Perry Rhodan 125 Savior Of The Empire 1/    THE BRAIN MUST DIE! "THE
JUMP! "Please, sir, you should let me make it! This is my kind of job, not
yours!" I waved my hand in a signal of refusal. Ras Tschubai, a teleporter of
the Terran Mutant Corps, had called to me over the helmet phone. He looked at
me once more imploringly and then went out. The energy arc of the matter
transmitter took form. Blue fire streamed up from the twin floor projectors,
turning to a flaming red at the apex of the arc. The thundering of the nuclear
power generator drowned out all other sounds, which had forced Ras to use his
radio. Between the fiery legs of the arc a darkness yawned, representing the
exta-dimensional dematerialising field. I clutched the bomb that was suspended
from my neck. It had been constructed in the atomic laboratories of Terra and
was of a thermonuclear design. Its detonator had a built-in time delay which
would allow me time to get out of the danger zone, if everything went
according to plan. "IF-!" said my logic sector. I had already closed the
helmet of my Arkonide combatsuit. The oxygen supply and the air conditioning
were functioning properly. I was ready except that I could not activate my
defence screen as it would cause interference with the lines of force in the
Akon Transmitter. The Akons! They were the unseen masterminds behind the
galactic stage. Without their help and technology it would be impossible for a
certain treasonous Arkonide to deceive the robot Regent. About 3 months had
passed since my escape. Now I was once more in star cluster M-13 but this
time, instead of being the ruling Imperator, I had come here as a dethroned
outcast. "Full power in 42 seconds," I heard somebody say over the radio and
I recognized Perry Rhodan's voice. He was in the Control Centre of the
Ironduke. The Terran linear-drive ship had emerged but a minute before from
the semispace generated by the Kalup fields. We were within 20 light-years of
the outer defence ring of the Arkon System but could not risk coming any
closer. In fact the robot Brain's fortresses. "It's disgraceful!" I thought
bitterly. "Nonsense!" retorted my extra-brain. "It's a tactical
necessity." The sound of the reactors became deafening. I was alone in the
transmitter room. In the few seconds remaining before the start of "Operation
Last Ditch", as we called it, recent events ran through my mind as in a
fast-moving film. Three months before, a contest between myself and Carba
from the insignificant ancestral House of Minterol had ended in a check-mate
situation but he had been named Imperator Minterol I. Meanwhile the Solar
Secret Service had reported that Carba's reason had been wavering because of
an over-driven brain activation and that he was probably on the brink of a
mental collapse by now. Which was all the more convenient for those who had
used him for seizing power in the Arkonide Imperium. Those masterminds were
the ones who manipulated the robot Regent through this puppet ruler whom the
brain recognized. The vast Positronicon was unable to differentiate between
Carba's voluntary and involuntary commands. In the construction of their
super robot my venerable ancestors had sought to prevent the very situation
which had now developed: the Empire was being taken over by aliens; it was
being split up and divided among various interest factions. It was the end of
a 20,000-year stellar imperium and perhaps it also meant doom for Earthmen.
Rhodan had already performed miracles in the buildup of the Solar Imperium but
he was not a magician. Without the support of the robot fleet, Terran was
lost. From all indications an offensive was being planned, and apparently the
Regent's fleet would not be operating alone. There were only a few intelligent
races who were favourably inclined toward the Terrans, who had become all too
irksome or troublesome to others. Most aliens hated them, in particular the
Galactic Traders, the Aras, the Antis and of late the Akons, who had suffered
the greatest defeat in their history because of Rhodan. My own power was
gone. My alliance with the Earth might have been gratifying to the Terrans but
it was no longer to their advantage. In fact a deposed Arkonide Imperator was
more of a burden than a support to their extra-terrestrial political structure
and policy. Rhodan had been fully aware of my metal and emotional distress.
He had not brought up the question or placed any pressure on me until I myself
had made the proposal to blow up the Regent. It was then that I learned that
Solar Intelligence had already made all the preparations. Once the Brain was
eliminated it would be up to me and the Terrans to save the Imperium. I hardly
dared think of the magnitude of such a task at the moment. The Regent
controlled industry, the entire food and supply administration and the
military might of the Empire. If these controls suddenly vanished it would
cause a catastrophe. However, we had conscientiously asked ourselves if those
revolts and petty wars which would come as a result could be worse than the
present splinterings and divisions caused by the greedy powers of the
galaxy. I had to do it! The criminal augmentation of Carba's intelligence was
leading to destruction. By nefarious means the Regent had been convinced that
Carba's supercharged mind entitled him to the position of Imperator. During
the mental duel, which was carried out on an almost incomprehensible plane of
robot logic, my opponents had been able to "prove" that I had become an
incompetent ruler. They claimed that I had violated the doctrines of our
ancestors by supporting the development of the Terrans, that I had furnished
them with technical secrets and had thus enhanced the advancement of an almost
invincible enemy. The Robot had not understood my real concerns for the
Imperium. It had responded to the ancient catastrophe program "Ephethus",
according to which an Imperator was to be removed immediately as soon as he
was not exclusively concerned with the well-being of the Empire. I had not
succeeded in giving a purely logical proof that the friendship of the alert
and highly intelligent Terrans would be of great benefit to the State. In the
end, Carba had been named Imperator and I had been forced to
escape. "Transmission in 3 seconds," Rhodan announced. "Good Luck,
friend." It shocked me back to the present and I was aware of the stark
reality of the bomb. I would have to ignite it within the inner circuits of
the Regent. "You should have sent a Terran mutant," my logic sector informed
me. Certainly a teleporter would be able to help himself better in a
dangerous emergency. However, this destruction of the most magnificent
creation of my ancestors was strictly my affair. By virtue of my heritage and
my office it was I who must make the attempt to preserve the Imperium. "Very
heroic!" retorted my extra-brain. I ignored it. My synthetically activated
logic sector had little use for sentiment or feelings. Actually it was an
organic computer which transmitted its conclusions or perceptions. But it was
up to to me to either respond to its admonishments or to reject them. The
energy field had thickened visibly and the transmitter arc was high enough to
admit a man. When the violet signal lamp began to flicker I advanced toward
the yawning darkness between the rising legs of the arc. One more step and I
would emerge inside the Brain 20 light-years away. The Terrans had been able
to analyse this Akon technology so that the formerly long-range transmitter no
longer held any secrets for them. I felt the pull of the dematerialising
field. Taking a deep breath I cast aside all thoughts of the pros and cons of
my actions and prepared myself for the "jump". "Stop-get back!" somebody
shouted. "Danger, Atlan! The receiver station's been short-circuited!" I
responded without thinking, as had become my habit in recent years. When a
person is continuously threatened by assassins he develops a 6th sense. Before
I had consciously registered the warning cry I had already leapt back but I
still fell to the deck within a yard or so from the transmitter arc. My heavy
equipment prevented me from moving swiftly. I had to crawl back into the room
until I was beyond the marked-out danger zone and could take shelter behind
the thermal defence screen. The hatch swung open and 2 men rushed in with Ras
Tschubai in the lead. Without a word they snatched me from the transmitter
room and set me on my feet outside. "Are you all right sir?" asked the second
man, who was younger than the African teleporter. I recognised Lt. Brazo
Alkher, one of the backup cadre of officers who would one day have a voice in
the destiny of the Solar Imperium. "Yes, thank you," I answered. "What
happened?" But I had not spoken loudly enough because of the thundering of the
converter, so I repeated the question. Alkher pressed the release button on
my helmet and it glided back onto my shoulders, where it was magnetically
anchored. Ras Tschubai smiles apologetically and relieved me of the bomb. he
seemed to concentrate for a moment and then he disappeared in a bright flash
of shimmering air. It was all happening too fast and my brain refused to
register the events in their proper sequence. Rhodan and the commander put in
an appearance. Jef Claudrin had turned off his micro-grav generator and came
along the passage in mighty strides, just as if there were no gravity at all
on board the Ironduke. Once more I received no answer. They led me away as
though I were a child. Apparently they had recognized my state of confusion as
a form of temporary stupor. In fact I was becoming drowsy by the time Rhodan
brought me into the Control Central and bedded me down on a contour
couch. Here it was more calm and quiet. The humming of the equipment and
instruments was more pacifying than disturbing. I was wondering about my
condition. Normally I should have been fairly agitated under the circumstances
but in this case I could barely move. It was similar to a state of shock. I
had been torn abruptly from a condition of high concentration and weeks of
nervous tension. A medico gave me an injection and after a few moments I felt
more collected and able to move. Perry was squatting beside me, surrounded by
the officers of the Ironduke. I sat up, staring at them, unable to miss Prof.
Kalup's heavy figure in their midst. "Maybe old soldiers never die," he said
ironically, "but you came very close to fading away. Do you happen to know,
sir, that you were already within the range of the dematerialising field? How
did you manage to jump back just in the nick of time like that?" "Instinct,
self-preservation-I don't know... " "Most likely instinct. The transmitter
was short-circuited just as you were about to enter it-which meant that the
other end of the line wasn't able to receive you. Anything going into a mess
like that would have been shuttled back and forth about a hundred thousand
time per microsecond." Rhodan chuckled unconvincingly and clapped me on the
shoulder, hoping to reassure me. "Forget it, friend. We caught it just in
time." However, my thoughts were racing. During the considerable period of my
office as Imperator Gonozal VIII, I had succeeded in setting up a transmitter
station in the subterranean section of the robot Regent. The Brain had never
become suspicious because it was not equipped to detect the equipment's
extra-dimensional forcefield. Moreover the device had been built by Terran
specialists and it contained security circuits which were unknown even to the
Akons. Who had caused it to short circuit? Who would have been capable of
it? A strange sound gripped my attention. It sounded like the whinning of a
hound. Rhodan was staring at a viewscreen which revealed the inner room of the
ship's transmitter station. Within moments the sound became shriller until it
resembled the shrieking of a power-saw. Rhodan was shouting to me. "We've
sent a robot into the field! there-take a look at that!" I jumped up. Once
more my legs seemed to move involuntarily and I realized that I must have
become frightfully pale. The dematerialisation field between the bases of the
energy arc was normally black but at present it was aglow with a greenish
flame. Within it was silhouetted a nebulous shape which appeared to become
more deformed with each passing second. Jefe Claudrin gave an order and the
transmitter was shut off. There was a lightening flash from the armourplate
bulkhead of the sending room and remained fastened to it. When the thunder of
the power pile subsided we were still staring at the viewscreen. The robot had
apparently been compressed to a lump of metal the size of a fist. The
densified mass clung to the steel plate, glowing white hot and seeming to
pulsate like something alive. I couldn't utter a word. Everyone in the
Control Central could well imagine what I would have looked like by now if I
had not jumped back in time. Rhodan cleared his throat but also said
nothing. Kalup wiped his bald head with a handkerchief. "The atomic
regrouping there doesn't seem to be very tidy," he said. "Could you give me an
idea, sir, of what's happened to your transmitter receiver? I thought you had
concealed it." I suppressed my excitement, realizing that this whole thing
had become futile. No one said anything until after I had struggled to express
what was really on my mind. "A good question, Professor! The Regent could
never have found it. Nor could Carba, either. So it meant that somebody must
have penetrated the robot who is familiar with Akon transmitters." "Terran
transmitters," corrected Kalup irritably, "based on the Akon principle." I
shrugged. "Have it your way. I know you and your experts took special pains
with it. Nevertheless the equipment has been discovered and evidently somebody
was able to understand the technology involved. They were waiting for our
sending station to beam out the ready signal and that's when they caused the
short circuit. So it seems I've escaped once again. But how to destroy the
Brain now is a whole new problem." Kalup turned away. I watched his portly
figure until he disappeared through the door to the tracking central. His
gruff tone did not disturb me anymore. I knew it was only an expression of his
choleric nature and that he was not half as formidable as he sounded. Rhodan
was leaning with both hands on a map table. His gaze seemed to bore through
the top of it. Without looking up he made a statement that I could not refute.
"that was the last possibility of attacking the Brain with relative safety or
at least a minimum of risk. Now Akon scientists have penetrated the situation
and they are allowed to do things that we were always prevented from doing.
It's certain that the Regent's basic security circuits have been reprogrammed;
therefore the machine has become a general menace. Our observations indicate
that a large part of the robot fleet has been deployed into the Arkon system.
An open attack would not only be hopeless but it would also threaten the
existence of humanity. And since our mutants can't enter the Brain's interior
it would appear that the tele-transmitter is the only solution." The idea
startled me. The special transmitter was located on board the Fleet flagship.
"It's been proved that the Brain's honeycomb screen is impenetrable," I said.
"The Akons have modernized the defence weapons. Besides that they also have
linear-drive spaceships. What do you have in mind?" He looked at me
cautiously. Jefe Claudrin avoided my gaze. That's when I realized that the
Terrans had been discussing something that I was not aware of as
yet. "Nothing, Atlan. Or at least nothing yet! It would have to depend on
your decision... " "Pertaining to what... ?" "It would require your
agreement to strike Arkon 3 with nuclear fire-it would mean the destruction of
the planet. Wait!" He raised a hand and I checked my angry reaction. "Let me
finish. We're quite aware that the delicate gravitational balance of the three
Arkon worlds would be disturbed. Without the mass of the war planet, the
tri-planet configuration created by your ancestors might fall apart. The
synthetic orbits would be destroyed. The Crystal World of Arkon I and the
industrial planet, Arkon 2, would be ravaged by annihilating earthquakes and
catastrophic floods. To say the least the climatic conditions would undergo a
violent change. This much must be admitted." I turned to go into the tracking
centre, struck to the core by Rhodan's words. "I am against the plan," he
said. When I turned to look at him his face was expressionless. "Thanks for
that," I told him. "It won't work. Billions of Arkonides would be sacrificed.
I might go along with the destruction of Arkon 3 since hardly anyone lives
there. An evacuation would be possible. The Crystal World and #2, however,
must not be disturbed. I haven't given up yet." The armoured hatch opened and
I stepped through. I knew that we had reached out wit's end in the matter.
Rhodan followed me and we came to a stop before the echo screens of the energy
sensor. Jefe Claudrin's voice reached us from the Control Central. He was
ordering an engine warmup. The sudden roaring of the hypersensors did not
come as a surprise to me: I had expected an enemy sighting. Rhodan interpreted
my weary smile correctly. We had come here to destroy the Regent. If it
ceased to exist, Carba's plans would come to nought. The alien power groups
would lose their interest in him. Far more importantly, however, about 100,000
ships of the Arkonide robot fleet would be put out of operation. "If!", said
my logic sector. I ignored the interjection. The Akons had been behind the
revolt of the degenerated Arkonides and now they had reached their goal. The
Regent was acting illogically, which proved that they had been able to
influence it decisively. The sensor mumblings indicated transitions.
Therefore, we were being attacked by the Brain. I hardly paid any attention to
the howl of alarm sirens. The Ironduke was in battle readiness. Within seconds
after the first long-distance sighting, the warship had begun to pick up
speed. As usual in such moments, the commands seemed to come so fast that they
overlapped each other. The off-duty crews were hurrying to their combat
positions. The heavy gun turrets emerged from the hull as if to say that Terra
was not as helpless now as it had been 100 years ago. Following the
hyperspace entry manoeuvre of the detected warships the hypersensors
registered a second set of shockwaves. On the mass-sensor's echo screens
appeared 4 green blips, and seconds later the evaluation came through. The
Terran translight sensor-tracking system worked on the principle of
hypercom-reflex analysis. The equipment could also pick up return echoes from
physical objects in normal space, so the state of the art was no longer
dependent upon tracing energy contrails from the impulse engines of other
vessels. Although the latter technique served to determine range and bearing,
the new features permitted an estimate of the size of the tracked objects as
well. The voice of the O.D rang from the speakers. Presently the Ironduke,
was hurtling into deep space with an acceleration of 600 km per second
squared. "Four superbattleships, Imperium class, in close formation-red
33.467, vertical 7.274. Broadside action-turn about and open fire." I
frowned, realizing that the robot-controlled space giants had unquestionably
received orders to destroy the Ironduke. What astonished me was that our main
positronicon had responded to the open fire without an override. The 4
battleships had emerged from hyperspace at a distance of about 10 million km
and their speed was close to that of light itself. It was ridiculous to assume
we were in effective range for a hit. The distance was also too great for
overtaking a swift opponent. Rhodan did not concern himself with the
invisible energy beams sweeping past us. "Broadside pattern sustaining," came
a voice from tracking. "Lousy, too-excuse me, sir!" I ran to the Control
Central where the bogie blips were more discernible on the larger screens. The
Imperium-class ships were in a braking manoeuvre. Even the Regent would not be
able to handle the complex factors this introduced to the firing coordinate
data. The thunder of our engines made normal communication impossible. I
snatched up a radio helmet, slapped the earphones to my head and switched the
receiver on. And at once I was aware of Rhodan's shouted orders. He was
sitting in the commodore's flight seat while next to him the commander
monitored the navigation and defence controls. "... should give it a try," I
heard Perry say. "Fire when ready!" I looked in surprise at the outboard
monitor as something leapt away from one of the launching domes. It was an
old-fashioned rocket of the type we had used in our fight against the Antis.
For a brief moment its micro-impulse engine flamed brilliantly as it broke
through the reverse-polarity field Iaminations of our defence screens, and
then it vanished. But we could still see a green blip on the energy-sensor
screen. The missile was accelerating at a maximum rate of 800 km per second
squared. It was self-guided, employing 3 different principles which a
robotship would find it difficult to recognize. For thousands of years,
projectiles had not been used as weapon carriers. "Do you think it'll work?"
I asked. "The proof is in the pudding, as they used to say on Earth. We're
working just now with the mass detector. If it's jammed out the energy sensor
will take over. That in turn becomes ineffective if they cut their engines.
Residual radiation is too weak for long-range tracking. The crudest method is
used by the laser-amplified echo-tracer. It starts working when it comes
within range of the return beams reflected from the ships. I don't think
they'll try dampening the echoes. At any rate, the missile will home in on the
leading vessel." I was impressed. These men never hesitated to use any weapon
they had to, from situation to situation, even if it involved such an archaic
device that any other intelligences would have haughtily rejected the thought
of employing it. The robotships were still firing at us. Their courses were
approaching ours although they had broken up their formation. Before we
penetrated into the Kalup-generated semispace zone, tracking announced a
massive energy burst at a range of 8 million km. One of the echo blips
disappeared and in its place appeared a glowing orange-red fleck of
light. "Approximately 40,000 megatons," announced the duty officer in the
tracking centre. "A dead hit-total destruction. Their nuclear fuel helped
amplify the chain reaction." Rhodan leaned back in his seat while I fairly
trembled in reaction. Had the Regent become so sloppy that its ships could be
destroyed by a primitive nuclear projectile? I myself could have figured out
at least 10 different ways of handling the clearly detectable rocket, either
by weapons fire or by outmanoeuvring it. I avoided Rhodan's gaze. The howling
of the compensating converter died away. The star-strewn firmament of the
normal void disappeared from the viewscreens and once more I was captivated by
the phenomenon of translight linear flight. Rhodan's voice rang in my
headphones. "The Brain is at the end of its rope. I wouldn't have thought I
could hit an Imperium-class battleship this way, much less destroy it. It's
time to wipe out that machine. It's a source of growing disaster. Within a few
months the galaxy will be in an uproar and by that time Carba will probably
have gone mad. From then on the Akons will try to tighten the reins, whereas
at present they still have to move cautiously. Can you imagine what will
happen when they have a free hand?" I nodded dejectedly. Yes, I could well
imagine. Even though these 4 robotships had acted erratically the Terran fleet
could not hold out against 100,000 of them. The Springer fleet units would
also penetrate into the Sol System, in addition to the ships of countless
colonial races who would still be in support of the Arkonide Imperium as ever
before. In spite of this, however, I still believed that I could shut off the
Regent. In our case the mammoth Brain was the sword with which the Gordian
knot could be cut. 2/ A "GHOST" OF A CHANCE I was prepared for many
surprises from the "Little Man", as everyone called the slightly built Chief
of Solar Intelligence, but this time the Solar Marshal had proposed the
craziest plan I had ever heard of. With their advancing technology the
Terrans appeared to have a penchant for trying the impossible. I had known the
human race for 10,000 years. They had always shown themselves to be
intelligent, resolute and frighteningly acquisitive when it came to knowledge.
