The First Immortal

by Leo Lukas

  The Beasts' space-spheres raced past at high velocity, broke formation, and turned to attack once again from three different directions. Rhodan's voice resounded from the com system: "Just like at Kaarjon, Tolotos!"

  He didn't say any more, but the Halutian remembered and understood. They had been approaching the fourth planet at a moderate speed. Now he gave his ship full thrust, using all twelve impulse engines at the HALUTE's lower pole area. The ship accelerated almost from a standing start at more than 900 kilometers per second squared. He even risked briefly weakening the shield layers to supply more energy to the sublight drive's Metagrav storage cells. His ship all but leaped at the enemy spacecraft, and on its present course it would plunge exactly between the flight-paths of two of them. He was not yet close enough to get off an effective shot. Still, he fired his six multi-variable, high-energy cannon continuously—two each in pulse, thermal, and disintegration modes. He wanted to show what he was capable of doing.

  Meanwhile, the PALENQUE had also picked up speed, although at a sublight acceleration of only about 300 kilometers per second squared. It seemed to want to escape, cowardly leaving its attacked fellow ships in the lurch. The third Beast ship was the most distant and it was moving to block the PALENQUE's path. Despite the extreme range of the enemy vessel, the Terran ship launched MVH fire from four ridiculously ineffective sublight-disintegration ray cannons.

  The Beasts, who had still not made any effort to communicate over the hypercom, reacted just as Rhodan had hoped. They behaved exactly like the very different but similarly superior attackers that Rhodan and Icho Tolot had fought many centuries before. From the aggressors' viewpoint, the situation must have looked like this: a ship on the opposing side had already been hit and was ripe for a point-blank shot, despite its still intact shields. A second, weakly armed ship was trying to flee with poor engine performance. While the third was only half the size of the other two, it was clearly the opponent to take seriously. Moreover, it was considerably similar to the aggressors' own ships. And instead of defending itself or its two less well-armed companions, it was attacking with everything it had. This was an attitude that the Beasts could understand.

  Usually, Halutians—and the Beasts of ancient times also came from the planet Halute—fought one on one in close combat. Particularly if the two adversaries were on roughly equal terms. That followed from their individualistic mentality. As a result, each would have picked a single opponent for the second attack, which would have had dire consequences for the PALENQUE and LAS-TOOR. In keeping with their ice-cold reasoning faculties, they also rejected any waste of energy and avoided taking too great a risk. So as Tolot sent the HALUTE down the middle between the two spacecrafts' attack-course vectors, they turned against him, their most dangerous opponent. This left the clearly inferior ships to the killing fire of the third.

  That one did not pursue the PALENQUE but instead swung in the direction of the LAS-TOOR. He would first finish off the weakest enemy. His overbrain had calculated the probability and determined that he could still easily catch up with the others afterwards. It was only a matter of seconds until he had literally pulverized the crippled Akonian research vessel.

  Meanwhile, just before he came in range of the interval cannon, Icho Tolot wrenched the HALUT sideways and then immediately angled it upwards. This was the first critical moment. Now he had come significantly closer to one of the Beasts than the other. Would the second still pursue him as well?

  Yes! As he could tell from the emission readings, it was diverting more energy to its engines in order to catch up. Its Paratron shield was showing streaks. However, he couldn't strike yet. First he had to allow Rhodan to carry out his extremely risky maneuver ...

  At that same moment, Rhodan getting everything out of the PALENQUE that it had. Nothing fantastic, but still an acceleration of 650 kilometers per second squared. In a kind of extended loop it suddenly came back to the LAS-TOOR. Close enough to use the Transform cannon. The PALENQUE only had one, of the smallest caliber. A weapon that, as Harriet Hewes the weapons officer liked to wryly comment, was nothing to send a com message home about. Still, they were flying a private explorer, not an ultra-battleship of the League Fleet.

