The Emperor and the Monster

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by Perry Rhodan




  ATLAN knew it would be senseless to take command of the 10,000 robotships which were presently under control of their separate positronicons. Even on the flagship itself he had left the navigation to the auto-pilot system.

  Atlan, the ancient but ever-youthful Admiral, did not intend to attack without warning. The fleet was an ultimate threat and RHODAN would understand it as such.

  Soon the Moment of Truth would come for--

  Perry Rhodan

  Posbis #107

  —————————————————

  THE EMPEROR AND THE MONSTER

  —————————————————

  PROLOG

  THOMAS CARDIF the renegade has taken over Perry Rhodan's place as Administrator of the Solar Imperium and nobody suspects that an impostor is at the helm-not even Rhodan's closest friends or the mutants.

  When Cardif's actions differ strangely from those which would have normally been expected of Rhodan, an excuse for the Administrator's behavior is found in the fact that his mental health has suffered greatly as a result of his imprisonment by the Antis.

  Knowing that no one has seen through his disguise, Thomas Cardif triumphantly wields his power at will-even though his actions may bring the races of the Milky Way to the brink of destruction.

  However, the Usurper has failed to include one factor in his plans:

  Another factor is Atlan, the Imperator of Arkon, because the situation becomes extremely critical for Perry Rhodan's impersonator when there is an encounter between THE EMPEROR AND THE MONSTER...

  1/ BEAST AT BAY

  His hands were trembling. His facial muscles tensed and he unconsciously ran his fingers over his uniform as though for comparison.

  Although Maj. Hunts Krefenbac, First Officer of the linear-drive warship Ironduke, had a reputation for being self-controlled, the present situation was something he had never been prepared for. Who could have told him he would ever see the Chief in such a condition as this?

  As he glanced surreptitiously at the tall figure of the Terran he believed to be Perry Rhodan he experienced an instinctive sense of horror and alarm. Strangely, the Administrator's top uniform button was the most fascinating focal point, not only because it bore the highest rank emblem in the Solar Imperium but especially because it had been let out to the last fastener on his collar. In spite of this, Rhodan's jugular vein was prominently swollen due to the tightness of the largest uniform available on board.

  Krefenbac couldn't take his eyes off the Chief's reddened face. It seemed to be broader and flatter than ever before. He wondered if the runaway process of cell division was actually going to continue like this without abatement. He heard someone urgently clear his throat as though to warn him. It was Reginald Bell. But the warning came too late. The unsuspected impostor, Cardif-Rhodan, turned around with such a violent movement that the insignia button popped loose from his collar.

  A dead silence pervaded the Control Central of the Ironduke. The Chief's mouth had opened as if to speak but he failed to utter a sound. The button shield rolled in ever narrowing circles on the deck until it finally came to rest directly in front of Dr. Carl Riebsam, the chief mathematician. All eyes stared at the gleaming button as though hypnotized.

  In a momentary reaction of mortification, Cardif brought both hands to his throat and felt of the torn fastener. In a somewhat cracked voice he challenged Krefenbac. "You were about to say something, Major?"

  There was a mixture of helplessness and sympathy in Krefenbac's expression. "Sir..." he began but groped cautiously for words.

  Cardif suddenly drew himself up to his full height and the uniform stretched tightly over his body. It was no secret to the crew that in the past three days he had grown three cm and had also expanded his girth. It almost seemed as if the whole process were accelerating as they approached the planet Saos.

  "Well, speak!" shouted Cardif, losing his composure. When he saw Riebsam bend down to pick up the button he pushed the mathematician out of the way. There was a nasty smile on his lips. "No, Doctor," he said scornfully, "not you!"

  Krefenbac's face took on a slightly rosy hue. Reginald Bell stood with folded arms behind Cardif, whom he mistook for his best and closest friend.

  Cardif glared threateningly at Krefenbac. "Well, Major, are you going to pick up that shield for your poor, sick superior?"