These were characteristics which had caused me some apprehension as a former
Arkonide admiral. In those days when I first set foot on Earth, in view of my
training, my rank and my Arkonide outlook I had pondered at length how I was
to compose my field report. I had been inclined to inform those who might
follow me that here on an insignificant world in the 10-planet system of Sol a
race was developing that would bear watching. Now the Terrans had become a
major power. They were fighting for their life which was something that could
not be avoided ever since their official emergence into the political
macrocosmos of the galaxy. A significant figure in the Rhodan game of
recognition, expansion and swift retaliation was Allan D. Mercant, a
semi-mutant with slight telepathic capabilities and the brain of a genius. He
had formerly been chief of NATO intelligence and Rhodan was indebted to him.
for the fact that the "New Power", founded toward the end of the 20th century,
had not suffered still greater difficulties than it had been forced to
face. Mercant's "hobby", as he called it, was secret service and espionage
activity. To my way of thinking the work of such an organization was of course
indispensable although not always neat and clean. While orchestrating such
instruments, no intelligence chief can avoid an occasional sour note or
discord. We had landed 2 days ago in Terrania. The city had increased still
more in size and modernity. Even Rhodan did not know exactly how many
inhabitants were in Terrania. In response to Mercant's invitation we had
gathered together in the conference chamber of Defence-Intelligence
Headquarters. The security measures were sobering if not alarming. In addition
to robot guards, soundproof walls and the unobtrusive presence of mutants, the
small briefing hall was enclosed in a protective energy field. Here there was
no "officious" atmosphere, however, no horse-shoe shaped green-top tables. We
sat unrestrainedly beside each other as if at a social gathering, placed at
our ease by an awareness that no one could eavesdrop on our conversation. The
most important leaders of the Solar Imperium were present. I noted that there
wasn't a man among them who had not received the life-prolonging cell-shower
treatment. Even Homer G. Adams, the powerful but never conspicuous Chief of
the solar GCC, had put in an appearance. GCC-General Cosmic Corporation- was
conceived in a century that hardly knew anything about manned spaceflight
until Rhodan flew to the moon. That had been the beginning of a cosmic gamble
whose most important phase had now been reached. I continued to take count of
the notables present. Solar Marshals Mercant and Freyt were in attendance as
well as generals Deringhouse and Kosnov. Rhodan of course was there, as well
as Reginald Bell in the capacity of Defence Minister, in addition to leading
scientists and other men I had only heard about but had never met
personally. A man who was veiled in considerable mystery was Col. Nike
Quinto, a chief of one of the Intelligence Department's divisions. It was said
of him that he was a master of secretive operations. Unquestionably Mercant's
wild idea had come partially from Quinto, who sat perspiring in a corner and
informed anyone who cared to listen about his imagined illnesses. So I found
myself in the midst of a task team which was capable of shaking the galaxy
itself. Here was Homer G. Adams with his GCC, whose financial power was such
that his signature alone could authorize a subsidy amount of up to 500 billion
Solars. And there was Mercant with his unfathomable Security and Intelligence
resources, plus of course Rhodan himself and his whole Solar Fleet, the actual
strength of which he had never divulged. For several minutes a tense silence
had fallen upon the room. Mercant's proposal had sounded too incredible. Even
Rhodan seemed perplexed. "My friend-are you sure you're sober?" he
asked. Mercant glanced at Quinto. I knew that courteous smile of the
Intelligence Chief. I had never known a dangerous man with such a harmless
appearance. "With your permission-I am quite in possession of my faculties,"
he replied. Rhodan seemed to stiffen as if a cold shock had run through him.
In fact I too could feel cold perspiration starting down my back. "Mercant-but
that's insane!" he protested. Yet at the same time I was surprised to detect
a fire of enthusiasm rising within me. Mercant, shrewd psychologist that he
was, winked at me knowingly. He seemed to interpret the gleam in my eye
correctly. "Now there are two of us who have rocked off," observed
Bell. "How is that?" interjected Prof. Kalup in his loud voice. "I find
myself fascinated." Rhodan chuckled dryly. "Seems to be quite a difference of
opinion here. Quinto, are you the one who suggested this audacious idea to our
Chief of Intelligence?" Nike Quinto stirred his short, rounded figure and
puffed out his cheeks. "Sir, in view of my high blood pressure I'd never
permit myself to agitate my superiors because that only develops other
difficulties for me. However, since my blood pressure at present isn't up to
its usual-" "If we're lucky you'll explode on us one of these days," grumbled
Kalup. His fat cheeks trembled visibly. Quinto feigned offence but finally
smiled. It helped me to find my inner calm again. When Rhodan looked at me I
discovered that same old expression in his features which he had always
displayed at the inception of a daring venture. "Well, old pirate?" I said to
him. "I see you're getting the itch, right?" He laughed. We understood each
other. "Well, that puts it together," commented Bell sarcastically. "Two nuts
at the highest level-if Your 'Retired' Excellence will forgive me... " When
he bowed mockingly I began to feel impatient. Turning to Mercant, I inquired
without preamble: "Have you made a thorough analysis of the data I gave you?
You know that the slightest mistake can be fatal for all of us, granting that
your plan even gets off the ground." The marshal made a sign to Quinto and
the chief of the so-called "Brain Trust"-otherwise referred to as Division
3-got up from his chair with a grunt of exertion. He acted as if it were
hazardous for him to place both feet on the floor at the same time, yet he
manoeuvred himself quite agilely to the control console. The seat creaked
audibly under his weight when he sat down at the panel. The snap of a switch
was heard. The lights in the windowless room were darkened. A wall-sized
viewscreen brightened with the 3-D colour image of a spaceship. I sprang to
my feet, clinging with both hands to the table before me. I stared in utter
amazement. This could not be real unless the Terrans had become
magicians! "Mercant... !" I groaned aloud. "Take it easy, will you? Even
Arkonides can only stand so much shock treatment!" "You are looking at
reality, sir. This film was taken early today. You are looking at His Highness
Tutmor VI's heavy cruiser Soralo, commanded by Capt. Tresta of the
distinguished House of Efelith. On the 10th of February of 2106 it will be
exactly 6023 years since a hypercom message from the Soralo reached the
Supreme Council of Arkon. The news was so important that it was brought to the
attention of the ruling Imperator at that time, Tutmor VI. In the nebula
sector, Capt. Tresta had succeeded in simultaneously liberating two worlds
from the enemy-but in the process his cruiser was destroyed. The Soralo, never
returned to Arkon. Capt. Tresta went down in the history of his people as a
hero, sir." "The spaceship you see has been converted by using every branch
of technology and science available to us while sparing no expense, and now it
resembles the old Sotala down to the last detail. Nothing was overlooked. That
is guaranteed by Solar Intelligence. During the conversion many details had to
be considered. The outer hull had to be reduced in its measurements by 189
meters. The modern full-scale positronicon had to be replaced by the kind that
was in use at that time. Engines, power plants, weapons, power circuits and
conduits, the computer central, officers' and crew quarters-all this and about
10,000 other details had to be copied. Even the propulsion rating of the
original engines was simulated. Any Arkonide technologist from the time of
Imperator Tutmor VI could go over the ship to his heart's content and not
discover the slightest difference from the original. We thoroughly
familiarized ourselves with the construction plans that we found in the
microfilms you salvaged." I trembled almost feverishly. My extra-brain came
to life, activating my photographic memory. I knew how my ancestors had built
their ships. Like one hypnotized I walked up to the viewscreen and began to
inspect the vessel. The name Sotala had been painted in 2 places on the
spherical hull in Arkonide letters. Here the same flaming red had been used as
was employed then. "The composition of the colour is correct," commented
Mercant, just as casually as if he were chatting about the weather. To me it
was almost frightening. The Terrans were masters of camouflage but here
Mercant had outdone himself. The sharply wedge-shaped engine ring bulge was
typical of the Sotala class. The personnel airlocks were hexagonal-also
correct! The lower sections of the landing struts also had the typical bulges
containing the auxiliary hydraulic units. The gun turrets displayed their
sensor antennas for individual precision firing. In those days they had not
relied completely on remote control from the fire command central. I looked
closely at every last detail but couldn't find an error. "Does the inside of
the ship look like this, Mercant? I mean-copied to such a degree of
exactness?" "You have my word for it, sir," Quinto assured me. So he had been
involved with this, after all. "A real counterfeiter," observed Kalup.
"Nevertheless-my compliments!" My mind was fairly swimming as I went back to
my form chair and sat down. The cell activator hanging on my chest was pulsing
louder than usual, reminding me once again of my extreme age. Under my present
state of excitement it was evident that some extra cell-regeneration was
necessary. Rhodan handed me a refreshment. "Satisfied?" he asked. "No
defects?" "None," I confessed. "Of course I'd still have to take a look at
the inside. Mercant-what's it all add up to?" So far the Intelligence Chief
had done very little explaining but we had already been flabbergasted by this
plan, which had to do with "time-line alteration for penetration into the
brain". What followed now caused me to hold my breath occasionally. Mercant
remained quietly objective. He did not even raise his voice when he came to
particularly spectacular and vital points of his exposition. In fact his
telegraphic style of delivery made it almost too impersona!-yet for that very
reason the whole thing sounded extremely impressive. At no time did we have
the impression of listening to a visionary. "After transmitting her victory
message the Sotala was not heard from again. Later reports from Arkonide Fleet
Headquarters confirm that the cruiser was destroyed. So we are taking over the
role of the Sotala and will return to the Arkon System 3 days after the
reception of its last known message. Atlan is to play the part of the
commander. We have also provided uniforms, all types of documents and
credentials-even provisions in the form of dehydrated foods and conserves,
such as were used at the time. The munitions supplies correspond to the number
series issued by the ordnance chief of 'Base T-187'. Nothing is missing,
gentlemen. Even the manufacturer's mark inside the collars of the combatsuits
will be found to coincide with the facts. The Arkonides were very thorough and
all the old data are completely at our disposal. When you land on Arkon 3 you
will be the crew of the Sotala. There are no margins of error." "Land, did
you say?" Rhodan emphasized the word deliberately. "When? Don't tell me that
this talk about 'time-line alterations' is tied in to that"! "It is the basic
condition necessary to the success of the plan, sir," replied Mercant, as
pleasantly as before. "The conversion of a Terran cruiser and transforming the
crew into Arkonides of the time of Tutmor VI could only make sense if we can
succeed in penetrating the corresponding historical epoch." "I can't believe
it!" I exclaimed. "But it's true, sir. I recall the attack on the robot
Regent shortly after the discovery of the planet Sphynx. At that time an
attempt was made to alter the lines of time. The phantom fleet started to
attack the Earth until we succeeded in destroying the converter equipment. A
second machine of this type is located on the central world of the
Akons." "Time displacement?" asked Rhodan, leaning forward. "In a way, sir.
Certainly not time travel in the tradition of your fantasy tales. The device
generates a 5th dimensional absorption field in which relative phases of
'time' can be altered. It is impossible to actually leave one's own time
reference and live somewhere else. One can't just travel about as he pleases
and act the part of the visitor from the future. However, the narrow radius of
action this offers us should be sufficient for our purpose." Kalup went into
some of the technical aspects. The principle involved was understandable even
though no one could explain how the Akons had influenced the present lines of
time.Mercant waited patiently. The conference gradually took on the semblance
of a casual gathering, breaking down into separate discussion groups.
Everybody came to attention again when Rhodan sought to bring the meeting to
order. "Continue your presentation, Mercant. We're just about ready for
anything by now." "Thank you, sir. We have learned that the machine is
stationary. It would have to be transported in a spaceship and transferred in
outer space to the converted cruiser... The converter's operating crew is
known to us. It consists of 4 Akon scientists who are still able to operate
the equipment. But they aren't capable of handling repairs in case of a
breakdown. The secret construction details have been lost. However, there is
no particular danger involved in case of equipment failure. No one can be cut
off in another period of time. As soon as the energy held collapses,
everything becomes stabilized again. Our commando force on Sphynx has already
been instructed to keep the 4 Akons under surveillance. The mutants will make
sure that these men will be in the vicinity of the converter at the proper
time. The device is kept in a museum but any practical use of it is forbidden,
subject to punishment by death. Only experiments under government control are
permitted. And that gives us our point of attack, through the 4 Akon
scientists. You must acquire the machine and get it installed in the simulated
Sotala. Once you are in the Arkon System the time-field is to be activated.
The phasing has to be very exact. Once you have picked up and registered the
famous hypercom message of the original Sotala you will be able to make a
vernier time-line adjustment. Wait 2 days and then announce your victorious
return over local telecom. It's certain that the genuine cruiser won't be able
to cause you any trouble. By the time you will have made your landing, the old
Sotala will have already been destroyed" I almost forgot to breathe. Mercant
had to be insane. Of course a virtual trip through time was equally crazy but
even this idea of a time-displacement field presented problems that neither
the Terrans nor myself would be able to resolve. The ancient science of Akon
had left a machine behind that no one really understood anymore. Just the
operation of the controls alone would be a gamble which could neither
guarantee a trouble-free performance nor any security at all for our task
force. On top of these difficulties we had to face the problem of stealing
the machine along with the 4 scientists. No doubt the latter had learned more
or less which switches to activate, as a result of years of experimenting, in
order to achieve this or that effect but this was still not in the realm of
professional operation. I couldn't even imagine what effect a rephasing of
time would have on us. If we should actually manage to land on Arkon 3, 6023
years prior to present time, we would still be energy components of our own
temporal plane or epoch. Mercant had admitted that it was impossible to
achieve a stable entry into the era of Tutmor VI. The plan was
senseless. Mercant's voice pulled me out of my stupor. It was evident from
his concluding remarks that the scientists of the Intelligence staff were
aware of the difficulties. "At the maximum output of the converter the
effective range of the phasing field is about 200 km. No one should venture
more than 100 km from the generator. Granted, that's a tight squeeze.
Everything will depend on landing the false Sotala as close as possible to the
Brain. At that time the Regent's last sections were being completed and there
wasn't any defence screen. You will have to use your ingenuity, with the help
of the mutants, to get into the lower labyrinths and conceal a nuclear bomb in
such a manner as to prevent its subsequent discovery. The weapon has a
time-fuse based on a Uranium clocking device. Exactly 6023 years later the
fusion process will be activated. That will be on February 15, which is a few
days from now." Rhodan got to his feet. He thrust his hands into the pockets
of his uniform, walked over to the film projector and came to a stop.
"Mercant, this time you're going too far out on a limb. If the bomb is to
detonate on the 15th of February, that means theoretically that it's already
located somewhere inside the Brain." "A relativistic conclusion," interjected
Kalup. "It shouldn't be but it can be! The function of the Akon device is an
unknown factor." "Professor, I believe I have a fair reasoning faculty but
you've lost me somewhere." "Me, too, sir," Mercant admitted. "Nevertheless
the attempt should be made. I don't see any other possibility of destroying
the Brain. Recent events have proved how dangerous the Robot has become
because of a reprogramming of its most vital circuits and installations.
Members of the Akon Energy Command were detected in the security section. It
would have been possible to capture the 8 scientists of that team if the Brain
hadn't jumped the gun, so to speak, and opened fire. Atlan couldn't use his
transmitter, and to use our most powerful weapon would mean the destruction of
the Arkon System. Nor can mutants get through the modernized honeycomb screen.
So I'm asking you-show are you going to ward off this menacing
situation?" Quinto spoke up. "Division 3 is of the opinion that something
must be risked. Unusual situations require unusual methods. We've worked out a
plan of action and it tells us what we have to do. You will be able to contact
the greatest Arkonide scientist, the great councillor Epetran. He died 8 years
later. Perhaps Epetran can be influenced to reprogram the robot Brain-fresh
from the start." "Nonsense!" retorted Rhodan. "If that were possible the
Robot would be acting differently now!" I had to agree with him. "That's hard
to say. The present situation indicates everything and nothing. We still can't
tell whether or not you've been back 6023 years or not, or whether you then
reached the Brain. We would have to wait for February 15 to determine
that." "Then let's wait!" I cried out in desperation. Mercant made a gesture
of rejection. Suddenly he seemed to be very resolute. "Impossible, Your
Eminence. You would miss the precise point in time. It was on the 10th of
February, 6023 years ago, that the hypercom message was received from the
Sotala. Her commander received orders to return home immediately. So the
arrival in the Arkon System would have to be 2 days later, which would be
February 12th by Earth reckoning. Of course you will have the conversion
tables with the Arkonide units of time to go by. You will have 2 or maybe 21/2
days at the most to conceal the bomb-or to influence the chief builder,
Epetran, to build in some security circuits that will satisfy our requirements
in the present. Otherwise the bomb must explode on the 15th of February. So if
you miss the decisive moment there will no longer be any chance of landing you
on Arkon in the bra of Imperator Tutmor VI. That the Sotala sent a victory
message but failed to return is a very unique circumstance. There is no other
spaceship you can copy." "Why so? Thousands of Arkon ships were destroyed in
the battles of that time." "Of course, sir, but within the few days that are
important to us, this only applies to the Sotala." My extra-brain interceded.
Mercant had made a mistake in his reasoning. When I stood up, Rhodan looked at
me questioningly. "Mercant, you know how long it will take to program the
robot fleet. An attack is imminent but it isn't going to happen tomorrow or
even in the next 3 weeks. So I ask you: why should the 15th of February, the
cruiser Sotala and all these other things be so critical and decisive? Also
you know that the Akon converter enables us to alter time. If we started this
operation later we could Still follow the necessary schedule." I believed I
had given a logical argument but I was wrong. These Terrans could
think! "Certainly you could start 4 weeks from now and Still reach the right
moment in time, sir. That still means the 12th of February for your landing on
Arkon 3. This cannot be changed by any machine. But to make the plan work, the
Sotala would have to be used and none other." "I don't understand." "Sir,
during those specific days, 6023 years ago, the last controls of the Regent
were being completed. If you arrive only a short time after that, the
honeycomb screen will be there. So you have to select a time for your landing
that is prior to the activation of the screen and which coincides with the
arrival of the Sotala. The loss of that ship was a fortunate coincidence for
us. As for the 15th of February, that is an arbitrary point that was
determined by mathematics-pertaining to the Uranium timing device of the bomb.
It was quite a problem to calculate the exact detonation time, based on the
half-life rate of radioactive decay. Why should we alter that and have to
start all over again? You would still be able to steal the Akon machine and
begin your operations-but there is no getting around the schedule of the
Sotala." I felt that I had been taught a lesson by the Security Chief-but he
was right! If the honeycomb screen was activated only a few days later, any
delay in our schedule would be catastrophic. The Terrans had thought of
everything. Rhodan went back to his seat and I also sat down again. We looked
at each other searchingly. The room became silent. When I finally nodded to
him he seemed visibly to be relieved. "Mr. Mercant, run the film through
again. We want to take a look at the interior of the cruiser." I was filled
with new courage. Rhodan had decided. The operation was "go". My extra-brain
prodded me mentally but I couldn't quite make out the signal. It was probably
calling me a fool. The image of the Sotala appeared again on the screen just
as Reginald Bell remarked resignedly: "Ever since the start of the New Power
I've seen everything but this is the zaniest operation I've been involved
in!" "Wrong!" Rhodan corrected him. "You will take command of the Fleet and
wait until the Regent is destroyed. When that happens, you will begin
immediately to capture the Brain's robotships, which will have become
helpless." "What... ?" "That's right, you are to begin with the task without
delay, once the Regent's control has been eliminated. We have the advantage of
knowing that something is going to happen. Before other intelligences realize
how easy it is to take over the valuable ships of the Regent's fleet, we will
have had to beat them to it. It's your task right now to find out where the
larger formations can be located. They will be the first to be taken over. The
lone wolves way out in deep space will have their turn later. Mercant-switch
reels. I want to see the inside of the cruiser. I finally felt relaxed. The
die was cast. Rhodan had begun to take over with his usual drive. He was
already thinking of things that hadn't occurred to me yet at the moment.