  Yet if their opponents really were the so-called Beasts, they weren't expecting this weapon system because they simply didn't know about it. The Transform cannon had been developed by the robot civilization of the Posbis and later adopted by the Terrans. Its basic principle resembled that of the Fictive Teleporter. The projectile, usually a fusion bomb, was instantly beamed as a pulse on board the enemy ship. It was then returned to its normal state at the target by generating a "Transform field" and simultaneously detonated. In the event of a direct hit, even Paratron shields could be bypassed this way.

  Which was what happened at that moment. Almost in the same instant, the PALENQUE and the LAS-TOOR each sent their only Transform loads into the same target. Instead of a Beast spacecraft, a rapidly expanding fireball drifted through space.

  Only a fraction of a second later, Icho Tolot also pressed the trigger. His HALUTE shot two Transform bombs, each with the explosive power of a thousand gigatons of TNT, into the more distant opponent. It vanished in an incandescent flash.

  The third turned and raced away at enormous speed towards Gorbas IV. Tolot chose not to pursue, but instead sent it a com message on all frequencies. He included a live image that showed him at his pilot's position and a verbal statement in Halutian along with a brief outline of his people's recent history. In vain. The space-sphere remained mute, then abruptly disappeared from hyper-detection.

  "Thank you, Tolotos."

  "Well done, Rhodanos. The old bluff worked one more time."

  "Well, if anyone here deserves praise, it's the crew of the PALENQUE." In the background of the com message, a multitude of voices broke out cheering.

  "I thank all of you." That was Jere tan Baloy of the LAS-TOOR. His voice sounded hoarse. He knew very well that his ship had just escaped death by, as the Terrans put it, the skin of their teeth.

  "How do things look with you, Maphan?" Rhodan asked.

  "Not as bad as I feared," tan Baloy replied. "I'd say we're limping, but we can still walk. What now?"

  "Our adversary has been warned," Icho Tolot said. "If we wish to continue and make use of any remaining element of surprise, we had best do it now. With the HALUTE."

  "Very well," Rhodan said. "The danger is present whether we wait for Paronn or not. The LAS-TOOR and PALENQUE should pull back to the outermost fringe of the system as soon as a landing team has been transferred to the HALUTE. Jere?"

  "Agreed."

  "Fine. Tolotos, we're on our way!"

  Garm Hesset flew his ship into the hangar of the orbiting space fort, which was cloaked by deflector and anti-detection shields. He was so agitated that he seriously considered deactivating his ordinary brain entirely for a while. But then he would have sacrificed all creativity as well as depriving himself of the opportunity to psychologically digest the shock he had suffered.

  The Righteous had taken off to make short work of the invaders before they could send a message to their base. The same as with the vermin's station and yesterday with the single battlecruiser. Instead, two of the only twenty active Righteous and their spacecraft had been destroyed. And a member of his own people had been decisively involved!

  Garm had not answered that individual's com message although he had certainly received it. He replayed the message that had so shaken him.

  "My name is Icho Tolot and I come from the planet HALUTE, after which my ship is named. As you can see, I am one of your kind. Please stop and communicate with me! Believe me, you are insufficiently informed and misled. You are committing a serious error if you believe you must continue the unholy war that transfixed this Galaxy fifty thousand years ago. Yes, that much time has passed. Since then we have lived in peaceful co-existence with the Lemur peoples."

  Garm couldn't believe his ears although he understood t
he language perfectly, despite a few insignificant changes in pronunciation. Coexistence with the plague?

  Never!

  The war against the Lemurians was the Righteous' sole reason for being. They had been created as invincible warriors by manipulation of the Skoars' genetic make-up. Three hundred million of them had been sent into the Milky Way Galaxy by the First Vibratory Power from the Matter Bridge between the Magellanic Clouds. Their mission was to put an end to the local humanoids' highly dangerous experiments with time. That was because the First Conditioned feared that their race could be completely wiped out as a result of a time paradox.

