by Leo Lukas
"Ladies and gentlemen, Admiral Mechtan tan Taklir!"
The Takhan basked in the standing ovation that accompanied his exit. As soon as he stepped out of the teleporter into the hunting lodge, he asked Aykalie, "Well, how was I?"
She gestured to the Syntron, which was displaying the current survey results as an inset on the screen. Mechtan enjoyed an approval rating of a projected nearly 80 percent of the population. "Brilliant. Two or three more appearances like that, and you'll be guaranteed a seat on the Ruling Council, Grandpa."
"I'd have to be out of my mind to want to have to bother with that aggravation in my old age. Already been asked anyway. Referred them to somebody younger, and they happily agreed."
"You don't mean ... "
"Jars or Achab, right. I don't care which, actually. Let them sort it out between themselves."
Uh oh, Aykalie thought. Her husband and her lover in direct competition for a seat on the Council—this could be interesting.
8
Gilded Cages (and How to Escape from Them)
The scouts returned and described the situation to the central computer. A few seconds later she set her armies on the march. The conquerors poured forth like a red flood, many millions of them, towards the edge of the enemy's territory.
Euler gloated. Equipping, scouting, and devising an expansion strategy had taken less time than ever. An unmistakable sign that his royal house had learned from the disaster of the last war. He himself had not been idle. He had subjected the genetic as well as the bio-cybernetic programs to a further fine-tuning. He had also heavily mined numerous sectors of his own frontier areas in order to bring the inevitable counterattack to a screeching halt as soon as possible.
At first it appeared as though that hadn't been at all necessary. The red troops, stronger than ever, slaughtered everything that got in their way. Concentrated in groups of a thousand each, they traversed the empty space with incredible speed and threw themselves recklessly at the enemy bastions. They didn't take any prisoners. What they didn't destroy in the initial attack, they plundered immediately afterwards down to the last bit of raw material. They struck deep breaches in the defenders' formations and soon approached the white citadel in a pincer attack.
This isn't a battle, it's a massacre, Euler thought in satisfaction. Only to grow suspicious in the next moment. Actually, that went a little too easily ...
And WHAM came the counterstrike! What the scouts, the central computer, and even Euler himself had taken to be the citadel turned out to be a decoy for a deliberate, large-scale trap. The White Queen wasn't there at all, but instead a black hole, a gravity sink like this microverse had never seen before! Euler's hordes disappeared in its pull faster than he could blink. Two thirds were gone before the central computer finally reacted and sounded the retreat. The remaining third found themselves surrounded by forces outnumbering them. Due to their superiority in unit versus unit combat, they managed to break through, though at the cost of high losses. Then half of what remained were the victims of their own minefields. The Citadel could no longer be defended by the pathetic remnants.
"Okay, okay—that's enough. I give up!"
Euler threw the towel—terrycloth, red with white dots—in the direction of his opponent. Pi caught it, used it to wipe the sweat from her forehead and neck, and came towards Euler, dancing and swinging her hips. "Still haven't learned, have you, dear?"
He stuck his tongue out at her. The defeat angered him, even more because of the consequences that resulted from it. Along with the overtime he had to put in as a result of the last fiasco, he now had to do all the cooking, dishwashing, and trash removal for two weeks.
"That's mean," he sulked. "And somehow unfair. With all my work, I won't have a chance in the next 14 days to do any enhancements on my people. You, however, can devote yourself completely to your stupid Whites and lie on your lazy heinie in the bargain!"
"Yes, my dear, that's what they call the fortunes of war. The winner gets everything, period. Be happy that I accepted your surrender at all. I could have swept your Reds out of the microverse without any resistance!"
"Grmblbmbl."
Pi pulled his grimacing face down to hers and gave him a kiss. "Don't take it so hard. I love you anyway, even if you're a strategic washout. Your other gifts are far more important to me."
He returned the kiss, then suddenly licked the tip of her nose. She hated that and squealed in outrage.
"Risk a fat lip, get a wet nose."
She stabbed him in the ribs with her index finger, which he countered with a Dagor hold. Shrieking, they wrestled through half the station until they landed out of breath in the rest cabin.
A warning signal sounded.
Oh come on, not now! Euler thought, letting go of Pi's bra. The reconciliation after a war was usually the best part, often even nicer than the bloodbath before.
"You're on duty," Pi reminded him with a grin. She crossed her arms behind her head and purred happily.
"As if I didn't know!" He frowned, smoothed his clothing, and shuffled into the reception room. How did she manage it, anyhow? he wondered, racking his brains. A few scouts can be duped, sure, but all of them at once? And without my queen catching on? That bitch must have developed new neurotransmitters and nano-modules! And that gravity trap on top of everything—typical female cunning!
The warning buzz sounded again, louder and more penetrating.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"
What rankled him the most was that now he would automatically fall further behind. Since each defeat meant new tasks that his partner unloaded on him, he had to think of something really good soon if he wanted to break out of this vicious circle.
At least you won't be bored ...