Naturally, if the Brain should be destroyed, about 100,000 warships would be
incapacitated. Unless we acted first, anybody would be able to take them in
tow without resistance. "If!" said my logic sector again. I lost track of
how many times it had used this word in recent days. Two hours later the
towering buildings that housed. the facilities of Solar Defence and
Intelligence were like one big madhouse. Rhodan was too busy to be reached. He
sat in a control room surrounded by at least 50 communicators. Next door to
him the Fleet's General Staff was in session. I felt lost in all this hustle
and bustle, which was only possible on Terra. A small but tremendously
energetic stellar empire was preparing to strike a major blow. A way had been
found to achieve the objective, consequently that way was followed. This was
what I admired about these Terrans. Once they made a decision they never gave
up until they had reached their goal. I withdrew to my quarters. Almost
hourly I was contacted by videophone for information. They wanted to know even
the social status of an Arkonide captain of the rank I was to portray. A
uniform tailor from Intelligence wanted my exact measurements. Weapons experts
wanted to know if officers of the Arkonide fleet in those days were permitted
to carry beautifully engraved private sidearms. For 2 whole days I was busy
trying to satisfy the Terrans' thirst for knowledge. But I became increasingly
impressed with the feeling that I was dealing with realists rather than
visionaries. These men were experts and specialists who considered details
which ordinarily wouldn't have been thought of. Then at last I fell to
waiting again. However, I avoided any attempt to influence Rhodan's decisions
with any advice of my own. There was still time for that should anything occur
to me that might be significant. 3/ THEFT OF THE EPOTRON Event was heaped
upon event until it was time to go. We were accompanied by the simulated
Sotala as we took off in the Ironduke to pay the Ruling Council of Akon an
official "courtesy call". The deputy commander of the Arkonide cruiser was
Maj. Heintz, a cosmonautics expert from Solar Intelligence. His crew consisted
of 750 men as was the custom on heavy cruisers of the Imperium. In those days
we still had sufficient manpower because the degeneration of the ruling race
had only just begun. It was only later that I and Rhodan were to transfer to
the cruiser along with Jefe Claudrin and several other staff officers from the
Ironduke. Our special equipment was already on board the Sotala, such as our
uniforms, documents, weapons and whatever went with them. The Ironduke
proceeded in direct linear flight to the near centre of the galaxy where we
sent out a message to the Ruling Council. The giant blue sun of Akon, whose
5th planet was the home world of the Akons, had already illuminated our
viewscreens when the answering dispatch was received. Within 10 hours
Claudrin started his braking manoeuvres and once more I had an opportunity to
admire the beauty of Akon 5. Rhodan had named it Sphynx although the natives
referred to it as Drorah. The reception by several delegates from the Council
had been noticeably cool. We were happy to withdraw to the Terran commercial
base where almost all the members of the Mutant Corps had assembled. Two days
were taken up with festivities and inspection tours. The Akons had no choice
but to show a proper amount of attentiveness to the ruling chief of the Solar
Imperium but at the same time it became increasingly evident that the members
of the Ruling Council were supporters of the Arkonide rebels. They had given
me to understand that my presence on Sphynx could be tolerated for the moment
but that it would be in the best interests of their relationship with the new
Imperator for me to cut my visit short. The radio monitoring station at our
base had intercepted several hypercom dispatches and decoded them. My
successor, Minterol I, was advised that my appearance on Sphynx was
unfortunately something that could not very well be hindered, inasmuch as I
was in the "retinue" of the Terrans' Chief of State. I was no longer
concerned about what they thought of me or what conclusions they might draw. I
knew that the Zorab was waiting for us at a distance of 10,000 light-years in
an almost unknown sector of space. All that remained was for us to steal the
time converter. The mutants had made all the necessary preparations. Rhodan
had just returned an hour before from another reception and now he was
relaxing in a contour chair while he listened to a report from Corps Chief
John Marshall. Mousebeaver Pucky had gone on a mission with the mutant Kitai
Ishibashi, by means of teleportation. It was the latter's assignment to
"prepare" the 4 Akon scientists. Ishibashi's talent enabled him to use a kind
of remote hypnosis to force his will upon other individuals. The resulting
mental block or suggestion was hardly noticeable but of long duration. To this
extent everything had been done to enable us to "appropriate" the secret
device. However, a few problematical items still had to be clarified. The
so-called trading settlement was actually a modern and fully equipped base for
Solar Intelligence. On the viewscreens the structures of the main spaceport of
Sphynx were discernible. After Perry Rhodan's discovery of the Blue System the
Akons had been forced to take up space flight again. Now as before, however,
they still managed their interstellar traffic by means of gigantic matter
transmitters, although these were not adequate in a military sense. It had not
been too difficult for Rhodan and the Terran Fleet to overcome the system's
defences-after due provocation-and to destroy the satellite power stations.
After that the system-wide blue defence screen had ceased to exist. The Akons
had clearly recognized the fact that in spite of their perfected transport
technology they would not be able to have any role in galactic affairs unless
they built up their space travel once more. Doubtlessly they wouldn't have
been so peaceful if they had been able to call in 10,000 warships to their
aid. The Terrans were considered to be intruders. I well knew their opinion of
me, the former ruler of a rebellious colonial race. By Akon values the
Arkonides were degenerate savages, comparable to galactic vermin, undeserving
of notice. It was calm and peaceful at the city's new spaceport. There were
no robotships of the Regent's fleet to be seen. Merchant ships of other races
were not allowed to land. The Akons maintained a zealous surveillance of their
zone of influence which included an unknown number of colonial worlds. All
such planets were contacted and supplied exclusively with the help of the
giant transmitters. They had set up a communications system which had
functioned well until Rhodan discovered the Blue System. He had startled the
Akons out of their calm complacency and now we were feeling the effects of it.
The Terran agents had informed us that the Ruling Council maintained relations
with the rebels on Arkon. A few months before this, that fact had been denied,
but meanwhile conditions had changed. Rhodan had followed my gaze and become
pensive. "It looks quite deserted out there. In a few years it will be
swarming with spaceships of every type and description. The Akon ship-building
industry will soon be on its way. Considering the high state of science and
technology here I'd say we can expect to see some pretty sensational
products." "We won't have to wait for that, sir," interjected Marshall. "They
are already setting their trap for us. Imperator Minterol has been officially
recognized. Of course they know he's only a shadow figure. Our latest
investigations have revealed that the Akon government has sent scientific
teams to Arkon. Guerilla actions have come to a stop. Within a few months the
Regent will be so completely reprogrammed that it will be nothing more than a
super computer, stripped of all command functions. This will enable the Akons
to become the first nation in the galaxy. They are already making preparations
for taking over the Regent's fleet. The new shipyards represent a heavy
expenditure but their chief purpose is to convert the robotships. Things are
getting serious, sir." Rhodan got to his feet. Bordering the territorial
region of the Terran settlement the gleaming force lines of the energy screen
could be seen. Our hypersensors were reacting continuously. The Akon
long-range transmitters were functioning again. "They're sending crews to
Arkon and the Brain is allowing it," remarked Rhodan. "Well, John, what have
you accomplished? 'Operation Last Ditch' is becoming critical." I observed
the Ironduke with interest. It was parked in the port sector, which still
belonged to the Terran sphere of influence. Jefe Claudrin and the crew were on
board. The big warship was in battle readiness. There was still no space
vessel on the planets of the Blue System that could have offered it any
resistance. The few smaller spaceships of the Akon Energy Command had been
destroyed in December of 2102. At that time we knew that the Akons would not
take such a blow lying down. On the other hand we had counted on a breathing
space of at least 30 years. Even with the Akon state of technology a major
fleet-building program could not be realized earlier. But now thanks to my
rebellious countrymen they had found a better way. The Imperium possessed
about 100,000 modern robot units which could be quickly converted for human
crews. It was a diabolical plan which was characteristic of the
Akons. Marshall's strategic report was brief. All that was still necessary
was to tie down the final details. "The time converter is located at Impton.
Akon pride in the accomplishments of their ancestors has led to the erection
of a museum city which is called Impton in honour of a famous physicist. The
device is cubical and measures 8.3 meters on each side. It rests on a platform
that is 5 meters high, which contains the power plant. The latter consists of
high-powered reactors of an alien design. A fusion principle is used in it
which could not be simulated by present-day Akon scientists. Its power
capacity is an unknown factor but we estimate it to be about 50 million
kw." I was impressed. Such power outputs were not unusual, in fact quite
commonplace on board the major spaceships, but in such a relatively small
machine this was enormous. "The museum town is closed off by energy barriers
and the air space is closely monitored. The only way to take the machine is by
putting it to work. That is, the mutants will have to get in unobserved and
turn it off. The museum complex was built around 3000 years ago, so we'll have
to go back about 4000 years where we'll probably be in an open area. We'll
have to bring antigrav transporters with us. In the converter field we'll be
able to move the time-phaser to the place where 4000 years later the Terran
trading base is located. That way we'll have the machine right here. The
museum was to be destroyed by means of a nuclear explosion-which will help to
explain the sudden disappearance of the time converter." "How will it be
accomplished?" asked Rhodan. "A special commando detail is standing by. For
several days now the Akon service posts have been informed that unknown agents
have been wanting to get into Impton to study the products of the ancient
Akons. Moreover, according to local security officials, the Terrans are
suspected of having something to do with it." "No wonder!" I muttered aloud
to myself. Rhodan chuckled. After checking his watch, Marshall continued.
"The scientists who are familiar with the operation of the time-converter will
arrive punctually. Kitai is already at work on them. And that's about it,
sir." I looked about me. The tracking room looked like a military encampment
except that the warriors present were not carrying swords and spears. They
were equipped with the most modern energy weapons in the Milky Way. I wore a
Terran uniform and my white-blond Arkonide hair was concealed by a radio
helmet. The best experts of Terra were poised on the threshold of a mission
which could decide the fate of the Solar System. It was beginning to get
dark. The blue sun of the system sank behind the horizon. The dense maze of
stars here in the centre of the galaxy appeared so suddenly that it seemed an
invisible hand had raised a cosmic curtain. "Synchronize your watches," said
Rhodan. "The scientists will arrive in 2 hours." My extra-brain was bothering
me again. Undoubtedly the men here had worked very thoroughly but nevertheless
I was apprehensive. The whole plan was somewhat too bold, especially since
nobody could say what the effects of a time-displacement would be. Even if
everything succeeded, could the theft off the machine be covered by an
explosion so cleverly that no one would guess the truth? I learned later that
I had underestimated Mercant once more. This man knew how to play a double
game behind the scenes. It had been an ingenious idea to inform the Akon
defence posts of the activity of the Terran agents. .    .   .   . The
commando detail consisted of 20 men who were led by the telepath John
Marshall. Rhodan and I were the last to make the jump. Our teleporters were
Pucky and Tako Kakuta. The gravity neutralizer had already gone ahead of us.
The combined powers of 3 teleporters had been necessary to bring it to the
museum city. We were wearing Terran combat suits which had been designed
after the Arkonide pattern except that the Earthmen had built in some
improvements. For example the deflector screens were no longer detectable by
instruments because the energy radiations were damped by special
absorbers. Pucky was looking at me with his loyal hound-dog eyes. "Are you
nervous?" he asked in his shrill little voice. "What else would he be?"
Rhodan cut in, sounding more harsh than he intended. The little fellow
wrinkled his mouselike snout in an obvious expression of injury. "Why is
everybody so uptight? We got here safely, didn't we? Sure the Akons have set
up extra guard details and they even have snooper gadgets at every entrance
but there are a thousand rooms alone in the physical section of the museum.
They can't all be watched at once, you know." "How about the room where the
converter is located? Is that strongly guarded?" "No more and no less than
others. They probably think we wouldn't know what to do with the machine if we
had it." "They'll soon change their minds about that," commented Rhodan. "Are
you ready, Atlan?" I nodded and bent down to take up Pucky into my arms. He
wore a custom-made combatsuit that even accommodated his tail. The little
fellow patted my nose. We understood each other. Moments later came the
sensation of dematerialisation. It was the same as ever. Before I could fully
register the pulling pain of teleportation I arrived at my destination.
Automatically I turned on my deflector field and the micro-reactor responded
soundlessly. Pucky still clung to me but he was the only living thing I could
see at the moment. The other men of the commando detail who were present were
already under the protection of their screens. They were invisible. My pulse
raced almost audibly. In this empty- seeming stillness the weapon in my hand
appeared a bit ludicrous. I holstered it and looked around. We had landed in a
giant hall that was filled with machinery and equipment that was strange to
me. However, all items were provided with nameplates in ancient Arkonide,
explaining what each had been used for. "Use your absorption filter,"
whispered Pucky. I reached up to my helmet and swung down the special viewing
device. Without affecting normal vision it eliminated the optical effects of
the deflector screens. Now I could see the other men who had deployed
themselves in a semi-circle in front of an arched doorway. I carefully placed
Pucky on the floor. Ras Tschubai and the third teleporter of the Corps, Tako
Kakuta, were beckoning to us. Rhodan moved silently to Marshall, who was
standing by an oblong machine. We communicated only by signs and gestures. As
for our mutant "seer"-Wuriu Sengu was standing before the partition wall that
separated us from the adjacent room. It was there that the converter had been
installed. Films previously taken by the mutants indicated that the device had
been given a special location. The room was comparatively small and contained
no other displays of equipment. Sengu concentrated his gaze on the wall. The
illumination from the few glow tubes on the ceiling seemed to disturb him.
After a few moments he raised his hand. His 4 outstretched fingers told us
that Akon security had posted a stronger guard than expected around this
device which was probably the most valued legacy of their ancestors. Pucky
nudged me. Before I joined Rhodan I noted that the mousebeaver had vanished
along with the other teleporters. They had gotten their orders to go fetch the
4 scientists who were familiar with the converter. If everything had gone
according to plan, these men would be meeting together about now in order to
discuss some things that Ishibashi had previously suggested to them. What we
had in mind wasn't especially difficult when regarded from the purely
practical side; however, the psychological factors involved were by far more
important. We had to avoid letting anyone know that the machine had actually
disappeared. Otherwise conclusions as to our further intent would be
inevitable. A second "psycho-point", as John Marshall called it, was the 4
scientists. Solar Intelligence had decided to bring them into the museum by
force. Their abduction was to be made known to the Akon secret service as soon
as the machine was ready to operate. For this purpose it had been arranged for
Marshall to be in telepathicontact with a mutant waiting on the outside. The
result of such a "tipoff" from unknown sources would be an immediate
occupation of the museum area. By that time we should have disappeared with
the machine but special combat robots would start a mock battle, during which
the nuclear explosion would occur. It was a complicated plan. It contained
many elements of danger that we had to consider. Above all, the abduction of
the 4 scientists must not be discovered prematurely. They were presently
meeting in the country home of a physicist named Artol of Penoral. There they
were to be overpowered and teleported secretly to the museum site. Perry
pointed to the interconnecting passageway. We heard a loud, commanding voice.
Another voice answered. Marshall gave us a signal. It was apparent that he
had picked up the thoughts of the Akons. "The guards have permission to fire
on sight," he whispered. "The tipoff strategy is working." Rhodan checked his
shock-gun. We were not to make our move until the scientists were on hand.
Without their help the use of the time-phaser would be impossible. The second
hand of my watch seemed to have stopped. As always in such situations, time
stood still. A red-headed sergeant moved carefully to the arched doorway.
Sengu passed him a small diagram which indicated the position of the Akon
sentinels. Other specialists of the commando group examined their sensor and
tracking devices. Beyond the intervening wall there were no signs of a
surprise buildup of energy, as in preparation for an attack. They actually
seemed not to expect a move in the direction of the time-phasing machine. It
was another 20 minutes before the teleporters appeared. In 2 separate jumps
they brought the scientists along with Kitai Ishibashi, whose suggestive
influence had made the Akons think that their arrival here was quite normal
and proper. When Tako Kakuta approached us the soles of his boots were
squeaking. It was hardly audible and yet it seemed to me that it could be
heard in every room of the museum. Rhodan raised a hand and Kakuta paused long
enough to wipe his soles with a cloth. Evidently he had come in contact with
some kind of wax material used in floor maintenance. When he moved again his
footsteps were as silent as those of the other men. "Sorry!" he whispered.
"The kidnaping worked out alright. Betty Toufry has been advised. We can
begin." I observed the Akons more closely. They were wearing robe-like
shoulder capes as a sign of their dignified stations. There was still a
slightly blank expression in their eyes, which would soon change, however. I
was wondering if a total suggestive block in their minds might not have
undesirable repercussions. If these experts did not operate the controls
correctly the whole mission would be unfeasible. The only thing left would be
flight. Rhodan came out from behind the machine where he and Marshall had
been standing. His signal sent the commando detail into action. I joined
Marshall as we entered the adjacent hall. It was a large, vaulted room which
contained the strangest apparatus I had ever seen. It was a large cube resting
on a platform that was several meters high. On one side of this square
"foundation" there was a built-in staircase. Nearby a steel door could be seen
which gave entrance into the power room beneath the assembly. When I looked
about for the guards I saw two of them standing at the other entrance. One was
crouched down at the staircase but the fourth man was so close to me that I
could have touched him. The Terrans operated smoothly and soundlessly. A team
of two attacked each sentry and prevented him from crying out, while a third
man pressed an anaesthesia mask over his face. Finally the unconscious Akons
were placed in deep sleep by a doctor. Once more no word was spoken aloud.
Kitai Ishibashi had the scientists fully under his control. I could imagine
the challenge it must have been for his paramental faculties to force them to
disregard the surrounding circumstances. They were under the impression that
they had come here of their own free will to carry out an experiment that had
been authorized by the Ruling Council. They moved with the assurance of men
who were being escorted by the highest of official dignitaries. Moreover they
did not speak with one another. Marshall and Pucky led them over to the
machine. One of the Akons-it was Artol of Penoral-extracted a code-signal
device from his pocket and inactivated the energy screen that surrounded the
machine. I nodded appreciatively. The Terrans had thought of everything. How
quickly a plan like ours could go wrong because of details like this. I
remained in the hall until the intricately worked-out steps had run their
course. The technicians came in with the powerful grav-neutralizer and
anchored it magnetically to the converter floor plates. Twenty robots took up
positions at the entrances. They were armed with heavy energy weapons. Their
special programming was equivalent to a kamikaze assignment. They were to hold
the site until we had disappeared with the time- phaser and then the bomb was
to explode. For Rhodan the 20 robots were a small price to pay when the
salvation of the Earth was at stake. Only a few commandos remained outside. I
went up the stairs of the machine and passed through an airlock. I heard
voices in the connecting passage. John Marshall was briefing his men. "This
way, sir," said the red-haired sergeant. "Please turn off your deflector
screen." I depressed the control button and the hum of the projector died
away. When I shoved up my filter I could again see quite normally. The passage
led to the control room which was additionally secured by hermetic hatches.