  The Righteous settled on Halute and set up bases all over the Galaxy. Then they began the first offensive against the Lemurian Tamanium. A further eighty-six assaults followed until Lemuria had been destroyed. Almost all the vermin were completely exterminated or beamed to Andromeda by the Multi-Sun Teleporter in the center of the Galaxy.

  "I don't know from which phase you originate," the renegade continued relentlessly, "but you did not experience the end of the war. It was brought about by a Lemurian invention. It was called the Psychogenic Regenerator, a physiologically reshaping beam projector. The use of it allowed us to distance ourselves from our genetically determined aggression towards the humanoids. Voluntarily! It did not at all mean a brainwashing since our abilities and personalities were left untouched. No, it was more like the repair of a broken switch. It was thus an expansion of consciousness, and afterwards we could think in less rigid paths. I can imagine that you do not care to hear such things ... "

  He was right, if only about that one point. Garm Hesset turned it off. He felt the urge rise within him to smash something, to crush it to pulp with his fists. But he controlled himself, and instead just took some mineral nourishment into his converter stomach.

  Then the explanation occurred to him. It must be an especially refined form of psychological warfare. Yes! That was it! The vermin had learned over time to build ships imitating those of the Righteous. One of them was transmitting the crudely made animated film he had just seen.

  He laughed. Peace with the Lemurians? What rubbish! Never would a Justifier pronounce such words! He could have kicked himself for being so naive as to almost fall for it. He attributed his momentary lapse of clear thought to having only recently awakened.

  Reaching the sub-planetary control center of his enclave, he put the arsenal planet's defense systems on highest alert status. An invasion was in the offing, much sooner than expected. But the arsenal planet was armed.

  Let them come. The Righteous of Time would receive them with open arms, holding a deadly weapon in each one.

  16

  Six and a Half Against Gorbas

  The parting from Aykalie turned out to be quick and painless. Of course, Levian Paronn didn't tell her that he hoped never to return.

  In the last few weeks, they had seen each other more often than usual, but had been together less. That wasn't just down to the other man or the rapid pace of events since the discovery of the star arks. Paronn sensed that now. Since the critical moment lay so close at hand, he could hardly muster any interest in other things. He was identifying less and less with the role that he had inhabited for decades. However, he forced himself to keep his disguise intact along with all that went with it. The discipline he had mastered during the long wait served him in good stead. He yearned to be able to burst at last the steel bands that bound his body and personality. However, he was too afraid of making a mistake at the last moment that would bring the whole masterfully conceived plan down in ruins.

  Sending the five battlecruisers remaining in Achab ta Mentec's squadron to the Gorbas System was not a difficult decision. After all, their sixth ship was missing. Mechtan tan Taklir had no objections to make. The Takhan was occupied around the clock with damage control. He went from one tri-vid appearance to the next, though now as a somewhat less brilliantly shining hero. Paronn's rival, of course, flew along to Gorbas, which was to be expected. He was probably suspicious that his fellow Contact Representative wanted to earn bonus points at what was likely the next scene of action in order to make sure of a Council seat and perhaps even Aykalie. Let him. If it came to that, the careerist would be quickly cleared out of the way. The affair had one good thing about it: Aykalie had to remain with the arks in place of her two men. That way Paronn would not be forced into the uncomfortable situation of having to raise a hand against her.

  They set out a few hours after Perry Rhodan's small fleet. He intentionally allowed the Terran Resident to take the lead. He hoped that Rhodan would clear the way, in effect doing the dirty work. Perhaps they would even fall by the wayside in conflict with the Beasts. Paronn didn't need to fear that he would lose sight of Icho Tolot, the only one who mattered to him. The note he had left in the Halutian's cabin had been prepared with nano-machines embedded in it. In combination with the Halutian's Cell Activator, Paronn could track him with nearly pinpoint accuracy, and let him lead him to his goal.

  Yes, the stage was ready. All the important players had taken their places as determined by fate—and by him. True, there would be other victims. That was unfortunately unavoidable. But in a Garrabo game, pieces of lesser importance had to fall in order to win at the end. But when all was said and done, by doing so they would have contributed to a brilliant performance next to which even the mythical heroic deeds of Veéhrato paled.

