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Invasion From Space

Page 10

by Perry Rhodan


  "This is probably nothing but the lull before the storm," warned Bell. He was obviously not satisfied with the out-come of the battle. The enemy had not been totally defeated. "Someday they will try to get even with us."

  "By then our defensive weapons will have been perfected and we will have evolved better tactics still. Don't worry, Reg. Ellert has shown us the right way to deal with them. The main thing we have to remember is, whenever we encounter a Mind Snatcher in his natural body, we must not hesitate an instant before we destroy it."

  This remark evidently upset Bell. He inquired anxiously, "And how about our two prisoners here? Who is supposed to execute them?"

  Rhodan smiled grimly. "I only temporarily prevented the two M.S. from carrying out their commander's order to commit suicide. As soon as I had completed my cross-examination of both prisoners I released them from my hypnotic influence."

  "So?"

  "They finally obeyed their commander's orders, without hesitation. You know, it's most interesting how they resemble wasps in this respect. They too have horrible poisonous stingers."

  Only the most urgent circumstances could bring Allan D. Mercant to leave his underground fortress under the Greenland ice cap. Even then he would do so only very reluctantly-particularly since these sorties were brought about by unpleasant events.

  This time, though, Mercant had a feeling as if he were going on vacation. He clambered into his small, fast service plane and ordered the pilot to fly to New York. The sensation of freedom stayed with Mercant as he walked up Fifth Avenue. Suddenly he stopped and looked across the street to a twenty-two story building.

  Between the seventh and ninth floors he observed the giant letters G.C.C. This then must be where the General Cosmic Company had its offices! Mercant felt a bit disappointed. He had expected that Rhodan would have bought up at least the whole skyscraper. But maybe, Mercant thought, his own lack of experience in business matters did not permit him to make a proper judgment of what course Rhodan should have taken in this respect.

  As Mercant was riding up in the elevator, his happy feeling gave way to a queasy sensation in his stomach. He realized once again that he had to carry all the responsibility on his own shoulders. Deep inside he knew that he was on Rhodan's side, shared his goals and principles. But his own position with the government forced him to pay a professional visit to the offices of the G.C.C.He was unhappy to have to obey the call of duty, which forced him to spy on his friends.

  He almost changed his mind about his official mission when Miss Lawrence, the receptionist, welcomed him with a friendly smile that spoke of her pleasure at his unexpected visit. But then Mercant remembered that the success of his action depended solely on him. If things did not go according to plan or if they went too much against his grain, he would simply tell Homer G. Adams the plain truth. Or better still, he would tell it directly to Perry Rhodan himself. The short, slight manager of the mighty concern received Mercant with extreme politeness. No one could have guessed by looking at him that not too long ago he had been released from a prison in England, where he had spent fourteen years for embezzling large sums of money.

  The two men shook hands and sat down in comfortable leather chairs. Mercant accepted a cigar from Adams, although he really could not stand their stench. Homer leaned back, contentedly puffing away.

  "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Mr. Mercant? Did the Chief send you?"

  He was getting at three things simultaneously, thought Mercant, admiring Adams's skill. First he had asked the reason for this visit. At the same time he had expressed his consternation that Mercant had failed to inform him about his intended call. And to top it off, the catch question, whether Rhodan knew about this meeting. It was obvious that Rhodan would have let Adams know about such a conference if he had any idea about it Mercant felt he would have to proceed very cautiously not to fall into some trap.

  "No, Rhodan knows nothing about this visit," Mercant replied truthfully. "I come on behalf of my own government to obtain certain information." Much better in any case to place his cards on the table. After all, there was no longer a state of war between the government of the Western Bloc and Perry Rhodan. "It is concerning the construction of our common space fleet."

  Homer fingered his rimless glasses, which gave him a very old fashioned appearance. "The space fleet? Hasn't that topic been sufficiently discussed by our experts? To be honest with you, Mr. Mercant, I don't understand too much of what it's all about I am interested only in the financial aspect of the whole project."

  "I haven't come here to bother you with the technical details about the hypothetical propulsion." Mercant smiled patiently. "I am not at all interested in that. Besides, I don't understand any more about it than you do. As you probably know, my government made a first contribution of eighteen billion dollars. How much did you receive from the other governments?"

  Homer raised his eyebrows. "The total sum amounts to seventy billion dollars," he said as if he were speaking of seventy cents.

  "So much? We did not count on such a huge sum."

  "Neither did I," Homer admitted frankly. "in any case, the project is already in full swing. New factories and production complexes are rising all over the world. Our most capable men are working day and night-that means the people from the Western, Eastern, and Asiatic blocs. For the first time in human history the inhabitants of this planet are collaborating on a common task. We have learned from the successfully averted invasion of the insect race how important such a collaboration has become for mankind. Anyone who secretly pursued any egotistic nationalistic goals would be committing a crime against humanity."

  Mercant could not help but feel that Homer had his own private reasons for making such a long speech. But he did not give himself away by revealing how he felt He simply nodded his head in agreement.