This was also a cubically-shaped room which was filled with a maze of
equipment of every description. Not too much room was available for extra
personnel. No one paid any attention to me so I drew back into a protected
angle between 2 triangular viewscreens where I was able to watch the
operations of the Akons. Apparently they had no intention of violating
Ishibashi's instructions. Moreover, they really seemed to be familiar with the
intricate controls. When I heard the machine start to hum, my extra- brain
immediately sent me a warning signal. "I'd hold off with that until the Akons
attack," I said aloud. "They could get an energy trace on us." Rhodan nodded
and ordered the machine to be turned down again. Ishibashi passed the order
along to the Akons. Moments later a telepathic message was received. Marshall
and Pucky detected it simultaneously. "It's Betty calling us," said the
little one. "The local security boys have found out about the kidnaped
scientists. Airborne commandos are on their way. Red alert for the museum
town." He had not quite finished speaking before we heard a racket outside.
It was the typical thundering of impulse weapons. Rhodan looked at his watch.
The scientists were finally allowed to speak and they began at once to discuss
the problems of activating the time field. I only understood a fraction of the
conversation. They thought that Kitai was the chairman of the Ruling Council
but they took no heed of the commando troops. Outside we heard the sounds of
heavy firing. The rumbling of the powerful robot weapons indicated that the
Akon defenders had responded as we had expected. "Get ready!" Rhodan called
out. "Ras, go plant the bomb." The swarthy-skinned Terran nodded. Around his
neck was suspended a micro-bomb of Earthly design. Ras Tschubai
dematerialised. When he came back he told us he had planted the device outside
the hall in an adjacent chamber. This time I looked at my own watch. We still
had 10 minutes. The robots would have to hold their line until then. Out
hypno-mutant was very silent. I was worried about the drops of sweat that had
appeared on his forehead during the past few minutes. Unquestionably it must
be a terrible strain on him to keep the 4 Akons continuously under his mental
control. "Activate!" said Perry almost too swiftly. "Have them build up the
phaser field so that it just encloses the machine." The last of the commando
troops came on board. The hatches closed automatically. Under our feet the
nuclear pile of the power plant came to life. The indicator needles began to
rise on the scales. I was more or less familiar with such power controls since
the same kind of arrangement had been used on the old Arkonide spaceships. I
noted that the reactors were only operating at 2% of their capacity. The
physicist Artol appeared to be the leader of his group. We could all hear his
instructions but for the most part he was explaining things that we could only
grasp by using our imaginations. "Speed it up!" urged Rhodan. His blanched
face revealed the extent of his inner turmoil. I attempted to monitor the
activity of the Akons. The power step-up control of the converter was operated
by contact buttons. So far only the power plant itself had been fired up.
Current feed for a field projector, regardless of what kind, had a much
different sound. Kitai suddenly groped about for support. I leapt forward,
pushing a Terran technician out of the way, and grasped the slightly-built
mutant under his arms. Marshall saw what was going on and understood. I was
waiting for something that I could neither explain nor even estimate. A
displacement or conversion of the applicable time lines was so much to
conceive of that the brain failed to produce the normal thinking processes for
comprehension. All I could do was struggle for some mental image that might
reasonably match the situation that was to come. When the phaser field came
on, the converter did not move from its position. This meant that many things
were happening in the same place but separated by different planes of
reference. The determining factor here, however, was time rather than
distance. Ishibashi groaned. I gripped him more firmly but his glassy-eyed
look told me he had reached the end of his stamina. He had been working for
days to produce the suggestive mental block in his subjects. If he should
collapse now there was no telling what the Akons would do. Naturally we could
force them by other means. The only question was, how long would we have to do
it to keep them tractable for our purposes. The humming of the power plant
irritated me. It was a steady, monotonous sound-too normal, in fact, to
indicate the technical wonder we were anticipating. Rhodan was bending over
the shoulders of the Akons while they concentrated on their control panels.
The viewscreens were functioning by now, revealing both the outside world and
the machine itself. "Pucky!" said Rhodan suddenly. "Get ready to dispose of
that bomb!" This startled me as I realized the demolition device would
explode in 2 minutes. If we hadn't pulled out of the present time frame by
then we could be caught in a fire of annihilation. "Hold on another minute,"
Marshall interjected. "Jump within 30 seconds of ignition." The red-haired
sergeant pointedly checked his impulse beamer. Breaking out of the museum
could bring on a catastrophe. It would precipitate incalculable political
complications. If only one wounded Terran should be found here it would mean
more than a lost battle for Rhodan. The mousebeaver was standing beside me.
Kitai's knees began to tremble. Outside we could hear the thunder of the
robots' weapons. Mingled with this were frequent bursts of metallic sounds,
usually followed by an explosion. It was obvious that our combat machines were
being shot down. It had only been intended that they would have to provide a
brief holding action. The fighting force had been adequate for our planned
schedule except that by now we should have vanished from the present time
plane. "Pucky... !" The little one glanced at Rhodan. In 5 seconds it would
be time for his teleport jump. Everyone stared at him entranced as he
concentrated-except for myself. My attention was occupied by Kitai, who
slumped against my chest. But in that instance I happened to see the
viewscreens. The battling robots had disappeared from view while under my feet
I felt and heard the rumbling of another apparatus. Without thinking I cried
out: "Stop-come back! We're pulling out. Stay here, Pucky!" I shoved the
mutant into Marshall's arms and sprang forward. The Akons were busy discussing
their work, apparently fascinated by what was happening to the machine. Artol
of Penoral was bent forward intensely concentrating on a circular screen above
the controls of the phaser field. I reached the mousebeaver just as he came
out of his fixation but I jerked him off his feet and shook him
roughly. "Snap out of it!" I shouted."Pucky, don't jump-it would be the end
of you!" Pucky understood. Without a word he leaned his head on my shoulder
and closed his eyes. I realized that even mousebeavers have nervous
systems. By now Ishibashi was lying on the floor and the medico of our
commando team was taking care of him. Rhodan and the other mutants were
watching the scientists. Apparently their mental blocks were very deep-seated
because they had not yet become aware of Kitai's withdrawal. "Can they come
out of their trance?" asked Rhodan quickly. Our other hypno mutant, Andre
Noir, seemed calm about it. "Kitai did his work well. They still don't know
what's going on here. If they start to get edgy I'll move in on them. No
sweat, sir." I couldn't take my eyes from the viewscreens. The bomb must have
detonated a minute or so ago but we had not felt any repercussions from it. It
was hard to imagine that the exhibit hall that we were looking at as though in
a fast-motion film had already been destroyed. I finally followed Artol's
gaze. The digital counter over the control panel seemed to be measuring the
rate of reversal of relative time. It was impossible to read the flickering
numbers, however, to determine how many years we had returned into the
past. Within a few moments my logic sector reacted. It reminded me that the
impression of "time travel" was confusing and false. The counter was only
measuring the increasing strength of the phaser field. But somewhere there
would have to be a synchronously operating device to convert that indication
into equivalent years of time. When I shared this thought with Rhodan we soon
found the computer that was doing this work. It stood behind me. We'd have to
figure out the schematics later. Apparently Artol could read them and
interpret the output data. The pictures on the screens were changing in such
rapid succession that we could hardly distinguish one from the other. It was
like a runaway film. The cultural periods were rolling past while the exhibit
hall remained unchanged. Then suddenly it was gone. We saw open country that
was bordered to the north by a long stretch of forest. We had reached a time
period when the museum town of Impton had not yet come into being. A bell
sounded. The maximum power of the phaser field was being held constant by an
automatic program control. It meant that we had come to a "stop". I awoke as
if from a dream. Rhodan kept looking at the screens. "Success, Your
Eminence," said Artol. But his eyes were still glazed and vacant looking.
Andre nodded to me. I realized that Kitai's suggestive block was stronger than
we had anticipated. I stepped forward since I spoke the ancient Arkonide
language better than the Terrans. Apparently the physicist was now considering
me to be the chairman of the Council. "Hold the machine steady where it is,"
I said. "How big is the radius of the phaser field?" "20 meters, Excellence.
It only encloses the epotron." I realized this was the Arkonide name for the
machine. "Is it possible to go out on the platform without being exposed to
any danger?" "Yes, it's possible but it would be advantageous to intensify
the phaser field in that case." "Why?" The scientist seemed strangely
reserved. "You have the research data, Your Eminence," he replied. Rhodan
cleared his throat warningly. I did not follow up the remark. Naturally, Artol
would have prepared and submitted the results of his studies. I knew it would
be useless to bring him out of his state of hypnosis. Andre pressed me aside.
"I'll take over," he whispered. "Get on with the transport operation." I
followed Rhodan, who was already at the outer airlock. Certainly the
atmospheric conditions of the planet Sphynx could be no worse than those of
our own "present" time. We could open the outer hatch without any special
preparations. When we stepped out onto the platform we experienced something
that it took me a few seconds to analyse. "Illogical!" warned my extra-brain.
"Something is not right. If the phasing field's radius is so limited-how is
that you don't see the surroundings of your own time frame beyond its
effective range?" I grasped Rhodan's arm. My logic sector was right! When I
told him my thoughts he cleared his throat as if embarrassed. "This is over
my head," he answered. "We should have brought Kalup along. I would presume
that a person inside the field could not see the normal world." "Especially
when the field only encompasses a fraction of the other time plane. Perry,
this disturbs me. We were told this wasn't to be a regular trip through
time-merely a distortion of the reference point. I imagine I'm seeing
everything that exists within the distortion zone. What lies beyond it should
either not be seen or it should be only shadowy and vague. Actually what we
should be seeing out there is our own plane of time!" If the other men were
as confused as I was they didn't show it. They were only concerned about the
antigrav transporter which had apparently come through the strange journey
unharmed. "We'll discuss it later," said Rhodan, changing the subject. "Right
now what we have to do first is to get this thing to the Ironduke." I
withdrew and strolled around the platform. To the east of our real position
lay the museum town-that is, in our own time reference. In that sense one
could say that we were in the exhibit hall which had already been ripped
asunder by the nuclear bomb. "Enough to drive you donk," commented Pucky. I
turned to see the little fellow standing at the top of the stairs. He was
looking down uncertainly. Directly before us was a growth of Akon air-root
trees. Far and wide, no one was to be seen. "If I had my druthers, Atlan, I'd
take a jump right now," he said. "Then we'd really know what it looks like out
there." "That you will not do." "I could make it." The little fellow's
incisor tooth gleamed enterprisingly. Wordlessly I took his hand and drew him
back from the stairs. If I myself couldn't understand what physical laws were
affecting us at the moment I could at least imagine the consequences of
suddenly leaving the phaser zone. The commando troops had taken up defensive
positions along the edges of the platform. Their weapons bristled menacingly.
The technicians activated the antigrav transporter and adjusted its field to
the mass of the converter machine. "Whether or not it'll bear up under the
phaser field we'll soon find out," said a young engineer almost
indifferently. Rhodan was listening at the entrance passage. He had sent
somebody back inside to keep an eye on the scientists. They were still under
the impression that they were carrying out an authorized experiment. An
unexpected jolt threw me to the deck of the platform. I clung to the railing
and waited. The transformer bank of the antigrav was in an uproar. The
time-phaser lifted uncertainly from the ground, reeling and jerking, finally
hovering at an elevation of 3 meters while the antigrav took its measure. I
remained lying in the same position although I turned on my back to look over
at Rhodan. His features were trembling visibly with agitation and then I knew
that someone had miscalculated. The antigrav field was just barely sufficient
to neutralize the weight of the machine. I waited patiently until our 2 small
propulsion units started whistling. Their base plates had been welded to the
platform. The converter slowly began to move. I didn't try to calculate the
effects of the air resistance nor did I think in terms of how fast the entire
mass could move. Certainly our speed would not be very great. The propulsion
units had a thrust capability of 150 kilos per unit. It was enough for me
that the whole structure moved at all. We glided around a group of low hills
where a new view presented itself. The tops of high buildings could be seen
beyond the horizon. The blue sun of the Akon System had just risen. It was
early morning. "Now all that's left is to make a precision landing at our own
settlement in the extra-territorial zone," said Rhodan. I laughed ironically.
"All that's left... " How simple it sounded! Wuriu Sengu smirked but he
refrained from commenting. The nervous stamina of these Terrans was
astonishing. I never stopped marvelling at their spirit of enterprise. I
finally got to my feet and dusted off my uniform while trying to be casual in
my observation of the "non-existent" landscape. After about 10 minutes a
ground vehicle put in an appearance. I waited curiously to see the reaction of
its occupants. They only noticed us when we were close upon them. They looked
up in surprise. Somebody shouted something I couldn't make out. Rhodan
casually waved at them. We knew then that we could make contact with the
inhabitants of a specific era through the displaced time lines of the
phaser. "Those 2 men have been dead for thousands of years," said Wuriu. I
said nothing. My eyes burned as I watched their figures grow smaller in the
distance. Far ahead the first of the buildings of the city rose completely
above the horizon. They were considerably smaller than those of the time
reference we belonged to. And of course the spaceport was not yet in
existence. We flew toward the familiar group of hills where Terran engineers
had erected the trading base. The tall limestone cliffs had not changed. This
was our goal. The Ironduke was scheduled to come back to the base in time to
meet us, so we knew that if we landed exactly in a certain relationship to the
hills we would be about 30 meters from the warship's nearest landing
strut-that is, from where it would be located in our own time. We were
sighted twice again by the "local" inhabitants. I made a note to check Akon
history to see if anything would be noted there concerning our strange
advent. Rhodan went back into the time-phaser. I remained on the platform
until we sank softly to the ground. The howling of the over-burdened antigrav
subsided. The men's faces had grown tense. The plan called now for an
immediate return to the regular time plane. How would this come about? The
transition was so sudden that it struck me like a shockwave. I felt a painful
pulling sensation while a red mist welled up before my eyes. When I could see
clearly again, it was night. Above us shone the stars of the Milky Way and to
our right the contours of the battleship loomed into the sky. A blood-red
nuclear flare illumined the horizon. Our bomb! Rhodan joined me. Shadowy
figures rushed toward us. They were troops from the Ironduke. Colonel Claudrin
was the first to pound his way up the staircase, which trembled under the
Epsalian's weight. As usual his voice was thunderous. I groped my way toward
him and stretched out my hand. He shoved his weapon into its holster and
gripped me. A sudden pain shot through me. When this giant shook hands with
enthusiasm it could be felt. "Relax, sir," he said. "You'll have to excuse me
but I thought I should let you know for sure that you're back here
again." "It's been a mad dream," commented Rhodan. "You'd better give me the
same treatment, Jefe." I had to laugh when the tall Terran sank to his knees
with a groan. "Alright! Don't overdo it!" The warship's commander desisted at
last. "You're ahead of schedule, sir. We figured you'd be an hour yet getting
back. About an hour ago the Akon guard patrol wanted to talk to you. I held
them off-and then the bomb hit." "When it happened, Jefe, we were about 4000
years in the past," I told him. "So you say we've hit the bullseye? No time
displacement? Our preparations for departure took about 30 minutes. I'd say
that the flight itself lasted about 45 minutes." "That fits the picture
exactly , sir. It proves that when the field is shut off there's an immediate
return to the true plane of reference. So timing of operations on our side can
take that into account. From that standpoint there's no danger. Knowing that,
you can't ever go wrong." Somebody shouted. When I turned around I caught
sight of a slender figure darting out of the sliding hatchway. The lock door
closed again with a dull thud and the light from inside was cut off. Sengu had
just come out of the inner chamber of the time-phaser. He spoke in a calm and
objective manner. "The 4 scientists have pulled out of their trance, sir. What
are your instructions?" Rhodan pondered swiftly. Men were moving about under
the giant spherical hull of the ship in the darkness. The cargo lock slid
open. It was big enough to have taken in 2 converters. Everything was carried
out silently and under cover of the night. Rhodan delayed answering until
somebody announced that the ship's tractor beam was ready. Now it would be
easy to handle the mass of the machine. "Make an official arrest," he finally
ordered. "Bring them into the Ironduke." "Arrest-?!" I echoed in
surprise. "That's right-it's an arrest," he confirmed. "Intelligence
information indicates that the physicist Artol of Penoral had a great deal to
do with the reprogramming of the robot Regent. That means he violated the
non-aggression pact between Terra and the Akon Empire." "He was only
following orders, Perry." "Probably, but that doesn't change my position in
the matter. The other 3 scientists were pretty high up in the Blue System and
they also had their hands in the operation. Carry out my instructions, Col.
Claudrin." As Rhodan turned away my extra-brain came through to me again:
"Fool! Is it so important-when the existence of an entire race is at
stake?" I looked around uneasily as if the admonishment might have been
overheard. Then I hastily got off the platform. The machine was grappled by
the loading equipment and drawn into the lower cargo hold of the
Ironduke. "Let's go," cried Pucky. "Some class, eh? Man, was that ever a
caper we pulled!" The mousebeaver emitted a shrill chuckle. I went with him
to the ground-lock entrance. The arching hull above us blocked out the starry
firmament. The only lingering sign of strange happenings was the red glow
hanging over the museum town of Impton. What had become of the people we had
seen back there 4000 years ago? 4000 years? For me it had been but a moment.
I shuddered at the thought of this machine, which was to be my means of
destroying the robot Regent. 4/ AURIS CROSSES THE LINE She had arrived 15
minutes earlier in an aircar and she had quietly spoken to the officer of the
watch, requesting an audience with Perry Rhodan. We had no other choice but to
invite the young woman into the Control Central of the battleship. And now she
stood before us. Auris of Las Toor fascinated me. Her dark eyes contrasted
with the coppery red of her hair. It seemed to me that she had seen through
some of our actions. Naturally she had no proof but that was a mere
superfluity. She knew the Terrans and she knew Perry Rhodan. Auris suspected
that there was a definite connection between our sudden arrival and the events
in the museum city. She wore the 2-piece uniform of the Akon Energy Command.
But her billowing shoulder cape was an indication of her distinguished
position as a scientist among a great race of advanced people. Perry looked
at me imploringly. This ingenious man became somewhat uncertain in the
presence of women, especially when such a beautiful woman was involved. Auris
was not only beautiful but very intelligent. I knew that she harboured certain
strong sympathies for Perry. She had only favoured me with a smile, to which I
responded with a courtly bow. She frowned slightly in some surprise at this
customary Terran form of courtesy, to which I replied ironically: "For those
who are merely tolerated it's fitting that they should adopt the customs of
their host. I trust you will forgive me." She had only nodded to me while
declining the invitation to be seated in one of the form chairs. The personnel
of the Control Central had withdrawn from our vicinity. The only ones
remaining with us were Col. Claudrin and John Marshall. I was disturbed when I
noted the barely perceptible quivering of her nostrils. The satin-brown skin
over her high cheekbones had paled under tension. Auris of Las Toor was not
making a routine courtesy call. When she brushed back her voluminous hair it
was as if she had made a decision. She apparently refused to continue with
this vapid form of conversation. Rhodan felt himself under sharp surveillance.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably but manned the ramparts of his emotions
behind a cold mask of indifference. He passed me a look that urged me to take
the lead in the conversation. My mind raced for a few seconds until I
perceived only one way of getting Perry off of a hot spot. Winking
surreptitiously at Claudrin, I stepped forward. I noted at the same time that
Auris was only a few centimetres shorter than I. "Welcome on board my ship,
Your Eminence-or may I call you Auris?" She looked at me for a long moment.
