by Perry Rhodan
For the second time, Suttney went over to the hypercom console and fired up the transmitter.
• • •
It was determined that the Arkonide fleet had emerged from hyperspace in a compact formation. The more than 4,000 warships in such close proximity to each other actually created a new center of gravitational force, so great was their combined mass. The swiftly processed calculations of the positronicon soon revealed that this fleet was made up of typical Arkonide units and groupings which flew in a spherical formation whose diameter was not over 120,000 miles. Under normal conditions it might have been a favorable formation but here where the units of the Terranian fleet were widely deployed waiting for them it was not quite so practical.
The Arkonides had ended their transition at a distance of six astronomical units from the central star of the system. From that point on the alien fleet proceeded toward the yellow sun at a speed of only about six miles per second. It was easy to observe that they were in a state of bewilderment because they obviously didn't know what was happening around them. Each enemy ship could detect the tracking blips of Terranian ships on its screens as easily as the Terrans could see the light points representing Arkonide vessels but so far they'd had no chance to estimate the size and strength of the opposing fleet. The Terranian ships were too widely deployed to generate a discernible gravity field and every attempt to send out a hyper-tracer resulted in the entrapment of the search beam in the Earth warships' energy-absorbing anti-detection screens.
Two hours went by without any decisive move being made by either side. Rhodan considered it an appropriate tactic to keep the Arkonides guessing. It served to spread confusion throughout the enemy fleet and it also gave the leading robot commander no information as a basis for reevaluating his position or making new plans.
The complete radio silence that reigned out there for two hours in that small universe of opposed fighting ships was almost eerie. The Terranian ships were held to silence in order to prevent any disclosure to the enemy as to the strength of the Earth fleet. On the Arkonide side, such a waiting lull was of no consequence to the robot crews because they had nothing to say to each other. They were mechanical receivers of commands—from the 'Leader' down to the lowest soldier.
After more than two hours of waiting, the silence was finally interrupted when Suttney began to send out his location bearings. A wave of relief swept through the radio com stations of all Earth ships. But not only there. The fact that Suttney was beaming his signal was an indication that he knew nothing yet concerning the presence of the Terranian fleet. Otherwise he would have waited if possible for a more favorable time. He would not have betrayed his position. So this made Perry Rhodan's task much easier. He didn't have to get involved in an uncertain waiting game, at least not any longer. So he, too, gave a great sigh of relief.
He gave the Fleet a prearranged signal, whereupon the widely deployed units got under way again and regrouped themselves around the central portion of the system. The location of Suttney's transmitter had been determined to be the innermost planet, which revolved about the central star at a mean distance of
0.6 AU or about 36 million miles.
On all telescopic viewscreens the general picture changed with a startling abruptness. Now at the decisive moment, Perry Rhodan was not at all averse to demonstrating his strength to the enemy. The ship's engines emitted high-speed quantum particles. Gleaming fountains of light shot out of the mighty jets, bringing the giant fleet into motion. The sharp brilliance of the particle exhausts caused thousands of glittering light points to appear on all viewscreens.
The Arkonides began to stir. Their vast spherical formation dissolved into a wide, flat configuration of squadrons which also thrust forward toward the innermost planet of the system.
Rhodan let them carry on, to a point. But when the Drusus came within six million miles of its destination and the lead ship of the Arkonide fleet was only 10 million miles from the planet, Perry hailed the alien commander by radio. He was certain that there was a living, organic commander, even though in reality he might have nothing to command, receiving his orders as he must from a robot.
Apparently the Arkonide had been waiting for such a call because the swiftness of his response was almost instantaneous. Rhodan's hunch turned out to be correct in that the Arkonide ships did carry Arkon-subjugated aliens as an organic supplement to the robot crews. A few seconds after he had signaled he saw on his viewscreen the upper portion of a giant Naat, one of the three-eyed creatures from the fifth world of the Arkon system. The Naat's triple gaze held balefully on Perry Rhodan. Its round, hairless head glistened in the fluorescents and its wide, thin-lipped mouth appeared to be drawn into a fixed grin. But Rhodan knew that it was not a grin at all. As far as being able to read the creature's emotional state by its expression was concerned, he might as well have been looking at a polar bear.
Since the Naat waited for him to speak first, Rhodan began, using an informal, colloquial form of Arkonese:
"Naturally I can't forbid you to bring your fleet into this particular system but I wish to draw to your attention the fact that three deserters from my own forces have landed on the innermost planet in a stolen spaceship. And I'm expecting you to keep your fingers out of this."
The Naat looked down off screen involuntarily, observing something that was not within Rhodan's range of vision. 'Keep your fingers out' was as acceptable an expression in Arkonese as it was in English. But the Naat was no doubt regarding his own hands, which had claws instead of fingers. Rhodan understood the inferiority complexes that the Arkon-subjugated races often suffered. For example, if they said, "My hair is standing on end," they would only do so because forced to speak the language of their rulers, even though they had no hair.
After the Naat had observed his hands for awhile, he answered: "We are here in response to a distress call. We always come to the aid of those who ask for help."
