinquished his seat to the officer and went back to Rhodan. "Those Antis are about to show us their staff, Perry. You still going to give them an ultimatum?"
"That's right, but we'll try to avoid what you're thinking." Rhodan turned once more to the intercom. "Com Central-coded dispatch to all super battleships! Deploy in guard position at 100,000 km. Effective immediately, sole observation target is the Baalol temple. A spaceship take-off is probable. Presumably Antis will be on board. Estimated number between 100 and 120. If any ship in temple vicinity actually tries to take off, you are to prevent its escape by any and all means at your disposal! Rhodan, First Administrator, Solar Imperium."
He turned slowly to Bell who stared at him dumbfoundedly. "Bell, don't say it! You don't have to remind me that Thomas Cardif might be on board that ship. Please don't make it any harder for me!"
The crew in the Control Central had overheard him. None of the officers on duty was old enough to have known Thomas Cardif as their Chief's bitterest foe but they all knew what Cardif had attempted in his efforts to destroy Rhodan. There was not a man among them who was sorry for him now.
But there was a mouse-beaver named Pucky.
He waddled up to Rhodan and touched his left wrist with his paw. "Alright!" he chirped. "Now for the first time I'm glad that these Antis can supercharge their screens enough to hold off the heaviest disintegrator beam. You want to bet Thomas gets away with the Antis, Chief?"
Com Central called through to announce that Rhodan's order had been beamed out to the super battleships. Immediately a second report was heard: "Baalol temple is now under their sights."
Suddenly the mouse-beaver's eyes went wide. Rhodan had sent him a mental answer: It's nice the Antis' mental powers have been able to make you think so, Pucky! Whereupon Rhodan screened off his mind and left the curious mouse-beaver standing there in confusion.
"There's the temple!" called Bell, pointing to the screen. The temple complex appeared as a tiny rectangle but seemed to be rushing toward the Ironduke.
"A spacer!" exclaimed Claudrin in his thunder voice. "A Springer long-ship-but not as long as usual. What's the objective reading? Gentlemen, do I have to ask you again for the data?"
The reading came through: "The ship is 150 meters long, 30 meters in diameter. Type: Galactic Trader, cylindrical hull."
The energy-trace officer hurried to report: "Confirmed energy trace. Long-ship ready for take-off. Impulse engines have completed run-in cycle."
Com Central received another order from Rhodan: "Transmit the prepared ultimatum to the temple but with one change... We will expect their capitulation in 15 minutes."
"Why not make that five minutes, Perry?" asked Bell disappointedly. "Even that's way too much for these devil priests!"
Rhodan turned thoughtfully to his friend. "If that's the case, Bell, then hitting them with no warning at all wouldn't get us anywhere either. You give them too much credit, Chubby..."
• • •
Thomas Cardif looked on dispassionately while the processing and packaging assembly lines for the Liquitiv were destroyed in the searing beams of energy guns. With the cold-blooded calm of a man who knew there was plenty of time for his escape, he made a careful inspection of the laboratory area to make sure that nothing had been overlooked in the destruction.
In a matter of mere minutes almost 500 Antis were annihilating the investment of millions of credits over the course of many years. However the
y did not appear to regret their action nor did they reveal any anxiety over the advent of Perry Rhodan. Among them was a man who was a living proof that Rhodan was not to be feared: Thomas Cardif, his son.
Cardif spoke by direct wire to TT-1, the Liquitiv plant in the caverns of the Cif Mountains. Dr. Nearman was on the other end of the line. The addicted astro-medico stared at Edmond Hugher's face in wide-eyed amazement. He looked in vain for the stereotyped smile and the dreamy expression. Nor could he ever remember having heard Hugher speak with such energetic firmness.
"Stop gaping, Nearman," Cardif was saying. "From here on you're going to have to keep a sharp lookout. In a few minutes Rhodan is taking over the temple. We've already received his ultimatum. Leave everything in TT-1 as it is but just take care that Rhodan or his men don't find you."
A wild excitement seized Nearman. "Does that mean the priests are going to make a run for it, Hugher? You're leaving us here-to be hounded like rats into our holes in the ground?" He shouted in his naked fear, his wasted features trembling visibly.
"The priests are not running from Rhodan," replied Cardif calmly. "They are merely withdrawing from here because they have no desire to communicate with this Terran pirate. That is all."
He did not hear Nearman's shout of despair and his curses. He had cut the connection, completely indifferent to what might happen to the technicians in Sector TT-1. He turned to look for Tu-poa, who was the only one besides himself now in this area of the installations. Cardif saw the priest come through a doorway from laboratory 3. The fanatic carried a heavy-caliber disintegrator in each hand. Sensing Cardif's gaze, he turned toward him-but in that moment he stumbled.
Cardif didn't have a chance to even shout a warning. Tu-poa tripped over some pieces of fallen debris and his arms flailed out wildly for support. One disintegrator struck the wall and his wrist must have turned back upon him. Thomas Cardif saw the brilliant flash of the weapon, saw the priest collapse to the floor, and instantly realized that Baalol had been deprived of another of his fanatic servants.