  The color vanished from Krefenbac's face and he became deathly pale. He knew that Rhodan wanted to belittle him. The Administrator's and actions and mannerisms were incomprehensible to him. Krefenbac was a great respecter of discipline. He was an excellent soldier and officer.

  "Sir," he said tonelessly, "please release me from this order. I'll bring you a replacement shield to your cabin."

  It was obvious to everyone in the Control Central that the major had met him halfway. But everyone else knew that Krefenbac would go no further. Although he was willing to lay down his pride he was not ready to bury it.

  A fanatic gleam appeared in Cardif's eyes. He was able to interpret Krefenbac's attitude as well as anybody else. The major had backbone. Yet under the insidious effects of the cell activator Cardif-Rhodan could countenance no insubordination. He wanted everyone to obey him.

  "Major," he half-whispered threateningly, "you will pick up the shield!"

  Krefenbac tensed. His gaze met Cardif's squarely. Before he could say a word, everyone knew he was going to refuse the order. It was Bell who came to the rescue. He moved past Cardif, winked at Krefenbac and picked up the button himself. Cardif remained silent. Bell reflectively weighed the cause of the disturbance in his hand.

  "If it means that much to you, Perry..."

  He tried to give it to Cardif but the false Administrator turned on his heel and left the Control Central. Bell lowered his hand and the tension subsided. He had taken Cardif by surprise although this solution had not been inopportune. After all, making such a test of authority with the major would not have had a good effect on the officer corps.

  But such considerations were of secondary importance to Cardif now. For him there was one primary problem: how to bring his swiftly increasing size and weight to a halt and reverse the process? The only course that held any promise seemed to be an invasion of Saos. The priests of the Baalol cult had pushed him into this idea of procuring the cell activators from Wanderer. They must have known the frightful effect the device would have on him. Since they were not inclined to help him willingly he was going to have to force them to do it. Cardif was no longer capable of thinking logically. The cell proliferation worked like a tumor, gradually interspersing immature brain matter among his normal nerve cells. He merely knew that he was backed up by the might of the Solar Fleet. And it did not occur to him anymore that he could be betrayed by the Antis.

  He entered his cabin and made sure that the door was locked behind him. For awhile he stood there motionlessly in the room. Only the rise and fall of his chest gave a sign that he was alive. Then he started on a routine of activity that he followed every 12 hours.

  He went to the opposite bulkhead where a vertical conduit casing served him as a measuring post. At the height of his head on the casing tube there were a number of variously colored markings, each accompanied by small figures representing dates. In total there were five such markings. Cardif picked up a ruler from a nearby table then turned his back to the upright pipe. He placed the ruler on top of his head at right angles to the casing and then held it there while he turned and marked the spot with a colored penzel he had in his pocket. Taking the ruler away he saw that the mark was higher than the previous ones. With a trembling hand, he wrote in the date: 2 Sept 2103.

  Since the last time he had stood here he ha
d grown another half centimeter!

  He suddenly struck the metal wall with his fist but the pain served to bring him back to his senses. From his pocket he produced a tape measure with which he carefully measured his waist. He then entered the figure in a notebook that lay on the table. Also here he noted an increase.

  Cardif groaned softly to himself. He clutched at the place on his chest where the activator had half-buried itself in his flesh. The doctors had told him that it was no longer possible to remove it by surgery.

  He knew it was useless to check his weight. It kept gradual pace with his increasing cell divisions. But he had another means of observing his condition which was much more conclusive. It was straightforward and brutal because there was no way he could be deceived by it. Rhodan's son hastily drew out from under his bed a mirror which was 1 meter wide and twice as long. This he set upright against the wall.

  He saw himself standing there in the cabin with his arms at his sides and his hair all disheveled. Although he did not actually appear to be ill there was no more of Perry Rhodan's muscular leanness to be seen. The oversized uniform was already too tight for him. With his fingers he felt of his body and noted that his flesh tone was no longer solid. Under pressure there was a certain sponginess to it.

