For 2 full days Pucky put Iltu through her training exercises. He would lead her to a specific location where she was instructed to firmly memorize her surroundings. Then he would take her back and order her to teleport to the target area. At first it didn’t always work out. Although she could dematerialise properly she would often land in an entirely different place. Then Pucky would have to make a long search until he found her. Even telepathy didn’t help much because Iltu couldn’t say where she had landed.

These drills were surprising as well as distressing to the crew of the Caesar. Sometimes it was even a shock to the men because it was not an everyday occurrence to suddenly be confronted with a figure that popped right out of the air. And Iltu materialized in machine rooms, gun turrets, cabins and even rest rooms.

However, at the end of the second day Pucky had to admit that she was making progress. "That’s pretty good now, little one. If you keep on like that you’ll be a usable teleporter. There’s no doubt that you have the ability."

It was a gross understatement, to which Iltu objected.

Pucky, you’re mean! In the last 2 hours I didn’t make one false jump. I can teleport!

"Passable," he minimized. "But now you still have to learn how to get to a place you’re not familiar with beforehand. You have to do it by using telepathy. As an example: search out the thoughts of the commander, trace his location and jump. materialise directly in front of him."

"I don’t want to do that," protested Iltu. "The Colonel is very severe. I’m afraid of him."

"Hm-m. Then let’s take somebody else: Lt. Germa." Pucky looked directly at Iltu. "Where is Germa now?"

Iltu understood what she was supposed to do. She concentrated and attempted to sort out the thought patterns pressing in upon her. It required almost 10 minutes before her eyes suddenly brightened. "I’ve got him! He’s off duty and in his cabin."

"Excellent!" said Pucky with a grudging note of praise in his voice. "Then follow me now!"

He jumped almost before completing his sentence. Staring at the spot where he had been, Iltu forgot Pucky and concentrated entirely on Germa’s incoming stream of thoughts. Then she jumped.

Germa was sitting in a chair, reading. Thus he had been putting out a clear and constant stream of thoughts which could easily be intercepted by a telepath. He was abruptly interrupted as Pucky materialised near him and let out a shrill whistle to make him aware of his presence.

Germa half rose out of his seat but then sank back again. He had learned not to be startled so much by Pucky anymore. But then he turned pale a second later when Iltu landed right on his stomach and her weight pushed him into the upholstery.

Is that any way to do? he protested indignantly. "I was just sitting here reading!"

"And we’re training," replied Pucky. "Well done, Iltu! That was good measuring. You came right in on target. Of course it wasn’t exact precision or you would have landed on top of his head. I’m presuming that’s where he keeps his brain."

Germa straightened up after Iltu slipped out of the chair. "That’s just about enough, Pucky! At least you could leave me in peace during the little free time I have off. You know we’re getting close to the operation zone and after that we’ll hardly have a chance to sleep. We’re already on alert here and apparently you have nothing better to do than to spook innocent people —and even bug them. Shame on you, Iltu! I wouldn’t have expected this of you."

The girl mousebeaver shyly lowered her eyes and pattered timidly closer to him. She chirped plaintively: "I didn’t mean to do it that way, Germa. But we have to practice or otherwise I may fail when things are serious. I’m sorry, too, about landing on your tummy. I meant to just appear in your room. So please don’t be angry … "

Germa’s indignation melted away like butter in the sun. He reached out his hand and drew Iltu toward him. "That’s alright, little one. You’re not to blame." He looked disapprovingly at Pucky. "But he is big enough and apparently old enough, as well, to cut out this kind of tomfoolery."

Pucky had straightened up stiffly. "I am nor that old!" he retorted heatedly. He then dematerialised as if he’d been insulted.

Germa stared at the empty spot. "What’s the matter with him, anyway?" he said.

Iltu revealed that she was not one to use the opportunity for slandering her fellow creature or making him look ridiculous. "I don’t know," she answered, taking her paw from the young officer’s hands. "Excuse me—I’ll go look after him. Until later … "

Then Germa was alone again.

He picked up his book but suddenly he had no more interest in reading.

* * * *

The rest period was over on board the ship when the alarms sounded.

In the Control Central, Capt. Henderson sat before the navigation screens while he analysed the data that was coming in from the tracking centre. The forward screen’s angle of vision narrowed as the view was magnified. Eleven faintly gleaming blips of light became visible.

Col. Sukril had given the alarm as a matter of precaution because he couldn’t be sure if these were the sought-after robotships or fighting units of the Springers or some other race. Formations of 10 or more robotships were not unusual. They could have been in a flight group together when the robot Regent ceased functioning—in which case they would now be drifting onward without pilots or propulsion until eternity itself put an end to their course. Or perhaps the search commandos.