Her young lips trembled slightly. Colonel Oberst caught on in time to suppress
a surprised reaction. "Are you the commander, Excellency?" she asked. "Or may
I call you Atlan?" I smiled at her." I request that you do so, Auris. Yes, I
am the commander of this battleship as well as commander-in-chief of the Solar
Fleet's 480th battle cruiser task force. Your visit comes at an unexpected
hour. Unfortunately I must advise you that we are taking off in 15
minutes." "That's a matter for the First Administrator to decide." Rhodan
avoided her gaze. "My orders stand," he said. "I am urgently required to
return home. According to Terran custom it is not my place to influence the
decisions of a unit chief and ship's commander. I am a guest here, nothing
more." She still managed to control herself. I looked at her more closely and
noticed again how desirable she was. When our eyes met she abruptly changed
the subject and came to the point of her visit. "Alright, then carry on with
your schedule. But first I must request that you free my uncle along with his
3 assistants, and that you unload a certain piece of equipment. In which case
I will pledge myself to silence regarding this situation. I have considerable
influence with the members of the Ruling Council." Rhodan raised his brows
deliberately in surprise. I looked about me in feigned wonderment. "How is
that? I don't believe anyone here understands what you're saying." She
remained self-controlled. "I thought as much. My uncle is the hyper-physicist
Artol of Penoral. The device I mentioned has presumably been destroyed in an
atomic explosion. I have come here alone without the knowledge of the proper
defence authorities in order to avoid complications on both sides. Or do you
perhaps assume that I regard these happenings as mere coincidence? The reason
for your landing on Drorah is quite apparent." "I still fail to understand
you, Auris." She tried to bypass me. "I'd like very much to negotiate this
with the Administrator." "Admiral Atlan has my fullest confidence," Perry
interjected. Her eyes darkened in anger and alarm. I looked over at Marshall,
who was monitoring the conversation with his paranormal faculties. He seemed
to catch his breath tensely when she touched her wrist just a bit too
inconspicuously to adjust a bracelet. Rhodan suddenly tensed also but I forced
myself to be calm. Appearing to be merely pensive I went up to her so closely
that I caught the seductive scent of her hair. Without saying a word I
grasped her hand and banged it against the cabinet of a computer console. The
bracelet shattered and fell from her wrist. I was indifferent to her outcry
because I knew the blow had not been painful. Rhodan bent down and retrieved
the broad-banded piece of jewellery. Auris leaned back against the bulkhead,
pale and trembling. I waited, knowing well that my expression was anything but
friendly now. I heard a tinkling sound and turned to see Rhodan bending open
the precious metal casing of the bracelet. A crevice was revealed in which
there were micro-elements of an electronic nature. "Not bad," he said. "You
should have activated the transmitter immediately, Auris." "Barbarian!" she
fumed at him. "I wish to leave now!" I took the camouflaged device and
examined it. It was a high-powered transmitter. I next checked my watch but
before I could say anything Rhodan took the initiative. "Col. Claudrin-you
are cleared for emergency takeoff. Advise the Akon Energy Central. Tell them
to open the screen. Auris of Las Toor remains here." He gave us an impersonal
nod and strode over to the armourplate entrance hatch. The Ironduke was filled
with the howl of sirens. Crewmen ran to their stations. Three minutes later
the machinery was warming up. During this time I was standing beside the young
woman who had made no effort to resist Rhodan's decision. Nor was there
anything left to conceal from her. She had seen through our plan. "I'm sorry,
Auris. You will have to go with us. But it's not the firstime, is it? The
lastime we-were your guests so now we have the honour to offer our hospitality
to a bewitching young lady." She governed herself in an exemplary manner.
Only the paleness of her cheeks revealed her inner turmoil. "You are going too
far, Atlan! The Ruling Council suspects you of having stolen the time-phaser.
There are storm clouds on the political horizon which are straining to the
breaking point." I considered her declaration to be honest and forthright
until I caught Marshall's derisive expression. Apparently he had been able to
break through the Akon woman's natural mental screen. "I must inform you," he
said, "that no one suspects us of having brought the machine into our
possession. They are merely of the opinion that we wanted to penetrate the
museum in order to obtain certain technological information. They believe
further that they were able to apprehend our agents and that the latter were
killed by the nuclear explosion. You have come here without the knowledge of
either the Council or your Security forces." "You're dreaming!" "I'm sorry
but I believe not. The purpose of your micro-transmitter was to record your
conversation and to beam it out. You planned to have the discussion picked up
by an automatic receiver station. After leaving the ship you were intending to
use the tape to force us to hand over the phaser machine. We're grateful for
your cooperation." Now I understood! This wonderful woman had offered us a
chance; or rather, she had not wished to make difficulties for Rhodan. Her
face revealed her real desperation now. Her fleeting glance told me that she
was looking for a way out of her predicament. The men of the Control Central
had taken their flight positions. Intelligence and Security officers were
discussing Auris' presence here. I placed a hand on her arm and whispered to
her. "The stellar empire of Terra is at stake, Auris. You should realize that
we can't let you go now. Your suspicion is too well-founded for us to take the
risk of letting you speak with your very shrewd countrymen. They think the
converter has been destroyed. Your uncle is in good health. I must ask you to
resign yourself to this journey and to wait for the outcome of our
operation." She pushed my hand away as her gaze shifted to Rhodan, who was
just strapping himself into the commodore's seat. "You are forcing me to be a
traitor!" "Nonsense! Besides, there's nothing you can prove. Or do you
believe Perry would be agreeable to your Searching the Ironduke?" Marshall
seemed to be reading her thoughts again. I wasn't quite sure whether or not
Auris was deliberately lowering her paranormal screen so that John could
perceive what she was thinking. "A formation of warships from the Regent's
fleet is approaching, sir," said the telepath. "It's advisable to make a
forced takeoff." Perry overheard it and turned to Auris with a strange smile
on his lips. She tossed her hair back with a quick movement of her head and
finally sat down in a form chair. I knew then that she had consciously
revealed the information to John. I cleared my throat gently and sat down
next to her. "Many thanks, Auris. How was the Regent notified? Our radio
monitors didn't pick up any such message." "They sent a courier by
transmitter, sir," announced Marshall. It finally seemed to be painful for him
to keep probing the young woman's wide-open thoughts. When I gave him a
signal he bowed and left us. Auris of Las Toor said nothing more. We sat there
and listened to the intercom voice traffic from the sector chiefs. Rhodan made
a personal contact with the Akons. They tried to detain the warship but didn't
dare to do it forcefully. Rhodan expressed his sympathies concerning events
at Impton and asked if there had been any casualties. The spokesman for the
Ruling Council briskly cut off the videophone contact. It was obvious they
suspected Terran agent activity in the case but had not been able to pinpoint
the evidence. Minutes later the giant battleship thundered into the sky. The
still glowing crater of the explosion appeared on the viewscreens. It wasn't
too large. Only a minor portion of the museum city had been destroyed. I only
breathed a sigh of relief when we had gotten out of range of the Akon defence
fortresses. We hurtled out into space at full acceleration, where we soon
detected the entrance shockwaves of about 20 heavy class ships. No one paid
much attention to the roaring of the hypersensors. The Regent's robots had
arrived too late. Rhodan came and joined us. Claudrin was busy preparing for
linear flight. "Why didn't you relate your suspicions to Akon Intelligence,
Auris?" he asked. She stared at him silently. I gave him a sarcastic look
which he also couldn't fail to catch. This Terran might be an outstanding
statesman and an even better fleet commander but he understood nothing about
women. He looked at me in sudden confusion and reddened visibly like a
schoolboy. Then he stammered and excused himself. When he left I chuckled
softly. "He'll soon comprehend, Auris," I said to her casually. "If we hadn't
discovered your wrist transmitter in time, what would have happened
then?" She lowered her gaze. Apparently she was suffering from certain pangs
of remorse or a twinge of conscience but was leaving the decision to fate. She
had attempted to be loyal to her people yet she had hoped that something would
happen that would not corroborate her suspicions. Now I could guess why she
had grasped her camouflaged wrist transmitter so quickly. It was probably true
that no one knew she was on board the Ironduke. Rhodan had counted on it when
he spoke to the chairman of the Council, since he did not mention a word about
her presence. Nor was he questioned concerning Auris. She sat there staring
into a corner of the room. Although her face was still tense I had the
impression that a faint smile touched her lips. I sighed and got up. My place
was with the men at the flight controls. Marshall gave me a nod. He would
continue to monitor the situation. Before I left her, however, she spoke
quietly: "Atlan-who is this new Imperator?" I stopped abruptly. Without any
preamble she had reminded me of why I was here. "He's a deranged scoundrel who
is being misused by Akon madmen." "Do you believe the Imperium will collapse
or fall into the wrong hands?" "If Minterol I is not
deposed-absolutely!" "Does that mean your robot Regent has failed you?" "Yes
it does. The Brain was tampered with. And that's where your uncle played an
important part. He is here on board as a prisoner of war." "What are you
planning to do with the time converter?" I finally turned back to her. Her
eyes were bright and alert. She wanted to know the truth. "Auris, you did the
right thing. If you want to keep peace in the galaxy, don't question our
actions. I have decided to destroy the most ingenious creation of my
ancestors. A robot that starts acting up and making mistakes isn't usable
anymore. In fact the Regent has become dangerous. It has to be destroyed or
the races of the Milky Way-" "Yes, I know." The loudspeakers announced a
signalling on the tracking monitors. We were approaching the realms of
relative light-speed. The echo screens of the remote scanners were showing
green bogie blips. The robotships were in a retropulsion mode. A few coded
pulse messages were intercepted but we were no longer concerned about them. A
few minutes later we entered semispace under the protective field envelope of
the Kalup compensator. A strange, greenish sun glowed suddenly on the target
screen of the para-tracker. It marked the location of an imitation cruiser of
the imperium. There the Sotala was waiting for us. I slanted my seat back.
Auris seemed to be brooding. Once in awhile she appeared to shudder slightly.
She had given us to understand that she belonged to us. To us? I looked
across at Rhodan. "To him, you fool!" retorted my logic sector. I nodded
involuntarily. Years had passed since Rhodan had met this young woman.
Meanwhile her feelings for him had ripened. I had given up all hope of ever
Winning her for myself. Finally I fell to wondering again what might have
happened if the Ruling Council or Akon Security had gotten the slightest
suspicion of our real activity. Without any question they would have done
everything possible to block the takeoff of the Ironduke. So far the Terrans'
mad plan had succeeded. However, I dared not think of the task ahead of me at
the moment. A feeling of apprehension came over me every time I tried to
imagine how the time converter would function during the next phase of our
operation. The engines rumbled onward. Within a few hours we would reach the
Sotala. Then our final power move would begin. I thought of the 4 Akon
scientists on board. What conclusions would be drawn from the fact of their
disappearance? Our agents on Sphynx had a hint of the possibilities but only
after the physicists had already been kidnaped. Probably the general opinion
was that they had died in the explosion. On the other hand, such
considerations might lead to further thoughts about the time converter. But
if it were really possible to reach another time era of Arkon 3, all
counteractions by the Akons would be useless. They could only hinder our
attack out of nowhere if they should succeed in snatching the device from us
in time. At the present state of affairs the rulers of the Blue System had
lost. If they did manage to arrive at the right conclusion, however, all they
would be able to do was to hope for a failure of the machine. My eyes felt
damp, which was a characteristic of my race under this kind of tension. My
broodings were getting me into a state of excitement which was not tolerable
in view of the responsibility which faced me now. I had to force myself to
remain calm and collected. "Are you getting nervous?" inquired Auris. Her
face was as expressionless as it had been when she arrived on board. Yes, I
was nervous. After all, it wasn't every day that a man prepared to meet his
ancestors. 5/ THE ANCIENT HIGH COMMAND The hypercom loudspeaker emitted a
short chirping sound. It signified the reception of a coded pulse message on
the special frequency band of the Arkonide Intergalactic Task Force under
command of Admiral Notath. The dispatch was addressed to Fleet High Command
on Arkon 3. The call letters were not encoded. We waited until the repeat
message stopped coming in. The auto-analyser shoved the magnatape foil into
the depulser unit. After serial arrangement the the input the coded message
was fed to the computer in the mathematical section. The code was known to
us. The deciphering process required 12 minutes, which indicated a range of
possibly 6 billion variables. My ancestors had known well how to guard their
secrets. By normal Earthly time it was the 10th of February of the year 2106.
By use of the time converter we had moved back 6023 years into the past, to
await the reception of our historical hypercom message. We were the only ones
who knew that within 2 hours the real Sotala would be destroyed. We were
taking its place. It was an uncanny experience. Our converted heavy cruiser
had been enveloped by a time-distortion held. The thing that was hard for me
to grasp was the fact that inside this insensible and insensible mesh of
forces we were able to receive a radio message which had been beamed out more
than 6000 years ago from a spaceship of my ancestors. Mercant and Col. Nike
Quinto were with us in the Control Central, which had been perfectly
simulated. We were all wearing the grey uniforms which were standard issue in
the Arkonide Fleet. On our shoulders and breast flaps glittered the colourful
symbols and rank insignia that were in traditional usage at that time. Rhodan
was the "First Officer" and I played the role of Commander. Once more the
750-man crew had been processed through a session of hypno-training in old
Arkonide and the technology of the past. I had attempted to trap them into
making incriminating mistakes but they had not been tricked by my questions.
In effect they were Arkonides of the era of Imperator Tutmor VI. After coming
on board I had even secreted myself in the chemical lab where I had cut up a
uniform and subjected it to analysis. When I found out that Solar Intelligence
had also carefully simulated the synthetic fibres used in those days, I gave
up. These men had made no mistakes! We had arrived in the vicinity of my home
system 24 hours previously. We hovered in space at a distance of 8 light-years
from the Arkon sun. We were using the gravity field of a red sun as protection
against tracking detection and felt relatively safe. We knew that the outer
cordon of satellite fortresses had come into existence by that time. No one
in the Control Central spoke a word but the burden of tension could be seen in
the Terrans' faces. Rhodan had again taken refuge behind his expressionless
mask. Mercant smiled a bit too fixedly while Quinto streamed rivers of sweat.
Everyone had his own way of reacting to the situation. The mutants were
gathered in the lower cargo hold of the Sotala. The telepaths together with
the suggestor Ishibashi and hypno-specialist Noir were monitoring the 4
scientists, upon whose operations the success of the entire enterprise
depended. The phaser field did not waver. The time plane we had reached
remained constant. I wasn't quite sure just how the Akons had been coerced to
do their work or how they had been convinced of how vital the perfect function
of the machine was to us. It would have been impossible to continue keeping
the Akons under hypnotic influence although Ishibashi's powers were urgently
needed. Apparently the other mutants were merely standing by for the
present. Auris of Las Toor had definitely come over to our side. For her
there were no more compromises. At the moment I wasn't concerned how the
scientists had been persuaded to work in our interests. On a computer console
before me lay the deciphered message from the man I was supposed to represent,
who had actually been dead for more than 6000 years. As I leaned over to read
it, Rhodan was beside me and I noted that his breathing was tense. He was much
more nervous than he cared to let on. Perhaps it was the uncanny aspect of our
undertaking that tautened the nerves and caused the blood to
race. "CCFK-1919-ABOAT-, Heavy cruiser Sotala, Cmdr. Capt. 2d cl. Tresta, to
Fleet High Command Ark-3, attention of His Omniscient Eminence Tutmor VI. Task
assignment Nebula, special orders 4th phase completed. 4 methane cruisers
destroyed, 2 com stations eliminated. Evacuation of numbers 2 and 4 in Ilatzi
System follows. Transporter with landing troops requested. Holding position.
Signed Tresta, ship Sotala... " I read through the dispatch twice. It agreed
with the historical text that had been handed down. Rhodan cleared his throat
dryly. Allan D. Mercant reached for the dispatch foil. "In a few minutes the
answer from Fleet High Command should come through. Tresta will be instructed
to return home immediately. A new weapon was employed in the Nebula operation.
The war against the methane breathers is nearing its end." He spoke of things
we knew. We had only a few more minutes to wait. The fighting men in the time
of Tutmor IV had been swift and logical in their responses. In those days the
signs of the degeneration had only been seen by the scientists. The fact that
they had immediately begun the construction of a super robot brain said much
for the decisiveness of their leaders. The answering message came through as
expected and was deciphered. The contents coincided with our information.
Tresta was given orders to return to home base without delay and submit his
battle report. We continued to hold our receivers open but the Sotala, was
heard from no more. Mercant looked at his watch. Finally he straightened his
frail frame and looked around. "Gentlemen, at present the heavy cruiser is
being destroyed by superior enemy forces. No survivors! No time to beam out a
distress signal." My voice failed me for a moment. I had to swallow several
times before I could speak. "I'm beginning to doubt my senses. Did you say-the
Sotala is being destroyed at present... ?" "Yessir. We are located precisely
in its own plane of time." I sat down. My legs were shaking. It would have
helped if we could have at least sensed the operation of the incomprehensible
machine but we could feel nothing. The stars of star cluster M-13 glittered
on the viewscreens. Thus I had always known it. Nothing had changed. Of course
the short timespan of merely 6000 years was much too negligible to effect any
change in the constellations. Mercant turned to Rhodan. He was as disturbed
as I was. So Terrans were also familiar with the feeling of being at the
finish line. "Sir, it would be advisable now to transmit a simulated weak
signal to the Fleet High Command-that is, using our prepared message. We have
to confirm the reception of their order to return." "Whatever you say,"
replied Rhodan huskily. He nodded to the com officer. Behind the transparent
metal partition we could see the communications specialists getting to work.
The confirmation was sent out on the same frequency and in the same
code. Mercant nodded his satisfaction. I looked down at my uniform, which was
very plain except for the gleaming symbol of the Greater Imperium on my
chest. I tried to shake off the idea of the past. Seconds later I had the
impression of actually being a part of this plane of time. It was wrong to
think of a present that didn't exist anymore. The year 2106, in Earthly
reckoning, had become unreal although "now-time" was out there only a few
miles from the false Sotala. I had to keep telling myself that this relative
reference was only effective inside the phaser held. "Chow time!", Quinto
called out. Still perspiring, he went over to the transport chair. These were
incorporated in the design of the old Arkonide cruisers, being used to carry
men from the Control Central to the of‚cers' mess. It wasn't much more than a
simple basket. When I got up I heard Rhodan clear his throat again. "You
should see the doctor, Terran," I said listlessly. His answer was incoherent.
Everybody on board knew that we now had to wait out a period of 48 hours. The
true Sotala would not have been able to arrive before the 12th of February by
our reckoning. It had been a typical transition-type ship whose earlier design
of the nav-hypermatics section made it necessary for long and complex
calculations. Still, one might say that not so much had changed on the most
modern units of the robot fleet, discounting the first weakness of not having
a living and thinking crew on board. We went to the messhall and there was
very little conversation. I had to force down the repulsive-looking synthetic
food. It reminded me of a still more remote past-10,000 years ago. At that
time I had flown from Arkon to visit the planets of an unimportant little
star. The colonists on the second planet had sent out a call for help. The
star had been Earth's sun. I had to restrict my flow of memory so that I
wouldn't start fantasizing. One way to do that was to push the reddish-blue
mush away from me. On board the old Arkonide fighting ships there had been no
other rations than this. When on a mission there were no social differences
between officers and crewmen. I retired to my cabin, where old memories
plagued me again. Finally I had to ask the ship's doctor for a deepsleep
injection. When he arrived I learned that many men had requested the same.