  Cardif stood there motionlessly as he regarded his reflection in the mirror. Inwardly torn by frustration, he felt that his burning hatred was ready to drive him out of his mind. He pointed to the image that was himself but which was supposed to represent another. The reflection simultaneously moved an arm to point to him.

  "Hello, Rhodan!" he said in an almost garbled tone of voice. As though listening for an answer he cocked his head to one side.

  Was it himself or the image speaking now? "Whoever is Rhodan and holds his power firmly in his hands must be Rhodan! Do you understand?" A sneering mask of a face looked back at him. It had lost much of the once-chiseled features of Rhodan.

  "The game goes on," said Cardif. "I will not give up so easily. Saos will fall!" He took a step closer to the mirror. Something stirred in his subconscious but failed to break through "Maybe I'll just keep on growing and getting heavier! " he half-giggled. "One of these days the Ironduke won't be able to hold me!" The macabre vision of this seemed to amuse him. A confusion of thoughts shot through his brain. He ripped open his uniform jacket and thumped his chest. "Here is the fist of hell!" he babbled in desperation. "Its talons clutch my flesh and throb and pulse and give me no rest! Why can't you doctors help me?!"

  No one answered him. He had always been alone. Somehow this thought reawakened his former pride. But only for a moment because as he started to straighten up, the uniform threatened to rip under the pressure of his increased size.

  Was this the eternal life that he had promised himself with the falsely acquired activator?

  He lay down on the bed to rest but found that he only tossed and turned. Should he order some more sleeping pills? A crazy idea began to creep into his mind. He imagined that while he was asleep Krefenbac would come in and he would be able to strangle him. Stupefied by the medicine he would not be able to defend himself in time.

  He shook his head in desperation. He had to clear his mind. He must not forget his great goal. A large formation of the Solar Fleet was already in the Saos System. Involuntarily he happened to look again at the mirror. He got up and went over to it, strangely drawn to his reflection. He came so close to the glass that it became fogged by his breath. He wiped the patch of mistiness away with his sleeve in order to see better. Only centimeters away from the mirror's surface he stared into his own face.

  And then he saw it!

  He wanted to cry out or do anything but stand there staring, yet horror and panic momentarily paralyzed him. He finally groped behind him toward the table and grasped a heavy paperweight. He lifted it and hurled it against the glass. His face exploded into countless fragments. The splintered shards clattered to the floor, bringing him back to his senses. He staggered back to the bed and collapsed onto it.

  It was his eyes which had shocked him so. Their grey coloration had appeared to fade as he looked at himself, to be replaced by a baleful yellowish tone. And Cardif knew what was in that look.

  What had stared back at him was a beast of prey!

  • • •

  Krefenbac took a long deep breath. His voice was full of heart-felt conviction when he thanked Bell for his intervention. "Sir, you saved me from a very unpleasant situation," he concluded.

  Reginald Bell's expression remained grave. His freckled face was deeply etched with worry and it was plain to see how weighted down he was with his present burdens. On the one hand he sought to continue backing up his unfortunate friend and yet these men who surrounded him had to be shielded from his incomprehensible moods.

  "The situation is unpleasant for all of us," he told the major. "We mustn't forget that the Chief is badly afflicted by his illness. Also the after-effects of his imprisonment on Okul are bothering him. I've discussed this thing quite thoroughly with Dr. Alonzo who is a specialist in cytology research. He says Perry is suffering from an explosive process of cell division."

  "I wish I could help him," said Jefe Claudrin in his booming voice. "You know, when I think of what we're planning to do here I can't seem to shake off an uneasy feeling. Alkher and Nolinov reported that their escape was cleverly plotted out by the Antis. But they also infer that there were some slip-ups that the priests hadn't counted on."

  "And from that we can conclude that the Antis wanted us to come here," said Bell. "There's some special reason for it. Their military setup on Saos isn't capable of standing up under a prolonged attack by our forces. They must be perfectly aware of that."