"Course and velocity unchanged," said Capt. Henderson after 2 minutes of calculation. "All signs indicate that we’re dealing with the ships of Arkon. Your orders, sir?"

Col. Sukril did not take his eyes from the screen. He thought of Col. Kermak’s bitter experience. This wasn’t going to happen to him. If any Springers appeared he was going to attack them immediately but in no case was he going to destroy the robotships. But aside from the robot units nothing could be detected by the trackers in a surrounding area of 800 light-years. The nearest sun was 800 light-years sternward from the Caesar. It seemed that sector BM-53-XB was about the loneliest region a man could imagine.

"Decrease velocity, Captain. Hold our present course. All gun crews on standby. Lt. Germa, report to Control Central!"

Germa was only one among a number of team officers so it was merely by chance that he chose him. He might just as easily have picked out Capt. Delmarin Maj. Borovski or Lt. Steinwald but he selected Lt. Germa. It was one of those instinctive decisions that often change the course of events. Perhaps also Col. Sukril’s knowledge of the good rapport between Germa and the 2 mousebeavers had helped to influence his choice.

"We reach the formation in 10 minutes, sir. Their course is the same. Lt. Germa is on his way."

Sukril only nodded. He observed the screen intently those 11 ships out there were drifting without a crew. All radio calls had remained unanswered. There was no indication that the least robot element was functioning.

"Lt. Germa reporting, sir!"

Col. Sukril seemed to awaken as if from a dream. He swivelled around slowly. "Take a look at those ships, ‘Lieutenant. What can you tell me about them?"

Germa moved closer until he was standing next to the commander. With alert eyes he studied the 11 ships. He followed their steady course and took note of their configurations. Without exception they were spherical vessels, from the smallest 60-meter type to the Imperium-class flagship which was the same size as the Caesar. Their relative velocity now was almost zero but actually they were still moving along at a rate of many thousands of km per second. The void beyond them was black. Only a few blurred nebulous specks bore witness to the fact that other galaxies existed across the tremendous abyss. According to present knowledge, nothing lay between but an awesome emptiness; no suns, no planets—and probably also no ships.

"No question about it, sir, they’re robotships, no longer in operation."

Col. Sukril nodded. "That’s also my analysis, Lieutenant. I think we can take them over. Do you have any reservations?"

"No. sir. After all, it’s my job for me and my men to take over one of the ships and bring it back to Earth. Just give the order, sir, and we’ll go into action."

Sukril gave him a fleeting smile. "Don’t be over-confident, Lieutenant. It’s true that there’s no trace of enemy units in the immediate area but that can change. The Springers only have to make one long transition to make a sudden appearance." He sighed. "Take a long-range scoutship and 5 men, Lieutenant. You’re the advanced guard. You can head for the flagship. The main lock can be opened manually from the outside when the electronic security system is out of operation—and that’s the situation now. You will penetrate into the Control Central and from there I will expect to hear your radio report. Is everything clear? Can you get out there and overtake that formation?"

Lt. Germa sought to clear up a certain point. "Then—it’s the normal boarding procedure, sir? No special precautions?"

"Not indicated—-until after your team has gone on board first."

Germa hesitated.

"Something else, Lieutenant?"

"Just one question, sir. What about the teleporter, Pucky?"

"The mousebeaver?" Sukril wrinkled his forehead. "What do we need him for when everything is in order? We only use the mutants when something unforeseen comes up—more or less like an emergency backup."

"I only thought, sir …"

"Do you see any compulsory reason for using him already, Lieutenant?"

"No, certainly not, sir."

"Alright then! You and your men get into the hangar and take one of the Gazelles. Fly it directly into the main lock of the robotship. And now—good luck, Lieutenant."

Germa saluted and went out. He picked out 5 men from his team and hurried with them to the hangar, where the flight personnel were already waiting for them. One of the Gazelles had been made ready for the mission. The disc-shaped scoutship measured 18 meters in height and was almost 30 meters in diameter. It was equipped with a hypertransition system which allowed a jump-range of up to 5 light-years.

Germa was the last one into the airlock but as the hatch was about to be closed the mousebeaver materialized directly in front of him in the hangar. Pucky beckoned to Germa and waddled up closer.

"So it seems I’m not needed," he remarked.

"Nonsense, Pucky! The commander only wants to use you in case of danger—more or less like an emergency brake, you might say."

"I don’t happen to be a brake—and besides, I over-heard your conversation. I’d like to know why it was decided at that supposedly important conference that mutants were to come along. What did I train Iltu for? So we can sit around now and twiddle our thumbs … ?"