That had been their biggest worry when he and Pi took over this remote post right after finishing their training. That all alone, with only each other and no one else, they could get on each other's nerves as they went through the same motions day after day. Their instructors had warned them. "Your excellent final grades count for little in such a situation," they had said, "and neither do your youth and new love. As important as this secret base is for the Terran League Service, the isolation can wear you down. It's very possible that during the entire three years, nothing, absolutely nothing, will interrupt the daily routine. So take measures in advance against cabin fever, or else ... "
Now, Pi and Euler Fullop had gotten through more than half of their assignment in good shape. It didn't look as though the remaining 502 days would be any more of a problem. As they had hoped and feared, nothing significant had happened in the Blue System—as it was still called even though the defensive force field that gave it its name was long gone. Not from the standpoint of the two-person crew of OUTLOOK XVIII, as the TLS station was officially designated. The agents just called it the "AotU," with "ot" standing for "of the" and "U" for "Universe." They were situated on Merzon, the outermost planet of the system and a bleak methane giant. It followed its elliptical orbit so far from Akon that even that star could not begin to warm it, although Akon was very bright and hot, 250 million kilometers in diameter or 180 percent of Sol. OUTLOOK XVIII was tiny, not much more than a scout ship permanently submerged in Merzon's liquid gas layers. It had been adapted so that it could operate in this extreme environment with the least, and therefore virtually undetectable, expenditure of energy. Entering and departing the secret station was possible only by means of a teleporter. Other than for the not exactly luxurious accommodations for the two agents on duty, it basically consisted only of that thoroughly shielded teleporter, the machinery that maintained it, and the life-support systems. At irregular but very long intervals, a camouflaged TLS ship appeared in order to bring supplies or replacement agents. Since the Akonians were rightly regarded as the Galaxy's leading experts in the field of teleportation technology and had extremely advanced detection systems at their disposal, shipments were made as seldom as possible. For the same reason, the crew was condemned to
sitting it out in their cramped quarters. True, it was possible to connect to the Akonian teleporter network from here—which was of course the base's actual purpose and the sole justification for its existence. Even so, that was limited to emergency situations. While the danger of being detected was slight, it still couldn't be ignored.
That was what made this post so irritating. That the vibrant center of the Akonian empire, the fifth planet Drorah—once called Sphinx by the Terrans—and its Mercury-sized moon Xolyar—alias Ramses—was only one step away. Under normal circumstances though, that step could not be taken.
The two hermits who had been assigned here had to content themselves with waiting. With maintaining the systems and waiting ... yes, waiting.
Pi and Euler had been waiting for almost 600 days. So far with relatively little harm, as they reminded each other every morning over their meager breakfast. They had followed the advice of their trainers and mentors, and depended on neither the station's comprehensive, miniaturized media-theque nor on the joys of physical love. Limited in their baggage, they had only been able to bring a mutual hobby on board: a strategy game that they had developed themselves during their studies and wanted to perfect further here. Two sides fought against each other based on the classics Go, Chess, and Garrabo. However, the opponents consisted of cybernetically enhanced micro-organisms, of viruses, to which a hierarchical structure similar to that of many insect races had been added. The players had only indirect opportunities for intervention, mainly during times of peace. Which never lasted very long ... This was how Pi and Euler worked out all their differences of opinion. And not only was the duty schedule determined by the results, the winner could also have any sexual desire granted.
Euler Fullop sighed. In that respect, too, he was considerably behind at the moment ...
The buzzing grew more insistent. Still, Euler didn't hurry. OUTLOOK XVIII's passive detection system hadn't registered any significant blips for some time. Just recently they had detected a whole series of teleportations at the edge of the system, some 48 in all. Judging by the energy expenditure, the destination was almost certainly Drorah. Some crew on shore leave. That kind of thing happened frequently: the Akonians traditionally kept spaceship traffic within their home system to a minimum.
The young agent trotted into the reception room and came abruptly wide awake when he saw the message on the display.
A high-level Terran code advised of a transport and requested confirmation. Unscheduled! Euler didn't need to consult his official data file to confirm that. He would have been able to recite the two scheduled dates by heart at any time: 17 October 1327, supply shipment—and 3 September 1328, relief. That was in precisely one year, four months, three weeks, and four days.
So this transport was the sensation of the year! Euler felt his heartbeat accelerate. His fingers flying, he reviewed every detail of the call sign with utmost care. You never knew. Only when there was absolutely no doubt that it was a genuine TLS authorization did he give permission for the transport.
The arch of light flared up. A humanoid figure materialized, solidified in a fraction of second. Euler's excitement increased beyond measuring.
A visitor!
The first living person that TLS-agent Euler Fullop had seen face to face other than his life-partner Pi in over a year and a half ...
... was Perry Rhodan.
"My name is Achab ta Mentec," the officer introduced himself. "Some of you already know me. I belong to the Seventh Fleet and have been assigned to collect any and all information concerning the star arks, no matter how remote the connection. To that end, I request your cooperation."
The sterile, windowless conference room into which the armed soldiers had politely but firmly escorted the crew of the LAS-TOOR did not offer Solina Tormas the slightest clue as to where they had ended up. Whether they really were on Drorah or, say, on board a ship could not be determined. She was, however, probably correct in the assumption that they found themselves in a military installation of some kind.