  "But they have a flair for underhanded trickery," remarked Claudrin grimly. "We really ought to teach that bunch a lesson."

  The colonel was a man of action. Under his command the Ironduke had become the most effective warship of the Solar Fleet. In addition to this was the fact that the 800-meter sphere was equipped with linear spacedrive. Within the Saos system at the present moment were more than 4,000 Terran fighting units including a number of super battleships. It was unthinkable that any alien vessel could slip through this barrier of energy and steel without being detected. Nor could any spaceship take off from Saos and any attempt to land there would have been suicide. The Terran ships were deployed in a massive shell-like formation around the second planet of the sun known as 41-B-1847-ArqH. The small yellow star had no name other than the catalog designation. Of the two planets circling it the outermost was Saos. It fell under the jurisdiction of Atlan and the Greater Imperium since it was close to star cluster M-13, some 33,218 light-years from Earth.

  By human standards Saos was an inhospitable world. The atmosphere was poor in oxygen content and consisted mostly of nitrogen and carbon dioxide but the greatest problem was the planet's slow rate of rotation. A day and night period on Saos lasted 214 hours by Earth time, which brought with it the unpleasant effects that were largely typical of non-rotational worlds. Storms of hurricane magnitude raged in the transition zones between the day and night hemispheres and so all such regions were continually threatened by the violence of the natural conditions. Saos had not been able to develop any extensive areas of vegetation and had thus remained a desolate planet of deserts and wastelands.

  It was not only from the descriptions of Alkher and Nolinov that Col. Claudrin knew what conditions faced him here, should the invasion actually take place. Like everyone else on board he was personally hoping that the secret of Rhodan's metamorphosis could be wrested from the Antis. Yet he did not know that this hope was a wolf in sheep's clothing. No one in the Fleet knew the real identity of the Administrator. Everybody was still inclined to follow the commands of the false Rhodan. Of course his physical alteration might have been countenanced by his friends with reasonable composure were it not for the change that was becoming evident in his character.

  Since Claudrin was a logical thinker he was the fi
rst to correct his own statement. "What I mean is, we should make our move against the Baalol priests on a broader basis. If we don't know their plans we're facing a rather confused situation."

  "Well, they're certainly not going to divulge them to us of their own accord," commented Dr. Riebsam with obvious sarcasm.

  No one contradicted him. If any information were to be extracted from the Antis it would have to be done on Saos. But that seemed to be just what the enemy was waiting for. Bell, who in the absence of his presumed friend was trying to minimize his shortcomings, found himself in an unhappy situation. He had to prove to Rhodan that an attack against this Anti world would be senseless. But to produce this proof he had to land on Saos. The stocky First Deputy Administrator was beginning to suspect that the priests had set up a trap that the Solar Fleet could more or less stumble into if more precautions were not taken. The hidden guarantee of this was Rhodan himself-or the man who wore his mask.

  • • •

  Kutlos' policy had been simple and successful. It consisted of merely carrying out the instructions of the Baalol High Council in every case. For this reason he had been advanced to the officiating priest on Saos. If he ever felt in a contradictory mood he would only express it to underlings. He believed that to gain power one had to move among the mighty and know how to get along with them. For him this principle had always paid off. To other high priests Kutlos had always been known as a quiet and rather inconspicuous type. But one day he had come to Saos in a great long-ship and had taken over the office of the high priest there. He had stepped tall and lean from the airlock and turned his penetrating gaze to, the industrial area.

  The installations of the Antis had been located in an 8-km basin surrounded by high and barren mountains. Being naturally protected from sandstorms it was an ideal place for a Baalol stronghold. The spaceport lay in the northern part of the canyon-like enclosure and the nearby manufacturing center stretched out about two km from there. There were also subterranean installations which reached a depth of some 50 meters or so. Here on Saos the Antis produced the projector-generators for their individual defense screens.

 

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