Germa looked worriedly at his watch. "I don’t have any more time. The takeoff order can come any second now."

Pucky looked intently at the lieutenant. "Be careful, Germa. There’s something that isn’t right about those ships. I can feel it."

Even Col. Sukril had sensed this but he refused to react to indefinite impulses. Pucky, who had watched Sukril telepathically, could not shake off his uneasy feeling so readily. It had led him to make a quick esp-scan of the robotships. The lack of results by no means reassured him. It was evident that no intelligences were on board the ships, yet something was wrong.

"I’ll call you if something happens, little buddy."

"I’ll be there," Pucky promised. He had determined to get through this mission without clashing with regulations. Otherwise he would have simply teleported on board the robotships long before this in order to check them over personally. At any rate he had decided to have a serious word with Col. Sukril since he needed a broader range of authority. "You only have to think ‘Help!’—nothing more."

The hatch closed. Seconds later the Gazelle glided into the void.

Col. Sukril had given the order for takeoff.

* * * *

The control room of the Gazelle was on top of the disc-shaped hull. Its "roof" was transparent. Germa could clearly observe the 11 robotships. He approached them slowly with his right hand next to the flight lever which he only needed to shove forward in order to hurtle away at tremendous speed. Actually the assumption that aliens could have boarded the ships in the meantime was purely absurd because if that had happened the aliens wouldn’t be waiting around until somebody discovered them. Of course it was also possible that such strangers might not be able to operate the robot controls and this could explain why they were waiting.

But even if that were so, the ships they had arrived in would have to be somewhere in the vicinity. In that case the tracking instruments would have detected them long before this. Pucky had warned him, however, and Germa still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The mousebeaver would not have said anything like that without a reason.

Germa could clearly make out the outlines of the airlocks, the great ring-bulge of the engines and the gun-turret hatches. The viewscreen revealed these details with an increasing clarity but Germa preferred to examine the approaching colossus directly. An uncanny aura of menace seemed to exclude from the robotship, which had originally been assigned to guarding the outer limits of the Arkonide Imperium.

"Brado!" One of the 5 men in the control room came away from his companions and approached him. "What do you think, Sergeant? Where the devil is the main hatch to the hangar?"

From 100 meters away one might have seen that Brado was Mexican or Spanish. His black hair appeared to be glued to his head with pomade. He was nervously turning his space helmet around in his hands. They all wore the lightweight protective suits which could enable them to work in the outer vacuum. The helmet could be put on in a matter of seconds.

"I’m familiar with the Imperium class, sir," he said, "but they have such a big surface area that I don’t know at first glance …"

"Same with me," admitted Germa. But suddenly he saw the small control wheel next to the outlines of a hatch door that must have measured 50 meters in depth. "There it is!"

The problem was solved more quickly than he had first expected. He carefully manoeuvred the Gazelle closer to the ship and then brought it to a relative standstill. They were now no more than 20 meters away from the towering wall of the hull, which at this proximity hardly revealed any curvature.

Germa turned to the others. "Who’s going?" he asked.

An oppressive silence answered him. No one volunteered. It was so unheard of that Germa was speechless for several moments. He could sense the uneasiness of these men whom he knew he could ordinarily depend upon. It was an unrest that seemed to be contagious, because he felt it himself. It was as if he were no longer alone with these 5 men in the ship.

"Sgt. Gork! Take Cadet Wilkovski with you and open that hatch. If necessary we’ll cover you with the weapons—but get a move on!"

The 2 men nodded wordlessly, donned their helmets and secured them with magnetic clamps. Then they turned on their air supply and checked out their radio systems.

"Sgt. Gork ready."

Germa confirmed and gave them their signal. He remained at the controls and activated the airlock mechanism. One minute later they were visible outside the ship. They shoved away from the Gazelle and landed softly a few seconds later on the hull of the superwarship, which had enough mass attraction to work its effect on them.

It was a familiar enough scene for Germa. Two ships stood next to each other, apparently motionless, separated only by a few meters. The jump from one to another was very short but the abyss beneath extended for billions of light-years. Yet a man couldn’t fall into it under such circumstances. Forces of inertia and local mass attraction prevented it. From awesome distances the other island universes sent their shimmering light, beyond human reach—or so it seemed.

Sgt. Gork found the control wheel and began to turn it.

On a robot-operated ship a control wheel was as primitive as it was indispensable. Without a mechanical provision of this nature it would be impossible for a man to enter in case the automatic system failed. The purpose of the wheel was to open a small adjacent manlock. Once inside, an operator could start the semi-automatic machinery which was energized by a power bank.