Perry had been among them. I smiled with relief as I fell asleep. It was the
best way to bridge over our period of waiting. .    .   .   . We encountered
a phenomenon which strengthened Kalup's theory only a few hours after we had
rejected his claims. The scientific genius had drawn some conclusions from the
fact that outside the phaser field we were looking at the relativistic past
instead of at the environment of our present time. He had explained the
results of some of his research before we had started out. He claimed that
we-the Sotala, and every atom inside the conversion held-were components of
present time, now as before. He meant specifically February 11 of the year
2106, by Terran reckoning. However, that existence within the frame of
"now-time' was relative. To any observers in the plane of reference of the era
of Tutmor VI, we were materially stable objects of their own time. And on this
basis a remarkable effect was obtained. Kalup had concluded by saying that to
anyone in this past of 6023 years ago the ship was a recognizable physical
object-and could continue to be so if the time-phaser should suddenly put us
back to 2106 in our own time, that is if we tried to leave the field in some
precipitate manner. In the final analysis it showed us what a bewildering time
trip this was. Although we could not actually leave our own present time, to
all persons on the outside of the field we were "present" in their own
temporal plane. Shortly after his exposition we finally got under way. Prior
to this we had sent out an auxiliary craft to perform a piece of advance
strategy. We used its guns to damage one of the engines in our ring-bulge with
a precision shot. We wanted to come in with a crippled ship so that we could
justify asking for a specific landing site. After allowing the glowing hole
to cool down we had gone into transition, which brought us back into the
Einstein continuum in the orbit of the 6th planet of the Arkon System. The
manoeuvre failed to alter any effects of our time-line warpage and this was a
positive indication that the nature of the time-phaser's energy was not
subject to the laws of the 5th dimension. It was then that Kalup had his
triumph. We were tracked by several patrol cruisers of the inner defence ring
and were hailed, even through our 200-km phaser field did not extend to them.
So they could see us and also track us on the radar-echo basis. It proved
Kalup's theory. For these long-dead crewmen of the past we did exist. I had
ordered a transmission of the Sotala's code signal and call letters. The
answer had been gratifying because the landing permit had come through from
Fleet Command immediately. At the moment we were moving at a moderate speed
toward Arkon 3. A light cruiser escorted us. For the firstime I had a chance
to speak to one of these "ancestor phantoms" out of the past. As the false
Tresta I was treated very respectfully by the commander, who was a 4th-class
captain. Apparently he already knew of my success in the nebula sector. Since
I was a few steps higher in rank and could also boast of more service
seniority, the young man addressed me as "Your Excellency". In the fleets of
the old Arkonide Empire, such things were important. No one ignored the order
of rank. Over the radio I requested a landing place be assigned to us near the
main shipyards. We knew that the robot Regent was being constructed in that
immediate area. The request was processed through the prescribed service
channels. According to regulations it was not my place to personally contact
the port authority while under escort of a patrol commander. While I waited
for a confirmation, Rhodan smiled sarcastically. "Long live bureaucracy! Your
ancestors must have really had some red tape to contend with." I took his
little barb calmly. Where wasn't there such a thing as bureaucracy? As soon as
intelligent beings started to think, the first thing they always did was to
entrench themselves in red tape and regulations which were then usually handed
out by people who had no idea of the practical applications. I could well
remember the heyday of the Imperium. Although I had been the Crystal Prince
and was Commander-in-Chief of a special fleet, I had once had to present 5
signatures before a certain colonial world granted me permission to take on
fresh water supplies. It seemed that here was a similar case. First, the
cruiser commander advised me that my request to the port authority had been
approved. But it was then necessary for me to call directly and to repeat the
request. The port commander referred me to the wharf officer, who then had to
determine through Headquarters if the landing was agreeable. By the time we
were already plunging into the atmosphere with our roaring retro-engines
ablaze, I was finally advised by a young lieutenant that we should use landing
apron KP-176. "Jumping Jupiter!" exclaimed Maj. Heintz, the deputy commander.
"I'll take everything back that I ever said about red tape in the Terran
Services!" I glared at him unappreciatively but I think all 750 crewmen on
board the Sotala were starting to grin. These Terrans had a strange sense of
humour. Usually it came to the surface when other intelligences were ready to
break under the strain. Perhaps this was what was great about this young
galactic race. I looked at the viewscreen tied to the outboard cameras. The
commander of the escort cruiser requested permission to withdraw. When I had
obliged him he still had to notify the chief of the ground-based defence
fortresses that I had authorized his manoeuvre. It was only then that I was
free to bring the spherical warship down through the inner defence zone. I
didn't know at this moment that the exhausting bureaucracy of the Arkonide
officials was helping the Terrans to view our forthcoming task like a spirited
bunch of sports enthusiasts. They were amused at me and my tussle with the
petty instruments of a petty officialdom. We flew over the titanic
installations of the war planet. The remote-control central took over and
guided us into the prescribed flight corridor. My energetic protest resulted
in a mild rebuke from the local commandant. This official gave me to
understand that my engine damage was "a mere scratch". I told him angrily that
this was a matter which he should kindly leave to the judgment of an active
service technician such as we were already provided with on board our damaged
vessel. In spite of our perilous situation, Rhodan's grim sense of humour was
enough to bring tears of laughter to his eyes. He suddenly found the operation
to be quite entertaining. In every section of the Sotala, a final checkout of
all personnel was made. The names of the crew members of the genuine cruiser
were known to us. Heroes had always been well recorded in Arkonide history.
The hypno-training proved itself effective. Every man knew what his name was
supposed to be, where he came from and what his background had been. In this
case the extensive pedantry of administrating officials had come in handy.
Nothing could go wrong now unless we encountered Arkonides who were personally
acquainted with the commander or any members of the crew. Then our only
salvation would be the quick intervention of the mutants, to control their
minds. Solar Intelligence had thought of everything. Mercant was still giving
instructions over the P.A. system by the time the landing struts had extended.
Beneath us was the main spaceport of Arkon 3. We caught a brief glimpse of the
mammoth building site to the west of the wharfs. There the robot Regent was
being completed by the top scientists and technicians of my venerable
ancestors. In a few days of relativistic conversion time the impenetrable
energy screen would be in place. When we touched down and bounced gently on
our hydraulic struts I was intending to bring the special bomb into the Brain
as quickly as possible and then to take flight. But for that we'd have to find
a means of gaining regulation approval through official channels for a take
off again. Without a takeoff permit we couldn't get very far with the cruiser.
The Arkonides of this age had been hard and alert. Nobody could get off Arkon
3 if the commander in charge did not approve. Not even Perry Rhodan. When the
engines died out I warned Perry again: "Listen well, little barbarian! When
these Arkonides really were alive, your ancestors were living in smoke-filled
caves and whimpered helplessly at the thunder of every storm. Don't get the
idea that those troops out there can be compared with the Arkonides of the
year 2106 A.D. You would be in for a surprise. You have to compare my
forefathers with your most capable elite soldiers. Then you will know how to
comport yourself." "Understood, sir," Mercant answered in Perry's place. "But
the operation of the time-phaser is much more important. If it fails us we'll
soon be standing before the Regent under orders of somebody from the Akon
Energy Command. I'm wondering which could be worse." I glanced at him
appraisingly. He was a model of self-control. Major Heintz, who was officially
the 2d officer, handed me the green shoulder mantle I was to wear in my
position of commander. I fastened the magnetic clips to my shoulders. My radio
helmet was a magnificent piece of workmanship. Captain Tresta had been granted
the privilege of wearing such custom gear in his time. Even this detail had
been documented in the microvideo tapes covering the crew of the Sotala. The
Terran experts had simulated the helmet perfectly. "Should somebody accompany
you?" asked Rhodan hesitantly. "Out of the question! The commander disembarks
alone and-according to custom-climbs into a groundcar of the robot reception
escort and then reports to Central Command. The crew along with the officers
have to remain on board until the captain returns. After that the granting of
ground leave for the crew lies within his own jurisdiction." Perry looked
around. The facts were self-evident. "We have to go along with the Arkonide
customs," he concluded. Mercant cleared his throat. "Here's where the
difficulties begin, sir. Take care that you don't run into somebody who thinks
he knows the real Tresta. Can you use a mento-beamer?" "No. Arkonide brains
don't react to the suggestive frequencies. That weapon was developed for use
on alien planets. I believe the Terrans found that out toward the end of the
20th century." I managed to chuckle, seeing Rhodan's perplexity. Apparently
he had forgotten that after his return home in the moon rocket Stardust, he
had used the beamer to make a decisive impression on Reginald Bell. Quinto
looked at his watch. We didn't yet know exactly how late it was. Within the
time distortion we could determine the day but not the hour. Our astronomers
were already at work on the problem. The rotation rate of Arkon 3 could not
have changed. Before I left, the correct time of day was announced. It was
13:24. When I stepped into the outer airlock and the ceremonies began, the
telepath John Marshall appeared. He reported to me that the Akon scientists
were doing what was expected of them. Whether this was of their own free will
or not was not mentioned. 20 men of the false Sotala had formed a double line
out in front. One of them announced me and I walked between them with
appropriate salutes. Ahead an escort groundcar was waiting. Shrill robot music
started up. The noisy mechanical instruments hadn't changed. Their screeching
and fifing were familiar to me from the time of my rulership. They had always
been a strain on my eardrums. In dignified representation of my rank I strode
forward to the robots. A uniformed officer straightened up in the car. I
wondered if I was supposed to know him! He turned out to be a 1st-class
captain. A dark beard obscured his chin. I looked into a pair of red Arkonide
eyes. His nearly white hair had been modishly styled. His service helmet did
not conceal it entirely. I came to a stop before the hover glider where I
struck my hand flat against the left side of my chest and bowed my head. In
rank and seniority the officer was doubtlessly my superior. All Arkonide
officers were able to note such fine distinctions. It also went without saying
that an appropriate form of address was necessary in such cases. Thus I said
respectfully: "Captain Tresta greets you, Excellency. I am reporting back in
accordance with my signal dispatches." He raised a hand. I shook inwardly. My
right hand hovered over the butt of my service weapon. I thought I could
deduce from his searching look that he had never seen the real Tresta. And so
it turned out. "My greetings to you, Captain Tresta. Welcome to Arkon 3. I am
instructed to transmit the request of the commanding admiral for your
immediate presence." The polite formality of course meant nothing. But thus
it had always been in the old fleet. Whenever a superior commander "requested"
something it was the same as a binding order. I bowed my head again and
waited until a combat robot opened the vehicle's door. Then I climbed in. I
remained silent until the higher-ranked captain had taken his seat again.
Above us glared the bright sun of my home system. I felt comfortable under its
burning heat, which the Terrans had never seemed to appreciate. The car
started up with a lurch. with shrill alarm whistles going we raced across the
spaceport, the borders of which blended hazily with the horizon. I thought I
was being unobtrusive when I stole another glance at the major construction
site but my companion noticed it. He smiled benevolently. "The work goes
forward without interruption," he told me. "I believe you were 3 years on
active duty, were you not?" "That is correct, Excellency." "Within a few
days the giant robot will be surrounded by a new type of defence screen.
Excuse me-I neglected to introduce myself. I am Captain Usaph, 1st Adjutant of
the Commanding Admiral. A year ago His Eminence, Admiral Kreto, was relieved.
The acting chief now is Admiral Aichot." I thanked him for the information,
which was something I must not forget under any circumstances. Eminent
Arkonides expected everyone to know who they were. According to custom I
inquired about Admiral Aichot's family although I already had the data from
the Regent's memory banks. But such trivialities were a part of the mentality
of my people. I didn't dare overlook them if I didn't want to be exposed. I
finally ventured to indulge in the usual jokes about the bureaucratic attitude
of the port officials, which was a welcome diversion to any officer in active
duty. The tacit animosity between front-line officers and the "tinplates", as
the civil service type troops of the administration were called, was always a
sure source of amusement. After we had travelled a considerable distance the
high buildings of Fleet Command Headquarters loomed into the sky before us.
Our conversation kept being interrupted by the thunder of spaceships which
were constantly either taking off or landing. In those days Arkon 3 was the
centre of the universe. There was no other galactic race which could have
dared to stand against us. Now and again a formation of warships would take
off into space and the roaring was so unbearable that we had to press our
hands against our ears. The car halted and once more I was faced with an
honour guard, this time composed of veteran Arkonides. Someone among them
could have known Tresta. I kept my head down and strode rapidly to the wide
steps of the building. An antigrav lift took us upstairs. The press of
service people in the wide corridors and the general hustle and bustle was
fairly breathtaking. I had to wait 2 hours until the commanding officer was
ready to receive me. The interview proceeded fairly well. Acting- Admiral
Aichot was a younger man who probably held his present position chiefly on the
basis of his distinguished heredity. He commanded the Home Fleet, was a
military expert in the Supreme Council and was also a member of the Admiralty
Staff of the Commander-in-Chief. I had to stand stiffly for an hour before
this "Top Brass" representative, who nevertheless treated me with a sort of
friendly condescension. I gave him a complete report on the effects of the
new weapon. This was a vibration beam which produced certain biological
effects and-as I already knew-was soon to be abandoned. The device hadn't held
up to its expectations, which I pointed out. I also pointed out that I had
destroyed the enemy cruisers with conventional impulse and disintegrator
weapons. I finally ventured to request permission to contact the chief
scientist of the Supreme Council, hyper-physicist Epetran. Admiral Aichot
expressed his surprise openly. For a commander of my rank it was unusual to
wish to speak to such an important personage. "Epetran? What do you want with
him?" "I'd like to make certain suggestions concerning a simplified technique
for making hypertransitions." Aichot stared at me almost pityingly. "Do I
understand you correctly? You wish to make suggestions... ? You actually
mean-technical recommendations?" "Yes, Your Eminence. My years of research
along this line have led to some important observations during actual battle
conditions, especially with the last 4 Nebula cruisers. I believe I can offer
some interesting recommendations." Aichot may have been an average commander
type but he was also an active Fleet officer. Such men were noted for their
swift powers of decision. Within 3 hours I received written permission. Only
with that could I dare to enter the palace of the Supreme Council. With that
the interview came to an end. Of course I was ordered to submit the customary
task-action report. Aichot couldn't know that meanwhile the report had been
prepared by Terran experts. I then withdrew. A hover glider brought me back
to the Sotala, where a team from the shipyards was already looking into the
engine damage. My First Officer, meaning Rhodan, had received orders to inform
me that the overhaul of the cruiser could not be completed in less than 5 or 6
days. During this period I was free to determine the disposition of the
crew. This meant crew leave on Arkon 3 but it was also a big advantage for
our operation. The deliberately planned engine damage had been Quinto's idea
so when I arrived he was basking in the favour of the men because they hadn't
counted on such a break. I had to throw cold water on their enthusiasm. "Your
hypno-training seems to be less effective than we expected. Ground leave in
this past era is out of the question. At best you would only be able to spend
your free time in the subterranean cities of the planet. You will remain on
board. I don't relish the idea of your meeting with Arkonides who might
actually know the real members of the crew. In our fleet there were thousands
of cross-contacts among the fighting men on active duty. Also, relieving and
changing of crews was an everyday occurrence, so they all knew each other. It
would be surprising if there were no man among the other crews who wouldn't
want to try to contact a buddy from the Sotala. So you have to control
yourselves." "That's an order," announced Rhodan over the P.A. "You will
govern yourselves accordingly. Major Heintz, post the men at their battle
stations." The Chief of Intelligence gazed reproachfully at the ceiling.
"Sir, for many hours now the cruiser has been on standby for action." Rhodan
swallowed, then laughed. "Excuse me, then. I haven't said a word." I looked
wonderingly at this tall Terran. He was the chief of the Solar Imperium, he
commanded thousands of ships and was practically idolized by 50 billion
Terrans and colonists. He was far above Admiral Aichot-yet he could laugh
about a mistake in his reasoning without any fear of damaging his prestige or
reputation. Perry Rhodan was a wonderful human being and friend. There had
been very few like him on Arkon. I had known a few like Rhodan but they were
now long dead and gone. Then it occurred to me that the Arkonides here in this
relativistic conversion time were actually my descendants. 4000 years earlier
I had been born and in my early manhood I had been sent off into action. Perry
noted my momentary state of confusion and wanted to be helpful. I felt his
hand on my shoulder. "Don't think about it, Atlan. It's a thing of the past.
Never forget that we are creatures of the year 2106, by Terra reckoning. What
we are experiencing here is an illusion-a deception under the almighty laws of
Nature." When he walked toward the exit hatch my gaze followed him
pensively. 6/ THE MASTER MIND OF ARKON 3 hours previously the sun had gone
behind the horizon but night had not come to the war planet. The great
spaceport was brilliantly illuminated by countless field lights, revolving
search beams and hovering nuclear "suns". Also the jet flames from departing
spaceships gave an impression of a continuing fireworks display. There was no
end to the thundering and roaring. The sky had taken on a blood-red hue above
the main shipyards, which were the most modern on the planet. There the
bellows of the thermonuclear smelters pushed a continuous river of vaporized
metal into the cooling slag troughs. Arkon 3 never slept. The robot-operated
assembly line of spaceships of every class and description was the
nerve-centre of the Imperium. The Terrans and myself were the only ones on
this world who knew what it would look like 6000 years later. At this time the
throng of Arkonide spacemen was seemingly endless. The cities swarmed with
troops from every branch of the service. Although the prime of the Empire had
passed, they could still send 100,000 manned ships into the void. Subordinate
races were not permitted on the war planet. They were best employed on the
colonial worlds. Pucky and Ras Tschubai had just returned after reconnoitring
the area. The third teleporter was still busy with our suggestor. Kitai
Ishibashi had the mission of probing the scientist Epetran. I had not been
able to make my presentation. Epetran did not live in one of the great conical
palaces but had quartered himself instead in an officer billet, which would
also have been my own way of doing things. My request was politely but firmly
rejected by his subordinates. I was informed that at present Epetran had no
time for recommendations from an officer back from the fighting front. I was
asked to present my suggestions in writing. When I returned, Mercant had only
nodded and said that it was what he had expected. Logically the Arkonides'
greatest scientist would have other things to do than to get into a discussion
with a second-class fleet captain. According to our conversion table the date
back on Earth was the 13th of February, 2106. We couldn't wait much
longer. Pucky had rolled himself up into a ball on a contour couch, exhausted
from his labours. Even Ras Tschubai had come back breathing heavily. We
guessed that their excursion hadn't been easy. So we had to wait until these
two had recovered from their exertions. In the meantime I paid the 4 Akon
scientists a visit. Artol of Penoral was monitoring the machine as usual. Two
telepaths of the Corps were keeping him under surveillance. Auris was also in
the cargo hold. For 2 days now she had avoided the Control Central. I inquired
after her health. "Alright, considering the circumstances. When will you take
action?" I couldn't answer her. We exchanged a few more words, which enabled
me to see that she was uneasy. When I returned to the Control Central very
much was going on there. Tako had returned with Ishibashi. Pucky reported that
the robot Brain already had the appearance of the Regent we knew in our own
present day. This meant that it had practically been completed. "How is the
Regent guarded?" asked Quinto. "The security is very tight, sir," answered
Tschubai. "We had to keep on making jumps continuously in order not to be
discovered. Twice we tripped off alarm systems and once I was shot at." "What
with?" "A disintegrator, sir." "With a deadly weapon?" "Yes sir. They're
playing for keeps. We saw the scientific team. About a hundred men are busy
checking out the final circuits. There's no normal way to get in without
showing special passes. They are key card devices containing each person's
frequency pattern and they are regularly monitored by the guard stations. Any
unauthorized entrance seems to be impossible. Even though the energy screen
isn't up yet, the Arkonides have gone to every extreme to tighten the security
around the Robot." I looked around. The men's faces were grim. Mercant tapped
with his fingers on a computer console. "So there's no other choice,"
declared Rhodan. "We have to go in with the teleporters. What do you have to
report, Kitai?" His imitation bio-hair, which simulated that of an Arkonide,
was glistening with dampness. "Nothing, sir-or almost nothing. We located
Epetran in the math section. His quarters are close to it. He appeared to be
putting special instructions on program tape." "He's the one who designed and
built Security Circuit A-1," put in Quinto. "It could be that he's working on
it now," said the mutant. "I tried to work on him and influence his mind but I
don't know if I had any luck. epetran has an extremely strong voluntary block.