  "I want to talk to the light-skinned one!" Boryk shouted as loudly as he could. "The blond, gray-eyed one, do you hear me? The one with the little scar on his nose!"

  At last he attracted someone's attention. Shadows appeared on the other side of the milky glass partition. He heard whispering and murmuring and hurried steps. Then the glassy wall disappeared, replaced by a barely visible flickering, and among several white-garbed giants stood the one Boryk had demanded to see.

  "You called for me?" he said. "My name is Perry Rhodan, but you can call me Perry. Please excuse me, but I'm in quite a rush at the moment. How can I help you?"

  "I want out of here."

  "I can certainly understand that. But you must realize that it's best for you if you stay a little longer in our Med-Station and recuperate. You are very seriously injured and have lost your forearm."

  "The stump is healed." Boryk showed the light-skinned one the scars. "Along with the other wounds."

  Rhodan turned to the giant that stood next to him, raising his eyebrows in an astonishingly human gesture.

  "We are facing a mystery," the giant in white said. He was noticeably stockier and half-bald, but also light-skinned. "He should actually be in sedated sleep. But he suddenly woke up on his own and started shouting for you."

  "This is Dr. Hyman Mahal, the ship's physician," Rhodan introduced him. "Uhm ... the chief healer of this hospital cottage."

  "Hello, Boryk. He has a highly astonishing constitution. His metabolism is apparently self-regenerating to an even greater degree than is the case with other Activator carriers. It's possibly due to the genetic alterations, but I can't be certain yet."

  "Then he's fully recovered?"

  "According to all the data available to us, yes. But he needs a prosthesis."

  "I don't need it!" Boryk exclaimed. "I can live with one hand. I want out of here!"

  "Boryk, listen to me for a moment," Rhodan said, slowly and calmly, adopting the tone of voice used for speaking with obstinate old people. "We are at the moment very far from your home. Your people are doing well. From what I've heard, they are all fine. You will soon be going home, too. That I promise."

  The light-skinned one, who was some kind of Maffan judging by his behavior, was more than a little dense. So for better or worse, Boryk had to explain to him in detail what had gone through his mind earlier, when he was still half asleep.

  "I don't want to be locked up here any more," he said in exactly the same, penetrating tone, only half an octave higher. "I'd like to go home to the Garden of Everwas, too, that's true. But only after I'
ve paid for my sins. I have brought heavy guilt on myself even though I didn't mean to do anything bad. I want to make up for it. Can you understand that?"

  Rhodan smiled. "Please excuse me if I gave you the impression of not taking you seriously. It is difficult not to be misled by your appearance, which is child-like to us. Your desire is a credit to you and I think I can sympathize with your motivation. But there isn't any opportunity for atonement at the moment."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we're just now setting out on a risky mission on an alien planet that is thought to be occupied by the Beasts. They are beings next to which we seem like dwarfs ... "

  "I'm familiar with beasts and I'm not afraid of them. Not any more, even though I know how dangerous they are. And it can't be any more alien than the worlds I just went chasing through."

  Boryk explained his reasoning to Rhodan, who stood there with doubt on his face. With his strange ability to force others to his will, he had unintentionally caused a lot of damage. He wanted to make up for it—by making that same talent available. But it had to be under the guidance of someone who had greater wisdom. Someone who was able to cope with the world beyond Heaven and Hell, and who could distinguish between good and evil. Although he had only known him briefly, Boryk was certain that he had found that someone in Rhodan. There was a very special aura around him. Boryk knew instinctively that he was knocking on the right door.

  "I'm afraid your ability won't be of much use to us on Gorbas IV," Rhodan said thoughtfully. "Halutians, as the Beasts are also called, are normally impossible to influence psychically due to their particular brain structure."

  "What's normal any more? Let me at least try!"