Over Germa’s head a loudspeaker crackled and Col. Sukril’s voice rang out: "How it is, Lieutenant? Everything alright?"

"I’ve sent 2 men over to the lock, sir. As soon as they raise the hatch I’ll move the Gazelle inside."

"We have you on the screens. Report to me every 2 minutes."

"Very well, sir."

The ship-com speaker fell silent but then the spacecom came to life. It was Sgt. Gork. "The wheel’s stuck, sir. It made only 2 turns and no more. What should I do?"

Germa cursed softly to himself before answering. "Maybe that’s all that’s required. Just give it a try, Sergeant!"

"Sir … ?" This time it was Cadet Lester, who stood behind him in the control room with Brado and Hansen. "Sir … ?"

Germa swung around. "Well, what is it? Can’t you see I’m—"

"Sir—here in the ship—there’s something …"

Germa was aware of a rash of gooseflesh which only confirmed that he had sensed the same thing. He and the other 3 men were not alone in the Gazelle. More accurately stated, they were not alone right here in the control room!

The chamber was not very large and offered no concealment. Even Pucky would have found it difficult to hide here. And also Germa knew the mousebeaver’s presence would not have caused the aura of fear and horror that was undeniably here now.

It was a mental current that came from somewhere and seemed to be concentrating on him. Germa was no telepath or he might have grasped more of what was happening. He could only react instinctively to the unknown presence.

"Keep your beamers ready," he ordered, not knowing any other way to calm his men. Then he turned his attention again to the other two outside.

Meanwhile Sgt. Gork had succeeded in opening the manlock. "I’m going in, sir," Gork reported.

"Wilkovski is to go with you," replied Germa hoarsely. "Both of you stay together. Give an alarm if you run into anybody."

Gork didn’t answer. He and Wilkovski disappeared into the small opening.

The seconds seemed an eternity.

Germa recalled a mission he had been on long ago. Five hundred light-years from Earth they had found a derelict in the void. The design of the ship had been completely unknown, indicating that it had been built by a race that Terra had never contacted before. After the hull had been opened with cutting beams a prize crew went on board. He himself had been a member of the boarding team.

He remembered being gripped by the same feeling he was experiencing now. It had seemed to him as if someone were watching him from unseen eyes and following every move he made. But the wreck had been found to be completely empty. Its builders must have abandoned it long before then, whoever they might have been or whatever they might have looked like. Neither the Arkonides nor the Springers nor the Aras had been able to give any indication of where it had come from. Still today it remained one of the unsolved riddles that the universe seemed to be full of.

Germa came back to the present. He reasoned that he certainly couldn’t compare this robotship with the derelict. Besides, he was sensing the presence of an alien not there but right here in the control room of the Gazelle—someone who could not be seen.

"Sir … ! The controls!"

Germa tensed. The voice of his second sergeant, Brado, had been touched with horror. The flight lever was moving by itself in slow little jerks.

he suddenly saw the hull of the giant battleship recede while the Caesar appeared at one side of his field of vision. The Gazelle picked up speed and with ever-increasing acceleration swept away in an opposite direction. Both of the big warships dwindled rapidly in size; 10 seconds later the smaller companion ships were no longer visible to the naked eye.

It was only then that Germa overcame his momentary paralysis.

His hand gripped the flight lever. Shifting it to the reverse slot, he pulled back. The ship obediently slowed down and described a wide curve. It was on a course that would bring them back to where they had started from.

But then an invisible hand shoved it forward again, slowly but steadily. When Germa grasped it firmly again it seemed to be immovable as if it had been welded in place. It could not be budged.

The inertial forces had been absorbed automatically. Sgt. Brado had thrown himself against the door as if he feared that someone might enter the control room—perhaps somebody who might be lurking outside in the corridor. He didn’t realize how useless this was because if any invisible alien were on board the Gazelle he would have to be right here in the room with them.

The 2 cadets Hansen and Lester leaned with blanched faces against the wall near the communications console, unable to move a muscle. They stared in wide-eyed bewilderment at the bewitched flight lever.

Germa gave up his struggles. He was faced with something for which there was simply no explanation. Because if it were merely an invisible person grasping the lever he should have been able to feel his hand. He had been struggling with it at the same time and yet had not contacted a thing. If there was a stranger here he would have to be not only invisible but immaterial as well.

The Caesar was only a dimly glimmering point of light in the immensity when Col. Sukril reacted. Altogether about 15 seconds had passed at the most.

"What’s wrong with you, Germa? Have you lost your mind?"