The reply was given in desperation because obviously the Naat had not yet received any instructions from his robot superior.
"Alright, you can stop the double talk," Rhodan told him gruffly. "I picked up that so-called distress call myself. It was beamed out by the three deserters. What I want to know is whether or not you are going to stay out of this affair."
The Naat looked down a second time. Although Rhodan could not see what he was looking at, he was certain that an instruction card had popped out of some kind of ejection slot, transmitting to him what the robot wanted him to reply.
"We will take measures according to the situation," said the Naat.
"Fine," retorted Rhodan menacingly. "Then let me clarify your situation for you. If any of your ships approach the innermost planet within a perimeter of 60,000 miles, we will commence firing. I trust that is plain enough for you. We have no intention of letting you mix in the internal affairs of our fleet. Over and out!" He broke off the connection before the Naat could say anything.
The Terranian ships drew in closer to their destination. Rhodan ordered his commanders to guard the line of limitation which he had prescribed for the Arkonides. So at a distance of 60,000 miles from the desert world a huge cloud of ships began to form, both Terranian and Arkonide.
A new period of waiting began. Walter Suttney's bearing signals had ceased. On board the Drusus a Gazelle was made ready for flight. It had been assigned the task of going down to the planet's surface and searching for the three deserters and first Lt. Chellish.
• • •
During the one hour period in which Suttney transmitted his coordinates to the enemy, Chellish fairly trembled with mounting excitement. At any moment he hoped to see a Terranian spaceship drop from the sky and land at the entrance to the ravine.
Then he rechecked his figures and came to the conclusion that such a fast response was quite impossible. If the Earth ships had picked up and analyzed their resonance frequency during the Gazelle's last transition, and if the fleet were say 5000 light-years away at the time, with
out question it would be led to the alien solar system that the deserters had selected but it would still be a long while before they knew where the Gazelle was located within that system. When dealing with distances of hundreds and even thousands of light-years, one often overlooked the fact that a spatial plane of 'only' 60 billion square miles, represented by even as small a system as this one, was an almost endless region in which a ship like the Gazelle could hide at will. When the Earth ships arrived in the Caligula System they would still be faced with a large-scale search operation. And even if they picked up Suttney's bearing coordinates it would require some time before they could manoeuvre in around Tantalus and prepare for a landing.
No, it was still too early to hope for a rescue. And this was quite aside from the fact that if Terranian ships were here at all they would certainly be hindered by the presence of an Arkonide fleet, since the enemy would not likely give up this rare opportunity to learn something about the galactic position of the Earth.
Which brought Chellish to another idea. What would happen if the Earth rescue ships saw they were outnumbered by the Arkonides? What action would they take in order to prevent the sacred secret from falling into the enemy's hands in spite of the latter's fighting superiority?
The answer was so simple and obvious that anybody would see it, including whatever spaceship commander happened to be involved with such a decision. One of the Earth ships would attempt to get past the Arkonides. It would shoot down toward Tantalus with the object of locating and destroying the Gazelle.
As simple as that. One bomb or a disintegrator salvo—curtains!
Chellish could feel the sweat popping out on his forehead. He looked up involuntarily toward the ceiling of the control room as though he could see through the metal hull and observe the Earth spaceship as it prepared to lob in a bomb or perhaps dropped the hatch cover from one of its mighty disintegrator turrets.
No, it was still too early for that. There was still a small time-span of maybe one or two hours. But whoever hadn't cleared out of the Gazelle by that time was a dead man.
While Chellish was thus preoccupied, Suttney had been unusually active. Since Chellish had heard the hum of the outer lock door he knew that the other had been outside somewhere. Now he came back with a plastic film case under his arm, which was recognizable as equipment from the data bank room. Chellish knew what it contained: microfilm data which would enable anyone to derive the galactic position of the Earth. In addition, Suttney had put on a protective spacesuit over his uniform. He was ready to leave the ship. Behind him came Ronson Lauer, who was also suited up.
"Go get yourself a spacesuit, Roane," Suttney growled.
Roane got up and left the room.
Chellish made an attempt to look surprised. "Are you going to leave the ship?" When Suttney only nodded, he asked, "Why?"
Lauer snorted sarcastically. "That's a dumb question, Chellish. If any Earth ship happens to be around here anywhere, what would it probably do as soon as it finds us?"
Chellish shrugged.
"It would blow us to Hell!" snapped Lauer. "To shut us up! That's why we'd prefer to go have a look around outside."
"So you're getting your nerve back, eh?" Chellish asked scornfully.
Lauer's face twisted into a mocking sneer. "I wasn't under the impression I ever lost it, Chellish!" he retorted.
With a swift movement he drew his weapon. Chellish jumped away but then saw that the blast was not intended for him. Lauer made a dramatic, heel-clicking turn and directed the glowing white stream of energy at the main control panel across the room. The concentrated beam split the metal panel in two. The metal vaporized with a hissing sound and spewed in all directions to settle sluggishly on the walls and condense again. Glass panels shattered in a series of tinkling crashes and a wild flurry of short-circuits stormed through the internal wiring. The control room was filled with heat and the stench of burned insulation. Within a minute the main switchboard was so demolished that no one could ever repair it again.