  "You are so right, Mr. Adams. But I can hardly believe that anybody could harbor such a thought nowadays.

  "I wouldn't be so sure, Mr. Mercant," interrupted Adams. "Just a few days ago they caught a Western spy in one of the Chinese industrial concerns. I cannot believe that this guy was carrying on there out of his own free will."

  Mercant folded his hands in a nervous gesture. He shook his head. "If you deal with such a huge organization as that of the Western Defense, it takes a long time before they can call back all their agents. Most of our people are working on their own most of the time. Quite often we don't even know where they are at the moment-"

  "But wouldn't it be wiser to avoid such incidents totally in the interests of world cooperation?" Homer interrupted rather rudely. "It doesn't take much-just some such stupid thing could disrupt the newly established unity among the nations of this world. Anyhow, it will be many years before the last trace of distrust has disappeared. I know, Mercant, that you are on our side; but you should get rid of the last ties that bind you to a cause that forces you to actions running contrary to your own convictions. Do you get what I mean?"

  Mercant raised his hands in a little gesture of regret. "I certainly understand you, Adams. I have already discussed this previously with Rhodan. He is of the opinion, though, that I should remain working for the Western Powers. After all, we can't know who would take my place once I leave my position. This way seems to be the lesser evil."

  "You have a point there," admitted Homer. "But let's go on with our talk. We are sending orders all over the world from our scientific center. Parts of our future space fleet are already being manufactured in several large industrial concerns. Mankind is already constructing the most advanced weapons bit by bit, without realizing what all the single parts will become once they are properly assembled. So far they seem like incomprehensible fragments, which do not reveal what the end product might be. And it is the same way with our spaceships. In another six months we will have reached the point where we can assemble ten faster than light space cruisers within a few days from all the individual segments that different factories have turned out i
ndependently from each other, without knowing what all was for. You see what undreamt of potential can be put into reality by mankind once they forget their differences. Of course, the world does not have any idea about all this, and it might be wise to keep this information to yourself for the time being."

  Adams watched Mercant's reaction to what he just had said. Homer's foxy eyes sparkled amusingly behind his thick glasses. He seemed to be aware of the dilemma into which his words had plunged Allan D. Mercant. To make matters even worse, Adams seemed to enjoy thoroughly the secret pleasure that this knowledge afforded him.

  "In addition to all that, we are supplying all the tool machines unknown to man," he continued with apparent unconcern, thus giving Mercant all the information he had believed he could obtain only with the greatest of difficulties.

  "These tool machines have been built in other parts of the world under our supervision, according to plans supplied by us. We also give them all kinds of materials that Rhodan has brought down to Earth from the moon. As you probably know, only the exterior of the Arkonide research craft, stranded on the moon, was destroyed when bombed by hostile terrestrial military forces. The interior with its huge storerooms remained mainly undamaged, with all the technical secrets of the Arkonide super-technology intact"

  Once again Mercant nodded his head vigorously to express his agreement with what Adams was telling him. The little financial wizard had just put his finger right on the spot. There were incredible treasures hidden up there in the remains of the wrecked Arkonide spaceship. But the Western Bloc did not possess a single spacecraft suitable to get at this treasure trove,

  Or perhaps...?

  There had been feverish activity of late at Nevada Spaceport; Mercant was well informed about this. But for the first time Mercant's men had been refused admission to the assembly halls inside the industrial plant. Something was going on there that the world should not know about.

  All of a sudden it seemed to Mercant that his eyes had been opened. Everything fell into place. He compared his mission to obtain information that appeared so harmless on the surface with what he just had learned from Adams. Then it became clear to him that the government of the Western Bloc was not strictly living up to its agreements with Perry Rhodan. Mercant was furious. His anger was based on his innate honesty. But before he could speak up, the manager of the G.C.C. continued, "What else were you supposed to find out from me, Mercant?"

  An embarrassed smile came over the boyish face of the Chief of the Western Defense. "We were only interested in the bit about the cruiser on the moon. All the other questions were intended as diversionary tactics."

  "Thanks," countered Adams. "I knew that all along. Why do they want to find out all this?"

  "I wouldn't have the faintest idea," Mercant said frankly. "I just noticed the possibility of certain coincidences, but I am not yet quite sure. But you may rest assured that I will inform Rhodan without fail if I have the slightest proof for a certain suspicion that just has occurred to me. By the way, many thanks for your sincerity and frankness. Believe me, my superiors will learn only whatever I think they should about this conversation."

  "You can always count on me, Mercant," replied Adams, and rose to see his caller to the door. Then Homer returned to his seat and stared for a few seconds at the telecom that would permit instant communication with Rhodan in his desert base or anywhere else he might be.

  But then Adams shook his head. Rhodan had more important things to do than being bothered with suspicions. For the time being it would be sufficient if Adams kept an eye on this affair.