"Sir, we’ve lost control of the Gazelle. Somebody is changing the flight settings—and they’re invisible!"

5 seconds of silence ensued. During that 5 seconds the Caesar and the group of robotships faded completely from Germa’s range of vision. The shimmering band of the Milky Way and a few isolated giant suns was all he could see.

"Try to bring the ship back under control, Germa. Keep sending us your tracking coördinates. We’ll get you back. Over and out!"

No question, no amazement or surprise, nothing. Why not?

Lt. Germa stared at the flight lever, which was shoved out to the last notch. The Gazelle was at its top acceleration. If the present situation weren’t changed they would soon be in the realm of relativistic velocities. The course had shifted again. Now if they continued straight on they would reach a dimly shining nebulous mass that was barely distinguishable from the black background of the absolute void.

An island universe? A star cluster between the galaxies? Or actually a nebula?

The Gazelle was racing toward it.

If one were to discount the possibility of making a transition—or more likely a thousand or a hundred thousand hyper jumps—it might take a few million years to reach it.

In sudden anger Germa grasped the flight lever again. He encountered a motionless piece of metal.

"Pucky!" he said aloud. "Help me now!"

* * * *

Sgt. Gork and Cadet Wilkovski knew nothing about what was happening outside the airlock. They had penetrated the giant launch chamber and immediately located the mechanical controls. A few manipulations of switches served to turn on the automatic sequence and they waited.

Almost a full minute went by. Within that minute Germa and the 3 men with him traversed a distance of more than 10,000 km. Under their feet a dull rumbling began. They felt the deckplates vibrating. There were unintelligible sounds in their headphones.

Then the main hatch began to open and to slide into its retainer well. The gulf of the outer darkness began to be visible. But the mighty lock door only opened half-way before it stopped. The rumbling ceased and all was still.

Sgt. Gork stepped forward to the edge of the chamber deck. He could clearly see the Caesar standing off at some distance where it had been previously but the Gazelle had disappeared. Recalling the unintelligible noises in his helmet receiver, he adjusted his transmitter and called the Caesar. He learned from Col. Sukril what had transpired but no explanation was given.

"Stay where you are, Sergeant—I’ll send reinforcements. We’ll take care of Germa later."

"But …"

Did you hear my order? Alright then! Wait!"

Gork gritted his teeth. He was standing here uselessly while something weird was happening to Germa. Cadet Wilkovski was only a few steps away from him when he suddenly cried out. In their headphones were the same distorted and hideous sounds again.

"The hatch … !"

Gork saw it himself. The lock door began to close, slowly but steadily. However there was no accompanying rumble or vibration of running machinery. The great launch gate was lowering as though it were being moved by invisible hands. It was closing without any help from the motor drive.

Without thinking, Gork ran forward and dove through the narrowing gap into the emptiness of space. He chose to try getting to the Caesar this way or take his chances on getting fished out of the void rather than remain in a haunted ship.

Cadet Wilkovski stayed where he was. He was no hero, which was why he hadn’t moved. It was better here, he reasoned, than to take the risk of running out of air somewhere among the stars.

The launch hatch closed.

* * * *

A few seconds before this, Pucky had teleported to the Control Central of the Caesar. He had given Iltu strictest orders to remain in her cabin and keep in telepathicontact with him. It had not taken long but each moment was precious now.

Col. Sukril almost jumped when the mousebeaver made such a sudden intrusion right next to him but then he remembered and was willing to dispense with regulations for the moment. And Pucky also forgot the rule books. Sukril’s rank was a side issue now.

Well, here’s your backstop, buddy! I knew right away there was something wrong about those ships. Why didn’t you let me go with Germa … ?"

"Quiet!", roared Sukril, turning red in the face. But he still kept his eyes on the viewscreen. "Who’s the commander here—you or me?"

Wanting to be polite, Pucky ignored the question. "Shall I make the jump?"

"What are you still waiting for? Open that main hatch so a fully-manned Gazelle can fly in there. Do you know the robot controls enough to make the switch to manual?"

"I took a course in it!" Pucky muttered angrily. Without another word he dematerialised.

In his haste of course he had forgotten to put on his Arkonide combatsuit. He merely wore his normal uniform, which only allowed him to remain in a breathing environment, and it afforded him no protection against an attack of any kind.

He materialized in the launch chamber. A dim emergency lamp shone from the ceiling, which was enough to reveal Cadet Wilkovski. He was back against the wall, staring at him out of a fear-whitened face and holding a beamer in his hand.

"It’s me, Pucky! Where’s Gork?"

Wilkovski lowered his weapon. "He jumped out." he said shakily. "Before the hatch closed."