Lauer turned to him with a grin. He appeared to be quite pleased with his accomplishment. The weapon was still in his hand. "That's just in case you thought we'd let you make an easy getaway!" he laughed.
Chellish got the message. He looked at Suttney but the latter avoided his searching gaze. "You dirty coward!" Chellish exclaimed, disdainfully. Then he turned his attention to Lauer again.
"So this is the end of the line for you, Chellish," announced Lauer, apparently enjoying his part of the drama. "You've been enough trouble for us up till now. Now we're through with all that. Oh don't think I'm going to kill you—I'm leaving that little chore for your friends in the Fleet. I presume they'll make a thorough job of it. You didn't know you were going to stay here in the ship, did you? But you see I have to keep you from spying after us—you can understand that, can't you?"
Chellish hardly listened to him. He knew what was to come and his brain was trying to sweat out a solution. There was nothing close by that he could use as a weapon. Suttney stood near the exit hatch and Lauer prudently maintained a five-yard distance from him. Leisurely, the latter now raised the thermo-gun and aimed it at Chellish as though this were the moment he relished most of all.
Chellish held his breath and tensed his muscles. He saw that Lauer was aiming high at his shoulder. Just as he felt that the other was about to press the trigger, he made a broad jump sideways. The shot hissed past him and hit the wall. Lauer was confused for a second but it was enough time for Chellish to turn and spring at him. Perhaps a man of less experience than Lauer might have been overcome by this daring manoeuvre—but Ronson Lauer merely took a short step back and fired a second shot before Chellish could reach him.
Chellish saw a blinding flash of lightning, which he seemed to run into. He did not feel the slightest trace of any pain. Something seemed to raise him gently and waft him away into an endlessness filled with wondrous light.
5/ TRAITORS' FATES
On 13 Oct. 2042 the Terrania Times reported:
We have occasion once more to carefully scrutinize a report concerning the concentration of the Terranian Fleet near the center of the galaxy, which has been officially described as a manoeuvre only. Now, however, our sources inform us that an Arkonide fleet has also appeared in that same sector of space. All indications are that no mere manoeuvre is involved but rather a joint expedition against a common enemy. The strength of the participating forces leads us to suspect that this is no ordinary local skirmish. It appears that a threat of considerable magnitude has emerged in that area of the Milky Way—danger that is of equal concern to both galactic empires—the Arkonides' and our own.
We should like to assume that the current flood of official news releases covering these distant events is an attempt on the part of the Ministry of Information to maintain the public status quo of calm, comfort and complacency. But as we have often pointed out and will reiterate again today, if the cool-headed and battle-ready support of Terranians is to be counted on provision must be made for keeping us informed of all important developments.
• • •
One's last thought is held so tenaciously by the consciousness that it is the first part of perception when one awakens from the unconscious state.
When Chellish came to, he wondered that he was still alive. The soundless, blinding explosion, the weightless drifting through glowing and formless emptiness—all that had appeared to be death, resulting from Lauer's thermogun. But suddenly there was neither light nor weightlessness nor floating. It was dark and he lay on something hard and a searing pain gnawed at his right side.
He raised up slowly. The pain was so severe that he couldn't keep his eyes from watering.
He wondered why it was so dark. Then he remembered that Lauer had shot the main panel to pieces. At that time there had still been bright daylight outside and since the viewscreens hadn't been attached to the main panel the light had flooded from them as though through wide windows. Now it was night. There was o
nly a barely perceptible greyish glimmer marking the location of the panoramic screen.
He knew what had happened to him but it was some time before he could remember events prior to that. He recalled that Suttney, Lauer and Roane were about to leave the ship but a few minutes passed before it came to him why they had this in mind.
Danger! Disaster threatened! The first Earthship to detect the Gazelle would destroy it without hesitation.
This brought him fully to his senses. While trying to forget the raging pain in his hip, he brought his wrist-watch close to his eyes so that he could see the luminous dial. He knew that when Lauer had shot him it had been 8:40 Earth time. Now it was 9:15. He had lain here unconscious for more than half an hour. It was high time to get clear of the ship.
The control room door was open. After Lauer's demolition of the switch panel there had been no power to close the sliding hatch. It occurred to him that in such a case the two airlock doors must also be open. So he must be breathing the air of Tantalus. Strange: he had not noticed any difference, nor did it seem to be especially hot.
No wonder, he thought in the next moment. Tantalus must have its extremes of temperature and climate.
At night it probably became as bitterly cold as it was intolerably hot in the daytime.
He got up and staggered out of the room into the corridor, where he located the spacesuit locker. It was empty. The remaining suits were strewn out on the deck a few yards beyond it but when Chellish checked them over he didn't find one of them that was intact. They all had holes in them big enough to stick his head through. They had left him no chance for survival.
He was filled with a choking anger as he staggered onward to the open airlock. The outer hatch opening was only a few feet above the ground. He jumped out and then took a tumble because his right leg was not able to take the impact of the landing. He sprawled face first into the sand. Then he put his weight on his left leg and got up again.