Besides-Tako claims that he may have seen us in spite of our deflector
screens." A cold chill ran through me. When no one else could see through our
disguise, this old scientist was able to. He had an activated brain with
special faculties. Rhodan guessed my fears but sought to dismiss them. "Don't
be a pessimist, my friend! Even Epetran isn't omniscient. If he had gotten
suspicious we'd know it by now." I couldn't contradict his argument, yet from
moment to moment I became more apprehensive. I deeply regretted that I had
asked Admiral Aichot for a permit to visit Epetran. According to the
circumstances Kitai had described, it would be better not to meet
him. Mercant looked at his watch. "Soon after sunrise you'll be getting
involved with receptions, sir." I nodded, I already had the invitations. My
"colleagues" wanted to see Captain Tresta. The situation was becoming
intolerable. Quinto was about to say something when the tracking centre put
through a call. "To the Commander: a strange vehicle has stopped in front of
the cruiser." Rhodan stiffened. Heintz hit the alarm button automatically.
The men who were off duty were awakened from their sleep. Tracking switched
circuits so that we could see what they were looking at. On our viewscreens
appeared an unwieldy-looking contraption. It had wide caterpillar chains
instead of wheels and was equipped with numerous antennas. Before we could
really get a good look at it, the heavy vehicle rolled away. It disappeared
behind a battleship, became invisible once more beyond it, then entered an
armoured surface lock that led underground. We looked at each other,
nonplussed, until Mercant chuckled heartily. "Could our scientific associates
kindly explain what that was supposed to be?" he asked. Kalup still stared at
the viewscreen. His eyes had narrowed so much that they seemed to be lost in
the fatty folds of his face. "That was a sensor vehicle," he declared. "No
doubt about it. Who guided it to the Sotala? Who wanted to find out
what?" "Find out?" asked Quinto hastily. "What do you mean?" Kalup didn't
answer. He stomped swiftly toward the exit but as he went out he was heard to
mutter something that sounded like "sensor surveillance". After he had gone I
felt that my activator was louder than usual. Even 6023 years before the
present time I was already a very old man. Rhodan was still standing in front
of the screens. "It's useless to try to figure it out," I said, "It seems an
impossibility to influence Epetran by any paranormal means. So there's no
point in making his acquaintance. From what Kitai has to say, it could be
dangerous. We move into action. We'll get into the Brain with the help of the
mutants, we'll install the bomb and then get out of here." "How?" asked
Rhodan, now very alert to what I was saying. "It should be considerably
easier to return to the present time-plane of Arkon 3 than it was to enter the
era of Tutmor VI. Everyone on board has seen how tight the defences are here.
I vote for alternate 2 of our escape plan. We turn off the time converter.
When we get back we may have to face a robot attack but the Fleet under Bell's
command can cover our retreat." "That's also my opinion," declared Mercant.
"But before that there's a lot to be done. Of course if I had my preferences I
would have felt better if we could have handled this thing with Epetran's
help." "What should I tell the man?" I asked sarcastically. "That I've come
from the future to save my people?" He regarded me soberly. "Sir, perhaps
that still might not be as crazy as you think." "Mercant, you're dreaming!"
exclaimed Rhodan. "No sir, I don't quite see it that way. This scientist was
the first Arkonide to detect the beginnings of the degeneration and to
perceive its outcome. Moreover, he's expert enough to be able to conceive of
such a device as the time-phaser. I'm playing with the idea of informing
Epetran." Rhodan bluntly rejected this. When my extra-brain singled me I was
astonished that it seconded Mercant's plan. Nevertheless I was also in favour
of dropping the idea of getting any cooperation from Epetran. Rhodan got up
and went over to the main computer, where he began to press the input keys. I
interrupted him. "It would be useless to try to get a logic evaluation. Mr.
Mercant, I must also reject your proposition. The bomb can be relied upon to
explode as planned. We have no way of knowing what Epetran's reaction would be
and we can't take the risk of being arrested or maybe even shot in case he
sounds an alarm. We move as planned. I'll install the bomb." The chief of
Intelligence bowed resignedly. The decision was made. Possibly we could be
mistaken-no one could say. The computer made a clicking sound. While I was
still waiting for its output a message came through from the duty officer at
the ground lock. His face appeared on the intercom screen. "Lt. Pinch here,
sir. A letter has been delivered to you." "What... ?" "An oblong envelope,
sir. It was brought over by a robot." Rhodan stopped his computer work. We
looked at each other tensely. "Another invitation?" asked Maj. Heintz. His
voice sounded apprehensive. I shook my head. If that were the case it would
not come to me this way. Such matters were customarily handled over the radio.
The letter arrived in the Control Central. The envelope was of fluorescent
foil and it bore the seal of the Supreme Council. Rhodan's hand was tense when
he handed it to me. I ripped it open and the letter fell out. "It's in
handwriting!" said Quinto. "Who's it from?" I thought that my heart stopped
for a moment. The signature and seal were unmistakable. After reading it I
lowered the letter and looked at the others. "It's an invitation, alright!
Epetran asks me to visit him since he's heard from Admiral Aichot that I had
some recommendations to make for the improvement of transition
techniques." Rhodan also read the message. "It says other officers familiar
with the subject are also welcome... Well, I'll be! What is he up
to?" "Danger!" signalled my extra-brain. Almost against my will I declared:
"The invitation can't be avoided. When Epetran makes a request it's the same
as an order. Who will go with me?" Rhodan called his service robot to him.
"My extra uniform-fast!" he ordered. Within 30 minutes a vehicle was waiting
for us at the cruiser's ground lock. "So he took it for granted that we'd be
ready in half an hour," observed Rhodan grimly. "Alright, let's go. No, Kitai,
I'm sorry, we won't be taking you with us. Anyway, if this scientist is
equipped with an activated brain your efforts will be useless." Our suggestor
mutant remained behind. We descended in the antigrav and climbed into the
robotcar. It was emblazoned with the escutcheon of the Supreme Council. The
third man in our team was John Marshall , who was to attempt to read the
scholar's mind. Officially he was joining us as Chief Engineer of the
Sotala. We started off, not knowing what awaited us in Epetran's quarters.
Certainly he wasn't thinking of any gala reception. Apparently the interview
was to be a very sober one. Arkonides of Epetran's rank had been very clear
thinkers. They were only interested in facts. It was said especially of the
chief scientist of the Supreme Council that he very seldom took part in noisy
festivities although he stood well in the Imperator's favour. We drove into
the control zone close to the main construction site. Long hangar-like
structures loomed before us. Apparently Epetran didn't consider it unusual to
be requesting a visit from us in the middle of the night. He was one of those
Arkonides who believed that soldiers should be ready at any hour to serve the
Empire. Rhodan was uneasy when no inspections occurred. We were allowed to
pass through the energy barriers without hindrance. My extra-brain remained
silent. My skull felt as if it were held in an iron band. We knew that Epetran
had been the greatest man in Arkonide history. It was quite an ordeal to be
facing such a personality. "Captain Tresta?" queried an officer of the guard.
He belonged to the famous elite troops of the Tentons. "That I am," I
confirmed, introducing Rhodan and Marshall as officers "Telater and
Aday". "His Eminence is expecting you. Your visit will be limited to one
hour." He saluted, I nodded, and the car moved on a bit farther. We got out
in front of a tower-like structure. We had arrived. .    .   .    . Marshal's
face had blanched conspicuously. I caught a signal from him and understood. It
was dangerous to attempt to probe Epetran's mind. It was almost as if the
telepath were trying to tell me that the scientist may have detected the
paramental interference. However, if this was true the great man did not
reveal it in any way. He was a tall Arkonide with snow-white hair that hung
down to his shoulders. I had never seen a man with such a high forehead nor
such a benevolent expression. For a moment, as we came in, this kindly look
darkened. I felt as if the Supreme Council had secretly condemned us to death.
Then-quite strangely -his threatening aspect vanished. My presentation took 2
hours. His questions fairly exhausted my technical knowledge. Within the first
few minutes he had understood how the transition computations had to be
processed in order to accelerate succeeding hyperjumps and make them more
accurate in terms of the navigational course. Arkonide history has it that
shortly before his death he had introduced considerable improvements in this
regard. If I wasn't entirely mistaken, we the "yet unborn" had provided the
impetus. Even Rhodan and Marshall did some talking. In fact Perry had gone so
far as to allude to the possibility of linear spacedrive. This seemed to
fascinate Epetran still more. He regarded Rhodan closely as if he were seeking
to penetrate his thoughts. His deep voice trembled with an inner excitement
when he questioned us. We found ourselves in a laboratory where the equipment
appeared to be dedicated to computer programming. We were fairly surrounded by
instruments and consoles. It was quite clear that Epetran had not been
planning a gala reception. When Rhodan finally stopped giving hints and
reassumed his regular role, to my great relief the old man's quiet smile
returned. He wore the uniform of the practical working scientist. Only the
symbol of the Supreme Council indicated his high position. "I thank you,
Major Telater," he said. "Your statements have been very interesting. But I
believe it would be more advantageous to us to first try your commander's
recommendations for improving our existing propulsion system. You will be
hearing from me. How long will you be staying on Arkon 3?" I assumed he was
addressing me. "In any case until my cruiser has been overhauled, Your
Excellency. After that I expect to receive new orders." He nodded
thoughtfully. "Are you satisfied with the fighting power of your ship?" "It
could be better, Your Eminence." The old man frowned as if piqued for the
moment. "The Sotala's armaments are the very best." "Which soon may not be
enough, Excellency. The enemies of the Imperium are not asleep. I beg you to
let me be frank with you." "Of course, as you wish. But I know of no race in
the galaxy that would be capable of defeating our fleet." "'I was thinking
about developing intelligences. No one knows what the future will bring." He
rose to his feet by way of dismissing us. But his last words had the heaviest
impact on me. "When we are no more, the Imperium will find powerful friends.
Then it will all depend on taking the right steps." We left. The old man
gazed after us from amidst his machines. Marshall walked out first and I
followed him but then I missed Rhodan. When I turned to look back I saw him
standing there tall and straight in the lab room. Epetran's gaze and his
seemed to be locked together. Marshall stifled a sigh as we heard Perry's
departing words. "Most assuredly the Imperium will find friends one day, Your
Eminence. And they will remember you and your genius." He saluted and finally
came out into the corridor. The sliding door closed behind us. "Was that
necessary?" I snapped at him angrily "Even without that I have a feeling he
saw through us." "I do, too," he answered, impressed. "Let him make of my
words what he will." "Caution!" whispered the telepath. Farther ahead 2
soldiers of the guard appeared. My hand touched the butt of my service weapon.
But all they had to tell us was that we had gone way over our visiting limit.
They emphasized that it wasn't proper to prolong an interview with a man like
Epetran with persistent questions. I was reminded of the hospitality of my
race. I had the impression that the old man would not have let himself in for
such a lengthy discussion, nevertheless, unless he had wished it so.
Unquestioningly he would have dismissed us the minute he ceased to be
interested. I made my apologies to the guard officer, who gruffly passed us
through. A half hour later we again entered the Control Central of the
Sotala. "No unusual events, sir," reported Maj. Heintz. Outside the sun was
rising. I wondered if Epetran ever slept. Rhodan checked his watch. According
to our conversion table the date must be February 14. "Tomorrow at 12
noon-our time-the bomb will explode," he said with unusual emphasis. "Pucky
and Ras Tschubai, stand by for action. Marshall, your face is still grey.
What's wrong?" The telepath was almost apathetic when he spoke but his words
shattered our self-confidence. "Presumably Epetran knows who we are and where
we come from. Just after we entered his lab we were monitored by paramental
means. For half a minute there, you and Atlan were unconscious. I was able to
resist it. But I don't know if Epetran succeeded in breaking through your
mental screens. I don't think it was possible with Atlan. How about you,
sir?" Rhodan sat down. He stared almost dumbfounded at the chief of the
Mutant Corps. "Unconscious, you say? You sure you're not mistaken?" "By no
means, sir. I was awake. You and Atlan were asleep with your eyes open.
Probably the results are coming through now from his para-probe. I urgently
advise you to conceal the bomb in the Brain at once -and to leave this time
plane." I glanced involuntarily at the viewscreens. Outside the spaceships of
my people were taking off and landing. Personnel vehicles were crossing the
area back and forth. No one approached the Sotala. Rhodan turned on the P.A.
microphone. "All hands! Red alert is in effect. It's possible that we may be
attacked, in which case the time converter will be shut off. If we should
unexpectedly enter our own time reference we will be close to the Regent and
his robot fleet. Open fire without waiting for orders. Com Central: prepare a
distress call to the Fleet. Stand by for emergency takeoff. That is all, thank
you... " He turned off the switch. The ordnance experts appeared with Terran
combat suits. They were far superior to the equivalent products of Epetran's
epoch. The energy screens were stronger and the deflector projectors were much
more advanced. Pucky and Ras Tschubai reported. We were ready to make our
jump. Two weapons technicians brought us the bomb. The uranium timer was
already operating. The half life radiation clock would give the ignition
impulse in 6023 years. Mercant was getting nervous. "I don't think it's wise
for the leaders of both imperiums to place their lives in danger. Since we
left our own time on February 10th we don't know if you were still alive on
February 14-meaning today." "Mercant, don't get me al confused," Rhodan
snapped at him edgily. Obviously his sense of humour had failed him at the
moment. "By the same token I could just as well claim I've never lived. That
would be the case if something were to happen to us now, wouldn't
it?" Mercant turned to look helplessly at Kalup. The scientist said nothing.
He was busy studying the micro sound-tape of Epetran's conversation. "He
sounds like an oracle," Kalup said finally. "When you read between the lines
you can conclude almost anything. Wait till I get the analysis. At first try I
can't prove anything." "Request denied. We're teleporting. The bomb must be
placed in the Brain. Ready, Atlan?" I nodded. We had decided to dispense with
our pressure helmets. Breathable air would be available where we were
going. Once more I pointed out to the teleporters the remote power room where
I wanted to operate. I was familiar with it from my days as Imperator, since
at that time I had free access to the Brain. Then we jumped. 7/ A HITCH IN
TIME Rematerialisation occurred in a fair-sized room containing an
emergency-power reactor and a converter bank. Farther to the left were the
control panels which were connected to the pile by heavy cables. High tension
lines led through the thermically-glazed rock walls into an adjoining room
where the tanks containing pre-catalysts and nuclear fuel were located. There
were also the moderator pumps for dampening down the reactor with regulated
injections. I knew that the emergency power pile had never been called upon
for any current demands. I had found the place during my numerous inspection
tours and learned that its installation had been a useless
precaution. Typical of this type of construction, the whole assembly sat on a
shoulder-high foundation made of armourplate plastic metal. One wall was
broken by a maintenance hatch. Behind it was a passage through which one could
crawl to the cleanout access holes around the reactor zone. The hatch was no
more used than was the power unit itself. Here was the place for our bomb. It
could lie here undisturbed for over 6000 years, waiting for the impulse from
its uranium timer. Pucky took a look around in our immediate vicinity,
finding only several technicians making routine inspections. They were
checking out individual relays. The construction of the giant Robot had
required thousands of years. This particular reactor room must have been
completed about 20 years ago and there were no further installations being
done in this sector. The only thing we would have to fear would be detection
by a security patrol, which was unlikely. I turned off my deflector field.
The room was lighted by a permanently burning emergency lamp. We waited until
our eyes had adjusted to the dim illumination. It was warm and it became
uncomfortable in our combat suits but we didn't dare turn on our
air-conditioners. To avoid any danger of being traced by instruments it was
better if our micro-reactors could remain inactive. Their residual radiations
were enough to worry about. Pucky returned from another teleport jump. Ras
Tschubai stood at the closed steel door and listened for sounds
outside. "Everything clear," whispered the little one. He looked around
anxiously. "Nobody's there but those technicians." "Almost a little too easy,
eh?" remarked Rhodan. I thought of Epetran and Marshall's story. If the
learned scholar had seen through our game he was certainly reacting strangely.
Why hadn't he sounded an alarm? Or didn't he suspect what we were intending to
do? Had he merely regarded us as interesting visitors from the future who had
come to impart specific knowledge to him? No-Epetran was too shrewd not to
realize in that case that we must have come here to destroy his life's work?
Would he stand for that? I was helpless to find an answer. Finally my
extra-brain expressed itself. Granted that Epetran had guessed our origin, he
wouldn't be able to interpret our thoughts. He would have to rely on the
vagaries of machine analysis. This thought relieved me somewhat. At any rate
we hadn't been eliminated so far. No one seemed to suspect our presence down
here. Above us lay about 1000 meters of solid rock. The few access passages
were heavily guarded. If there were any hint of our presence, all the sentries
would have to do was to move in and attack. This was evidently not the case or
they would have come looking for us long before now. Rhodan's voice suddenly
tore me from my thoughts. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. I was
surprised to see that the Terran was suspicious of me. I could detect it in
his eyes. He had always looked this way at other intelligences when he doubted
their intentions. "You Terran barbarian," I retorted angrily, "are you
thinking perhaps that I‹ll lose my nerve at the last minute? Will you never
learn any better?" The Chief of the Solar Imperium suddenly grinned with the
ingenuousness of one of his youngest cadets. Pucky showed his incisor tooth
brightly. "Now he's acting human again!" I released the cylindrical bomb from
its carrying straps. Rhodan held it while I opened the maintenance hatch.
After I had crawled in, he handed it to me and I attached it to the plastic
metal wall with instant-grip fasteners. To check it over would have been
superfluous. The weapon was sealed. There was nothing more to attend to here.
I carefully emerged from the crawl-way and closed the hatch. Pucky was
listening telepathically for thoughts impulses from outside. "Almost too easy
to be true, sir," said Ras Tschubai. "Is that all?" I nodded. "Then let's
jump back," ordered Rhodan. "We can't wait here for 6000 years." He attempted
to laugh but it didn't have the desired effect. Pucky ran to me and I picked
him up in my arms. It was the best way for the two of us to teleport. "Are
you sure the reactor definitely won't be inspected?" asked Rhodan again. He
had often asked this question. I couldn't tell him any more than I had
previously. The power pile had never been used. The main reactors had never
failed. Ras suddenly groaned and I realized why too late. He and Rhodan were
standing several meters away. Before I understood why they both started to
collapse I was also attacked by a wave of pain. Pucky screeched and I felt his
legs tremble. I felt as if fluid fire were running through my veins. I
squatted down and let the little fellow roll onto the floor. After 3 seconds
it was all over with. The pain faded as swiftly as it had come. Rhodan's
reaction was to reach for his weapon immediately. My eyes finally cleared and
I was about to ask what happened when Ras let out another groan. His eyes were
fairly popping as he stared beyond me. When I turned, I knew why. The
emergency power reactor had changed. Its isolation shielding jacket which had
just been so immaculate was now stained and spotted. Here and there were
cracks and other signs of decay. A thick layer of dust was on the floor and
the equipment. I jumped up. Rhodan was already on his feet. Pucky was still
squirming on the floor. "How can a new reactor become a pile of junk in 3
seconds?" asked Rhodan. His voice sounded hoarse. I declined to answer, since
we both knew. "It's-it's the time field!" stammered Tschubai, horrified.