Pucky looked around. It wasn’t hard for him to locate the controls. But no matter how much he laboured with them the launch gate failed to move. It was as if it were held fast by invisible forces.

After his telekinesis also failed him, Pucky gave it up. "You stay here, Wilkovski. I’ll make a try in the Control Central. Maybe it’ll work when I cut out the robot circuits. As soon as the gate opens, tell Col. Sukril to send the troops. Tell him to man all 11 ships at the same time. Did you get that?"

Wilkovski nodded. "Yes—but what about Germa?"

"I’ll worry about him as soon as there’s time. He’s not in immediate danger. So you wait here!"

The ship was of the same model series as the Caesar but since it hadn’t been planned for use by living crews it was devoid of every human comfort. The cabins included in the design were empty but in case of operation by organic intelligences the ship could be made livable at any time by means of the appropriate installations.

Pucky teleported directly into the Control Central. When he materialized he remained in one spot, motionless. Here, too, was a burning emergency light although it might appear superfluous to the untrained observer. Pucky recalled that such lights were always provided on robotships and that they were designed to turn on automatically in the presence of radiated heat from living beings.

The giant control board and countless meters and rows of instrument consoles were not confusing to Pucky. He knew exactly what he had to do because now his previous experience was an advantage. He had been through this in the Blue System when the Terrans had stolen a robot fleet from the Akons that Atlan had unwillingly turned over to them. All he had to do was remove the tiny capsule from the activating circuit. Once this was done the ship would respond again to manual controls.

He took only a step or two toward the controls before he suddenly froze in his tracks again. Here it was again—the strange awareness of horrible danger.

His sensitive brain registered incoming thought impulses that had no fixed pattern and certainly didn’t make any sense. Basically all they transmitted were emotions and they were anything but friendly. A wave of hate flooded in upon him, apparently from nowhere. For a moment he had to struggle against a feeling of panic but his instinct of self-preservation won out. He jerked the energy gun from his belt and released the safety. The deadly weapon was ready for firing.

He looked slowly about him in every direction in search of the enemy who had to be hiding somewhere very close by. But he saw nothing although he could sense something present. The waves of hate came at him from all sides and threatened to pull him into unknown depths. Yes, that was it—it was as if he were caught in a whirlpool.

The enemy was here with him in the Control Central but he was invisible!

Pucky backed up slowly until he stood with his back to the control panels. From this position he could see the entire room. Of course there were places of concealment here if one were to crawl into the narrow recesses between the consoles and cabinets. But Pucky knew the enemy wasn’t hiding. Moreover, there wasn’t just one but many of them. They were all invisible and in his immediate vicinity.

Now he realized bitterly that he had forgotten his Arkonide combatsuit. With that he could have also made himself invisible by merely turning on the deflector held. Also he would have felt more secure under the protection of its defence screen. But it was too late now for such considerations nor was he thinking in terms of teleporting back to the Caesar. As long as Cadet Wilkovski was down in the launch lock there was simply no retreating.

For a moment he thought of Lt. Germa, who was racing at an incredible speed into the starless void. He would have to fetch him back—later when he had time.

The streams of hostile thoughts became more intense. They were still exuding hate, nothing else—or perhaps also a touch of curiosity. The thought patterns were alien yet Pucky couldn’t rid himself of the notion that he had encountered them somewhere before. His memory was usually excellent but this time it failed him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t recall when or where it had been.

At least not yet!

Close in front of him there was a sudden blue flash. The energy beam emerged from emptiness. It missed him by only a few centimetres but the thermal effect was strong enough to singe his arm. He felt a terrible pain that almost made him blank out. Without thinking he returned the fire, aiming at the exact spot that the shot had come from. At the same time he dropped to the deck in order to concentrate. He had to get out of here or he was done for.

He sensed a note of satisfaction in the hateful thoughts.

When he dropped down he had fallen on his wounded arm, which shot a wave of maddening pain through his body. Scram out of here!—he thought. He saw the objects around him begin to blur and disappear —only to rematerialise again.

He was in a completely empty room. The hostile thoughts were weaker here, more distant. He had escaped—but for how long?

Iltu, he thought, can you hear me?

Pucky! Can I help you?

Her answer came sharply and clearly to him. She must have been in constant contact with him and was probably aware of everything that had happened.

No answer. Had Iltu understood him?

He straightened up and felt of his injured arm. The pain hadn’t lessened but he began to suppress it mentally. Only a burn, he hoped. It wasn’t anything worse but it was very painful.