  General Pounder walked leisurely across the Nevada Spaceport testing grounds in company of Lieutenant Colonel Maurice. They were approaching one of the many giant halls that lay row on row under the burning midday sun. This was the place where a few years ago the Stardust I had been built, the ship had taken Rhodan and his crew on the first successful flight to the moon; and here too had been constructed the moon rocket that sometime later was sent up to the moon to destroy the stranded Arkonide cruiser, whereby both attacker and attacked perished.

  The huge hangar like hall had no windows, in contrast to the neighboring sheds, which reminded one of hothouses, with entire walls and roofs made of glass. This building seemed hermetically sealed from the outside world, while its neighbors let in freely the plentiful sunshine.

  The general pounded the small entrance door with his mighty fists. A tiny crack opened, and a face became visible that examined the general from head to toe, as if he had never seen him before.

  "What do you want?" inquired the man inside the door.

  "I am General Pounder," answered the general. "I want to get in!"

  "I'm afraid that's not possible. Against regulations."

  "Whose?"

  "General Pounder's orders, sir."

  Lieutenant Maurice burst out laughing, while Pounder's face grew as red as a beet. The door opened a bit more and a young man in uniform became visible. He saluted smartly as if wanting to apologize for his logical but militarily correct behavior.

  "I must examine your passes," he added, strictly according to the prescribed rules and regulations."

  Pounder looked at Maurice, who at once stopped laughing.

  "You see, Maurice, that's the way our soldiers should be trained. I hope you did not forget your identity card. Otherwise, I can't take you inside with me."

  Fortunately both officers had their papers with them. The young guard examined them thoroughly, before he opened the door sufficiently to permit the two to enter the shed. Once inside General Pounder and Lieutenant Colonel Maurice had to close their eyes. The light was blinding. There were no partitions whatsoever in the immense hall, which stretched for more than six hundred feet in length and up to a height of more than one hundred fifty feet. A maze of scaffolding and cranes made easily accessible every corner of the huge building. Little trains moved along shiny rails toward a tunnel, disappearing in its depth, not to be seen again.

  A feverish activity reigned inside the shed, and the din of the machines was deafening. Lieutenant Colonel Maurice clapped his hands over his ears to protect them from the sudden onslaught of unbearable noise.

  "I can't hear myself think," he shouted to the general.

  "What did you say?"

  "I was only saying that it's too noisy in here for talking to each other."

  General Pounder shook his head and pointed to his ears. "I can't understand a word you are saying!" he roared.

  Lieutenant Colonel Maurice threw his hands up in despair. Then he laughed. He knew it made no sense even to attempt to explain that the noise was too great here in this shed.

  Workers were rushing past them, never giving them so much as a glance. Highly polished metal parts glided past on low trains, disappearing in the small work sheds that ringed the free space in the center of the huge hall. This was where the engineers had their offices.

  General Pounder stopped suddenly. He had taken his assistant along today for the first time inside the heavily guarded work shed, which was controlled day and night by a cordon of soldiers. Lieutenant Colonel Maurice stepped aside for a moment to let pass a worker and then looked up. He was thunderstruck! For there, right in the middle of the hall, resting on a flat ramp that slanted slightly upward, he saw a long silvery torpedo. Round portholes extended along the center line and a small crane was just depositing a cylindrical tank inside the loading hatch of the storeroom.

  The noise of the riveters' guns drowned out Maurice's curse. There in front of him, barely fifty feet away, lay the exact replica of the Stardust I, which once had carried Perry Rhodan and his men to their first landing on the moon.

  And no one in the outside world had any idea of the existence of this new space rocket...

  Three months went by before Perry Rhodan felt certain that the Mind Snatchers would not risk another invasion, for the time being, at least. During these three months he had almost managed to forget them, since the whole world was under
the spell of the General Cosmic Company. Everywhere on Earth mighty industrial complexes had sprung up, where production was started under the direction of the technicians and planners.

  Homer G. Adams sat in his offices in New York like a giant spider in its web. The walls were covered with maps, dotted with tiny flags with incomprehensible letters and signs. Homer spent all his time in front of the telecom. Occasionally he got some sleep.

  The power of the concern be had built up grew from day to day. The day when a certain Benjamin Wilder could proclaim that the world was his, because be had financed it, seemed close at hand, Benjamin Wilder was the power behind G.C.C., and hardly anyone knew that Benjamin Wilder was just another alias for Perry Rhodan.

  Khrest failed to understand this phenomenon of practically runaway development. It was alien to his way of thinking. He had underestimated the dynamics of human nature, although he believed humans to be the most capable race the Arkonides had ever encountered in the universe. Silently he walked alongside Rhodan as they left their living quarters shortly before sunset in order to get some fresh air. Reginald joined them.

  Instinctively the three went in the direction of that three sided pyramid under which the body of a man was waiting to be awakened to life again. They were still at quite some distance from the mausoleum that housed Ernst Ellert's lifeless form, when they recognized a tall, slender figure standing in front of the structure.

  Perry Rhodan could not hide his surprise as be called out to his friends, "It's Thora! What is she doing out here?"

 

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