"Sir, we've gotten out of the conversion field. The machine has stopped
working." I helped Pucky to his feet. His mouse face was contorted in a
grimace of uncertainty. "The field is gone," he confirmed. "I'm getting many
impulses. We're back in our own time again. But the bomb-!" I whirled about
to look as the hatch that I had just closed. Just closed? Perry reassured
us. "Don't get excited. We left the Sotala on February 14. We haven't spent
more than an hour here. We still have 20 hours." His last words were drowned
out by a nerve-shattering howl. Outside the alarm sirens were sounding. The
Regent had detected us. For 6000 years it had been a harmless machine. Now we
had to get used to the idea again that it had begun to deteriorate due to the
tampering with its A-1 circuits. Pucky had calmed himself. I took him up in
my arms once more. Rhodan took a firm hold of Ras Tschubai. "Where to?" asked
the teleporter confidently. He was accustomed to eluding his enemies through
the paramental planes. I hesitated. Where could we go? If the time-phaser had
ceased functioning, then the cruiser would also be in the present time. That
meant a battle which would sooner or later lead to the destruction of the
ship. There was no other explanation for our sudden return to our own time.
The machine must have failed. Whether by accident or plan was immaterial just
now. "Our target is the Sotala," Rhodan decided. "Then we'll see what we
should do." I waited for the dematerialisation but it did not occur. Pucky
began to tremble. His eyes seemed to grow dim. Ras Tschubai staggered so that
Rhodan had to support him. I felt gooseflesh come over me. "Pucky...
!" "Antis!" he exclaimed. "Antis are close by somewhere! I can't
concentrate-they absorb my psi. Atlan, I can't jump!" Tschubai confirmed it.
I didn't ask any more questions. We knew that the Akons had the support of the
Baalol priests. Their mental emanations negated the mutants'
para-faculties. I pulled my minicom set from my equipment belt and turned it
on. I sent out a distress call on the hyper-frequency band of the Fleet. We
had found that the Brain's honeycomb screen could be penetrated by relatively
weak hyperwaves. If the radio experts of the Sotala were alert they would hear
me. Of course that depended on whether or not the cruiser had actually
returned to present time. We listened breathlessly. Pucky detected a few
brain impulses, then nothing more. So the Antis were also closing in on us.
The Sotala did not answer but in its place we heard a strange voice. It was a
time announcement in English. Someone was broadcasting on our
frequency. "Ironduke-it is now 11:43, 15 February 2106... !" The message
was continuously repeated except that the time of day kept changing. I tensed,
hardly noting Rhodan's sudden grip. "The 15th of February, sir," said Ras,
nonplussed. "The bomb will explode in less than 17 minutes!" "But-we came out
of the ship on the 14th," protested Rhodan. "The conversion table-" "Was
wrong," I interrupted him. "The time-phaser doesn't work as precisely as we
assumed. Friend, I'm getting nervous." He released his grip on my arm. Pucky
announced that his psi faculties had surrendered completely. A merciless enemy
waited for us outside. We exchanged glances. In a basic sense it made little
difference to us which way we would die if it were going to happen. Perhaps an
energy beam might be easier to contemplate than being caught up in the sun-hot
concussion of a 50-megaton explosion. "We'll use the emergency exit. All
set?" We turned on our individual defence screens. They were strong enough to
absorb the impact of hand weapons fire although a robot shot might be
dangerous. The deflector screens made us invisible. When I pulled down my
absorption filter I could again see my companions. Ras opened the emergency
door in the rear of the chamber. Beyond it was a dimly-lit corridor. There was
still no one in sight. The hypercom message of the Ironduke was still giving
the countdown. It was now 11:46... 8/ FROM THE TOMB OF THE AGES Our
deflector screens were machine-generated. Even the mental capacities of the
Antis were not sufficient for them to detect these light-diverting lines of
energy. This had been our last hope but then the Akon technicians appeared
with their electronic sensors, which homed in on our micro-reactors. The
famous Terran radiation-absorption features of our suits proved to be useless.
It could not be denied that the Akons were masters of an outstanding
technology. Arkonides were not in evidence, which was a sign that the men of
the Blue System had already suppressed my people. We found ourselves in a
lengthy hall that I had never seen before. It was an impossibility to get a
perspective of this labyrinth of passages and rooms without a construction
plan. Also our orientation was all the more difficult because of the complex
system of levels. Many of the long chambers were split by 2 to 3 mezzanine
decks. I was lying behind a master relay cabinet from which thick cable
conduits led to other switching units. The deep humming sound behind the
housing panels indicated that the Regent was working at full power. It seemed
to have activated all auxiliary sections. The lighting here was very
inadequate. We could hardly see the flitting shadows of our attackers although
thousands of indicator and parity lamps were flickering on and off. It caused
a confusion of vision which was unpleasant. Rhodan was crouched a few meters
away behind the base of a transformer. Its rumbling sound covered our
whisperings. I noted that he was carrying his heavy impulse beamer over his
shoulder. So far we had not used our hand weapons. The Antis' defence screens
were reinforced by their mental abilities and were not normally penetrable. We
had not brought along any of the new combination "persuaders" which had been
designed to combat the Baalols. No one had foreseen that we might be fighting
the mysterious priests. I saw a figure at the end of an aisle. Its outlines
seemed to flow and change, which was proof that the god-priest had fully
activated his screen. It would be useless to bring him under fire. I checked
my watch which I had synchronized with the Fleet's countdown broadcast so that
I would know when the moment of destruction would come. The tolerance limit of
the uranium timer lay between plus or minus 3 minutes. I was hoping for a
breakdown of the bomb's ignition system, which I knew could not happen. I was
startled by a thundering sound nearby. Ras Tschubai had fired his weapon. The
white-hot glow of a thermo-beam lit up the dim twilight around us. Somebody
yelled out piercingly and I saw an Arkon stumble out from behind a bursting
bank of equipment. I did not shoot although he was apparently only wounded.
Two Antis dragged him to cover behind a stack of memory banks. Ras changed
his position. The enemy's greenish weapon beams struck back. Wherever they hit
the material was converted to dust. The Regent sounded more alarms. Whenever
any part of the installations was destroyed a new battery of sirens became
activated. Rhodan jumped across the aisle and threw himself down beside me.
"Let's go back to those mezzanine stairs. We'll work our way to the surface,"
he said. "Are you ready?" I beckoned to Pucky and Ras. Then we ran for it. In
that moment the spot I had left was hit by a disintegrator beam. The relay
cabinet collapsed under it and meter-long sparks shot out of the cabling and
connector housings. The bedlam of sirens increased so that it didn't matter if
we shouted to each other. Ahead we saw the stairs. Rhodan yelled at us to take
cover once more and we followed his advice. Our battle tactics developed a
set pattern within minutes. We would risk opening fire and then quickly change
our location. It always took a new space of time for the Akon sensor equipment
to pick up our trail again. I figured we had a good chance as long as they
didn't get the idea of concentrating exclusively on our gun muzzles whenever
we opened fire. But for that it would be necessary to open a frontal attack,
backed up by many marksmen in the background. We would then be thrown on the
defensive and it would make it still easier for them to fire at our blazing
muzzles. I knew it wouldn't be long before the Akons started applying such
logic to their tactics. We were now communicating by hand signals. Pucky made
it clear that we were surrounded. In the rear of the hall the Regent's combat
robots were showing up. They appeared to have been guided to our position by
radio. If necessary they could also track us with their own sensor equipment.
But by this time it made little difference to me. On a signal from Rhodan we
all began firing again. I shot blindly at the robot Brain's installations. I
jumped forward a few meters and opened fire anew. The racket of our energy
weapons was greater than that of the alarms. Irreplaceable circuit banks
exploded while flying fragments damaged still other equipment. After this
onslaught we gambled everything on one last manoeuvre. When our abandoned
positions were attacked and the smoke clouds obscured the opposition's
visibility, we turned on our antigravs and rose above the floor. After
adjusting my equipment for negative weight, I placed my hand against the low
ceiling and crept along like a fly toward the stairwell opening." "Stop!"
yelled Rhodan. I had braced my feet against one of the landings but drew them
back as the robots brought the spiral stairs under fire. We held onto several
refrigeration pipes to keep from being blasted away by the shockwaves. Glowing
fragments hammered against the pipes and equipment nearby. Where the stairs
had been was a bubbling mass of synthetic metal. Our defence screens reflected
the heat so we were able to dart up through the opening into the next
level. One storey below us everything seemed to be in confusion. The thunder
of the robot weapons went on incessantly. Stifling gases shot up out of the
stairwell opening. "They're shooting at the Antis," yelled Ras. "Where next?
They're giving us a breather!" "From here on we fly," I shouted back. "They
haven't found out yet that we're on antigravs. Onward! Keep looking for other
overhead openings. Somewhere there must be a way out. Don't fire unless we're
under specific attack. They may try to force us to show where we are by
keeping up random firing, hoping we'll answer back." Pucky discovered the
next opening. Another staircase led upward. We glided through the stairwell
gap and arrived in an arched, dome-like chamber which contained the main
register banks for a principal memory extension. In these units billions of
pieces of data were stored for retrieval. Just as we thought we were
reasonably safe we were tracked again. Pucky picked up a few thought impulses
but they faded away immediately. The Antis were everywhere. They seemed to be
exerting every possible effort to counteract the paramental faculties of the
mutants. Then we were finally surrounded. The combat robots and Akon forces
appeared simultaneously. I managed to check my watch at that moment and saw
that it was 12:04-the 15th of February, 2106. We could no longer hear the
warning countdown from the Fleet of the Ironduke. An interference transmitter
had come in on the same frequency. All I could hear in my minicom speaker was
a faint high squeal. We let ourselves sink to the floor and took cover behind
some equipment racks. Rhodan resignedly hung his heavier weapon over his
shoulder and then stared at my watch. The explosion would have to come at any
moment. Somebody fired up ahead. Robot weapons pay much attention to the
shockwaves anymore. I stiffened with alarm when I heard a terrible roaring
sound. Ras threw himself to the floor and grasped an upright support. We
waited for death but it did not come. The sound increased its volume. The
cyclonic howling was not quite like a nuclear explosion. It was as if a
hurricane had been unleashed in the labyrinths of the robot
Regent. Tschubai's dark countenance was twisted with tension. Rhodan had
grasped both my shoulders. We kept on listening. The shooting had been
silenced. Underneath us the floor was shaking. Here and there shockwaves shot
through the armoured hatches of the exits. The Regent was opening all its
doors. It was obvious that the Brain was being destroyed even though our bomb
had not detonated. We looked at each other in amazement. Pucky raised up. He
listened with his head cocked on one side. Then he cried out: "I'm getting a
message! The Antis are dead or they're pulling back." "Can you jump now?"
asked Rhodan. There was a spark of hope in his eyes. "No, not yet. Watch it!
Somebody's coming! He's sending thoughts on a para-plane. He says: 'Don't
shoot-I come as a friend.' It keeps repeating itself, the same words...
" Even though annihilation was raging through every other area, in our
chamber it was still. No machines exploded, except that the memory banks
ceased their humming. They had suddenly died out. A strange object appeared
in the connecting passageway. It was a coupled vehicle that slithered its way
toward us on tractor treads. "The transmitter!" cried Pucky excitedly. We
waited until the thing stopped in front of us. The side panel fell open,
revealing seats inside. I recognized it as being an inspection vehicle.
However, this particular one appeared to be of special design. I didn't
hesitate any longer. In this situation it didn't matter what avenue we turned
to. I entered the passenger cabin, sat down abruptly and waited for the others
to join me. When they had all come inside, the panel closed. The inspector
car was completely automatic. In front of us a viewscreen lit up. I tensed
suddenly when I recognized the features of Epetran. His smile was genuine. All
of his mysterious inscrutability had vanished. The speaker crackled and his
voice was unmistakable. "This is a visitape which I prepared after the visit
of Your Excellencies, Imperator Gonozal VIII and Solar Administrator Perry
Rhodan. I won't be able to work out the principle of the time-converter since
my life is too short now. Although I perceived from probing your minds with
the mento-monitor where you come from and what you intend, after studying the
future I have decided to set up a self-destruct program for the Regent in case
it should become influenced by alien powers in a way that is against the
interests of the Empire. Thus I am placing the destiny of the Greater Empire
in the hands of Your Highnesses." Epetran fell silent while bowing his head.
Rhodan had turned pale. "The special vehicle your crew detected in front of
the Sotala was able to mento-monitor you also. The results proved to me that
you have spared yourselves neither dangers nor difficulties in your efforts to
preserve the stellar empire in accordance with the ancient traditions. Your
thoughts are known to me. I am informed concerning the situation of your own
time. When you hear this tape you will be back again in your own plane of
reference. In order to hasten that process, shortly after you entered the
Brain I had the simulated Sotala towed to another part of the landing area. I
know that this will place Your Excellencies in danger but I have found no
other solution. This robot vehicle has been exclusively designed to bring you
and your companions to safety. It is with painful regret that I must destroy
my life's work. I took the liberty of removing the time bomb from the base of
the reactor. In its place the robot Brain was furnished with an extra safety
circuit which would be activated when you arrived-you, the rightful Imperator
with truth in your heart and risking life itself in the cause of the Empire.
This has now occurred-the 'Insanity Circuit' has taken over. The Regent will
self-destruct. I thank you for the new data concerning transition technology.
I send greetings to the true friends of the Imperium. What will happen
henceforth in your own era is unknown to me. I could only follow your thoughts
as far as February of your year 2106. Take now the heritage of your ancestors.
I have done my best." The voice became silent and the picture vanished. I
cried out imploringly, speaking the name of the old scientist, but he did not
appear again. Rhodan had to shake me by the arm before I regained control of
myself. Now we knew what that monitor vehicle had been up to. Marshall's
guess had been correct. Rhodan and I had been scanned again during our visit
without our knowing it. By the time we said goodbye to Epetran he had already
become informed concerning events of the future millenniums. He had been wise
enough not to destroy the Regent beforehand because otherwise he would have
changed the course of history. Instead he had chosen our planned date of
February 15th as the key point of destiny. The experience left me shaken.
Only now could we fully perceive the man's greatness. What other scientist of
the era of Tutmor VI would have been able to make such wide-ranging decisions?
Epetran had overlooked nothing. We, the visitors from the future, had been
recognized by him. The chain of related factors was mind-staggering. We, the
intelligences of the advanced present, had to marvel at the genius of the old
man. While we were still trying to figure how we could escape from Arkon 3, he
had already worked out a 6000-year plan. The rumblings and thunderings were
still going on outside. Our vehicle traversed unknown halls. After taking an
antigravitor upwards it finally brought us to the surface inside an armoured
dome. The journey was ended. We got out. The steel gates of the dome stood
wide open. Before us lay the central spaceport which we had walked upon in
another time. There was nothing to be seen of the Sotala. Epetran had caused
it to be taken to another location. With the increasing distance we had come
out of the zone of influence of the time-conversion field. The expedient had
been correct even though it had placed our lives in danger. Apparently the
old man had wanted to be positive of the results. If the Regent had not been
tampered with by the Akons it would not have activated its own self-destruct
circuit. Epetran could not have installed a better security factor for testing
the veracity of our thoughts long after his death. There were thousands of
robot spaceships on the landing field but they had become inactive. Beneath us
the ground was still rumbling. The "Insanity Circuit" must have reached out to
all sectors of the Regent at once. It meant the total inactivation of the
robot fleet as well as the remote-controlled defence fortresses, automated
industries and supplies and everything else. At the moment the Imperium had
become a scrap heap without the slightest ability to defend itself. We waited
under cover of the armoured dome. Here and there the ground cracked and
fissured as machines exploded below. I thought I must be dreaming. Operation
"Last Ditch" had come to an end. The Akons and Antis on Arkon 3 had lost the
battle. Without the Regent they were more helpless than before. Rhodan put
out a call to the Sotala, which produced an immediate response. The crew had
returned to present time. "Heintz here, sir. We are attacking an Akon ship
but give us your tracking coordinates." Minutes later there was a distant
clap of thunder. A dark point suddenly expanded until it burst into a
sun-bright explosion. Then we made out the outlines of the Sotala. It came
tumbling down toward the ground in our direction. After grazing a robot
battleship it bounced to a stop. The lower section was in flames. The cruiser
must have received a heavy hit. Rhodan stared as if entranced toward the West
where the planet's atmosphere was beginning to vibrate with rising thunders.
The Terran superbattleships were the first to appear. With titanic force they
attacked the spaceships of the Akons and the Antis. An hour later the central
spaceport was swarming with Terran landing troops. After another emergency
call we were picked up by Bell. The most daring operation in recent history
had been completed. Terra's fleet was circling within the Arkon System. All
resistance was crushed. Arkonide officials were removed from their offices.
Akons and Antis were captured. It had all been a fantastic conquest. If the
Regent had still been in existence, unquestionably the whole thing would have
developed into a war of extinction. 20,000 paralysed robotships were manned
by Terran space troops. Large contingents of the fleet were already hurtling
into space in order to also appropriate the units which had been posted there
by the Regent. We stood before the gutted wreck of the false Sotala. In the
decisive action, 82 Terrans had lost their lives. And the 4 Akon scientists
were dead. And... And-! My eyes avoided Perry, nor could I trust myself to
speak to him. What, under the saddest of circumstances, was there to say? I
knew he must be undergoing a terrible emotional trauma. For though no one
could ever replace Thora in his affections, could ever fill the vacuum created
by her untimely death; and though Auris of Las Toot had not yet joined his
side officially; still a strong male-female bond had developed between the
Peacelord and the Lady of Las Toor. A chemical attraction heighened by
spiritual affinity that, givena different timetrack into a more compassionate
parallel world, could have eventuated in-who knows what? Very likely a second
marriage for Perry. Perhaps a more satisfactory son. A delightful daughter
with her mother's emerald eyes. But the emerald emanations had faded from
those flashing eyes, now. Laughter would no longer spring from the smooth
soft throat. The magnetic thrill of her accidental electric touch had
died. Auris was dead, her spirit fled from the holocaust of the conflagration
loosed in the last moments of the disintegrating cruiser. Well... Perry would
have to hnd his inner peace in his own time and in his own way. In the
meantime, I was deeply relieved when I heard one piece of good news: the
time-converter had been destroyed by the fatal hit. At least the uncanny
machine would never be employed again. The commander of forces landing on
Arkon 1 advised over intercom that the mad Imperator Carba had fallen in the
battle with the robot guards of the Crystal Palace. I hardly paid any
attention to this news. The heatwaves emerging from the Sotala, singed my
hair. We waited a long time until the chief of the rescue troops came and
regretfully shrugged his shoulders. There was no trace to be found of Auris
and the Akons. I went with Perry to the Ironduke. We were only accompanied by
John Marshall. I had briefly given him the basic import of Epetran's message
to us but he had only nodded in silence. Jefe Claudr{was waiting for us at
the ground lock. Reginald Bell had already taken off with a fleet
unit, intent upon taking over the patrol cruisers of the Arkonide Home Fleet.
From now on Terra would be strong-stronger than ever before. For the time
being I refrained from asking what position I was to hold in the future.
Probably I would have to take over the teetering Empire. I didn't want to
think of the impending revolts on the colonial planets. Time alone would tell
whether or not Terra and Arkon could be welded together into a single
entity. Rhodan withdrew to his cabin. blarshall and I remained standing under
the mammoth hull of the Ironduke. Major Heintz came and joined us. I made no
reproaches for his attack on the fleeing Akons. "I'm sorry, sir," he said.
"is there anything you want to know?" "Yes. When did you get the order to
move your location?" "About 40 minutes after you'd gone on the mission. We
were flanked by 2 battleships. An antigrav tender towed us to the other end of
the field. It would have been senseless to shut off the time-phaser. We didn't
know if you had planted the bomb yet or not." "Thanks. That's all I wanted to
know. You'd better get yourself to a doctor." He saluted and went away. I
looked once more at the vast spaceport. More than 500,000 Terrans had come in
the transports. Now they were taking over the ships of the Imperium. Who would
have imagined this in the late 20th century when a man named Perry Rhodan flew
to Earth's moon in a primitive rocket? I also went to my cabin. It was time
to surrender to my need for sleep. As I closed my eyes I thought of the great
councillor Epetran. He had saved the Imperium-not I... The End
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