While he was waiting something suddenly occurred to him that he had not thought of until now. Everything had happened too swiftly for him to fully register his observations but he recalled that he had seen something. When he had shot at the invisible nemesis he must have hit him, judging from 2 impressions he had received. The thought emanations of hate and satisfaction had changed to sudden surge of pain. Secondly he had caught a fleeting glimpse of a shadowy form.

The shadow had appeared only very briefly before disappearing again. The agent from nowhere had been visible for the fraction of a second. The outline had been somewhat humanoid but was so transparent that he had been able to see through it.

Agents from nowhere … ?

Pucky suddenly knew where he had encountered them before. It was that time on the wandering planet of Barkon which was rushing through the starless reaches of the intergalactic gulf on its long course back to the Milky Way. There an attack had occurred. The enemy then had also been immaterial and could only be made visible or could only be destroyed under a concentrated energy fire. They seemed to be thought forms only —invisible and bodiless entities with telepathic abilities but with such alien thought forms that they could not be comprehended. They always made bold and deadly attacks.

No one had known where they came from or where they had fled later because even their ships were invisible. Only a special instrument capable of graphing energy emanations had made them visible—elongated torpedo shapes more than 100 meters in length. They had taken off and disappeared into the infinite depths of intergalactic space.

And now they had returned! Pucky knew that they were the most dangerous entities that humans had ever encountered, especially because they were unknown forms of life. It was as if they lived in a different plane of existence.

The thought patterns became stronger again. They were looking for him. They were getting closer.

Pucky knew he had to avoid teleporting back into the launch lock area where Wilkovski was waiting. It would expose the cadet unnecessarily to danger. But where was Iltu?

The answer came at once: I’m just about ready. Think of your surroundings so that I can find you. Where are you?

Pucky teleported. The hostile thoughts became weaker again. He had landed precisely in the spot he had concentrated on—in the robotship’s observation dome. Naturally the normal equipment was missing here for full observations of the outer void because robots were more instrumentally oriented than visually. But Pucky wasn’t ready for astronomy at the moment.

I’m in the observation dome. Iltu. Same as on board the Caesar. Teleport over here—and hurry!

He waited. Seconds passed.

Once more the mysterious thought impressions were weaker but there was no doubt that the aliens were looking for him. He had vanished before their eyes—or did they have eyes? Even that time on Barkon he had seen that they were not capable of teleporting and that their movements actually were fairly slow. He could always manage to get away from them, again and again—but was that the answer?

Who were these beings who came out of invisible realms and attacked everything that entered the inter-galactic abyss? They apparently didn’t venture into the galaxy itself. Their habitat seemed to be in the vast emptiness between the universes. They were unassailable and represented the greatest menace that the Terrans had been confronted with thus far.

The air shimmered in front of Pucky and then Iltu appeared. She wore her combatsuit and carried a second outfit with her.

"Terrific, girl!" chirped Pucky, and he immediately pulled on the suit over his uniform. Then he picked up his raygun and thrust it into his outer belt. "Turn on your defence screen so that they can’t hurt you. Ow—speaking of hurt … !"

Iltu had helped him with the suit because he could hardly move his left arm. Concernedly, she stroked his sleeve where the wound was located.

"Does it pain you a lot, Pucky?"

He nodded and smiled appreciatively, "Only when I laugh. Ps-s-t! They’re coming again!"

She listened inwardly. "Yes, I’m picking up their thoughts. But how strange they are! It’s just like you were thinking when I was in contact with you. Where do they come from? Who are they?"

"Nobody knows," muttered Pucky, and again he sensed the immediate presence of the sinister intruders. The fact that they had found them here indicated strongly that they were telepathic. "We’ll try to make them visible. Let’s hope our screens will stand up against their weapons."

Iltu nodded bravely. She took up a position next to Pucky with her back to the wall and drew out her beamer. Her normally gentle eyes gleamed venturesomely. It wasn’t supposed to be in her line of duty to—

The blue energy beam flashed not 2 meters away and struck Pucky’s defence screen. It divided there and glanced off of him without doing any damage.

"Fire!" shouted the mousebeaver as he activated his weapon. Iltu complied.

The 2 streams of energy intersected and glanced from an invisible obstruction. Back on Barkon, 3 such beams had been necessary to make the unseen creatures visible. But now it also succeeded with just 2. Of course the effect was not as penetrating or lingering.

The flame-lined outline of the enemy became dimly discernible. His body was resistant enough to reflect the beams of energy. A small onslaught like this couldn’t hurt him but the force of 4 or 5 simultaneous shots could kill him. This Pucky knew from his experience on Barkon.

But nothing more.