"It won't take long," continued ta Mentec, who wore the rank insignia of a Maphan. "You will very soon be able to relax under the rays of our home sun. In order not to keep you here any longer than necessary, the debriefing will be carried out with avatars. Please don't hold back from mentioning even details that seem utterly unimportant to you. Report every little thing that occurred to you, whether on board your research vessel or in the course of external activity. When put together, anything could have an importance in the overall context that we can't conceive of at present. As soon as we've taken your statement, you can go planetside. Yes, Captain?"
"What if we'd rather go back to the LAS-TOOR?" Jere tan Balloy called.
"I regret to say that I don't have any influence on that. This procedure has been ordered by the Fleet commander. I can't promise anything. I can only appeal to your loyalty to Akon."
How much of that do I have left? Solina asked herself. The adventures that we experienced together with Perry Rhodan and the Terrans have shaken so many of our formerly rock-solid convictions to the core.
Apart from that, she at least identified with Akon, though not with its political system, which was still strongly bound up with the nobility. The representatives of that class that she had so far encountered in her life had given her little reason to. For the military, in turn, she cherished a hearty dislike. Like Jere tan Baloy, she was of the opinion that the Akonian Empire had been restricted in its development for millennia by the military-industrial budget's astronomically high expenditures. Solina also shared her captain's allergy to uniforms and military attitudes. Still, she had to give this Maphan ta Mentec credit for making an effort to avoid barking orders like a sergeant. Instead he showed proper courtesy and even some charm.
"I thank you in my name and in that of the Space Fleet for your understanding," he said. "Each of you, please take a seat in one of the cabins."
Behind him, the wall that had apparently consisted of shaped energy disappeared, giving a view of a long corridor that resembled a hotel hallway. Doors opened to the left and right at short intervals.
Shrugging, Jere tan Balloy led the way. The crew members individually entered the cabins, which were not much larger than hygiene cells. Two chairs and a small table filled the room almost completely. Solina sat down in one chair, and an avatar appeared immediately in the other one. Without technical means, it was impossible to distinguish the holographic projection from its original.
"Would you like something to drink?" the avatar asked, crossing its legs.
"No thanks. I'd just like to get out of here as fast as possible."
Achab ta Mentec's double smiled engagingly. "That's up to you. If I may give you a tip, the more time you allow yourself and the more relaxed you approach the matter, the sooner we'll be finished."
In other words, Solina thought, in case you prove to be stubborn, I'll just torture you all the longer. "Our captain has already submitted a written summary that also includes my account along with technical reports."
"A captivatingly formulated and masterfully informative document," Achab praised. "Still, I'd like to ask you to describe everything to me again in your own words."
The hairs on the back of Solina's neck stiffened as she realized that she had just tried to argue with a Syntronically controlled projection. She cleared her throat and began to tell her story. The avatar listened with interest, more patiently than most men Solina knew. He occasionally asked questions, first when she described how they had entered the NETHACK ACHTON.
"Did one of your ships receive a hypercom signal at that point in time?"
"Now that you mention it ... yes. Alemaheyu Kossa, the PALENQUE's communications officer, said something about it. How did you know?"
"Did he determine the source of this signal?"
"Kossa said his ship's Syntron classified it as a natural phenomenon of the Ochent Nebula. He himself is convinced, however, that the signal was of artificial origin and came fr
om the ark. Although that is completely impossible, since hypercom is based on five-dimensional technology and the ark's technical level was far below that. And ... oh, yes, an identical signal originated from a piece of the stranded LEMCHA OVIR's wreckage."
"Have you or the Terrans, and Rhodan in particular, investigated the phenomenon."
"No, we didn't have an opportunity to. Why?"
"When the ACHATI UMA was first boarded, a similar mysterious signal was registered. We have been searching since then for the transmitter, but nothing has been found yet. You are certain that Perry Rhodan has not undertaken anything in connection with this, and has expressed no intentions or conjectures?"
"No. I mean, yes, I'm fairly certain of it. We were more than busy enough elsewhere."
"Please continue your story."
That Solina did. When she came to the point where the data storage unit from the LEMCHA OVIR was salvaged, she hesitated. Should she inform ta Mentec that Rhodan had learned the history of the arks? When they found out that the mysterious Levian Paronn had been on board the ACHATI UMA and was probably still there, would the Maphan and his superiors deny Rhodan entrance to the generation ship?
Achab's holographic representative saved her from having to make a decision as to whom she should be more loyal: her own national military or a Terran who had always stood for the greater good of all. The avatar tilted his head as though listening to an inner voice, then casually said, "Your first officer Echkal cer Lethir just stated that you had indications that an extremely important Lemurian personage might be on board the ACHATI UMA—a biologically immortal Cell Activator carrier. Does that agree with the facts?"
Solina swallowed. She should have known! The Syntronic avatar was of course in contact with all 47 of his "colleagues": they continuously compared the results of the individual hearings, and when there was a suggestion that someone was hiding something, they drilled ruthlessly after it.