The invisible entity assumed a shape for several seconds before it ducked out of harm’s way. The figure was entirely human although no face could be seen. Two arms, a torso, 2 legs—that was all. But it was enough. Judging from that it had to be a material form.

With gun in hand, Pucky sprang forward and tried to grasp the shadow phantom. He clutched at emptiness. His hands encountered no resistance. Evil thoughts streamed into his mind, so filled with hate and rage that he drew back involuntary. Never in his life had he encountered such venomous thoughts.

He sprang back next to Iltu, where his neutralizer field enabled him to join his defence screen with hers. He took her by the hand. "I’ll teleport and take you with me. You don’t have to do a thing."

He jumped—and landed directly in the concentrated blue fire of 6 or 7 energy weapons. Although the mousebeavers’ doubly strengthened screens were able to deflect the deadly beams, their micro-generators were strained to the limit. Pucky was much too flabbergasted to react wisely. He raised his own weapon in order to return the fire.

Then it was Iltu who saved both their lives. Instead of thinking uselessly of a counter-offensive she concentrated on making a short teleport jump. A Fraction of a second before their screens could collapse, the 2 mousebeavers vanished and rematerialised in one of the peripheral corridors of the ship.

"That was close," muttered Pucky, releasing her hand. "Well done, little one!"

Iltu was about to retort something but she decided to remain silent. It was enough that Pucky praised her deed, even though he called her "little one". Perhaps that, too, was a mark of esteem.

"I have to switch over the controls, Iltu. Only then can the boarding crews operation. If the shadows are faster than we are, they’ll rob the ship and we’ll be in a fix. Do you want to wait here or are you coming along?"

The question was unnecessary. Iltu went along.

As far as Pucky could make out, the Control Central was empty. The invisible ones were apparently all engaged in the search for him and Iltu—which could mean that there weren’t very many of them.

The main circuits were in an adjoining room. With a certainty which was surprising even to Pucky, he found the interface capsule behind the proper access panel and removed it. from that moment on the mighty ship was dependent upon the manual operations of living intelligences. Even though there were other independent automatic systems on board, as of this second they had been cut off.

Another jump brought them into the launch chamber where Cadet Wilkovski was still standing, weapon in hand, with his back to the wall.

"Call Col. Sukril!" Pucky ordered, while turning off his defence screen. "Tell him to start the takeover operation—for this ship and the others. We’ll try to divert the shadow spooks. There can’t be many of them."

Cadet Wilkovski passed on this information over his helmet radio and then made a new attempt to open the outer hatch. This time he succeeded. The heavy lock gate swung into its retainer well and the Caesar became visible. There they could see the great hangar locks of the battleship opening up to disgorge a swarm of auxiliary craft and Gazelles which promptly headed for the various robotships.

The actual operation had begun. The die had been cast. As long as the men wore their combatsuits and kept their screens up, they would be relatively safe from the invisible enemy. Moreover, they could defend themselves with concentrated fire from multiple weapons.

But Pucky did not yet realize how greatly he had underestimated the unknown opposition. "Iltu, you stay here," he said. He was watching some of the other robotships in the distance as the boarding commandos opened their locks and entered them. Evidently his switching over this flagship put the rest of them on manual control. "I have something else I have to take care of," he added.

"I’ll go with you!"

"No—you stay here. It’s too dangerous. You aren’t ready yet for real precision jumps. And the distance is too great."

"What are you going to do?"

Pucky looked straight at her. "Look for Germa. He’s our friend."

"Then I’ve got to go with you!"

Pucky remained adamant. "It’s not only the danger of it, Iltu. I have to know I’ve got somebody here I can depend on." He swallowed with difficulty. "I can depend on you, can’t I, girl? Somebody had to stay here to divert the shadow people from the commando crews. It’s a rough job and you’ll have to keep on the jump all the time. Depend on the troops and make sure they use a concentrated fire against the spooks whenever they show up. You’re the only one who can tell when they’re around."

"Alright, Pucky, as you wish. But—I’ll come if anything happens to you."

"I’ll call if I need you," he reassured her. "But don’t forget that you represent me here now. Col. Sukril is depending only on me, not you. He mustn’t see that we’ve switched places. But I can’t leave Germa in the lurch."

She pressed his paw. "You can depend on me." She smiled and revealed her pretty incisor tooth. "Until later. Grandpa."

Pucky was forced to admire her tooth for a moment. Then he raised a threatening finger to her, finally thought better of it—and vanished.

But Iltu had overcome her secret awe of Pucky in that moment. She watched the oncoming transports, which were carrying more than 2000 troops. Her task would be to protect these men.