by Perry Rhodan
In the center of the circular area a pyramid structure towered to a height of 150 meters. Officially the Antis used it as their temple. Around this imposing edifice were arranged a number of long, low buildings in a square, and at the comers were four loftier structures crowned by metal domes. These marked the location of the four major power plants.
Since the day of his arrival Kutlos had not made a single change in the manufacturing operation unless it had been ordered by the High Council of Baalol. He submitted his reports at regular intervals and always avoided putting any pressure on his superiors or asking any inconvenient questions. Therefore, contrary to expectations, the High Council had become convinced that Kutlos was one of the most capable high priests in the entire sphere of influence of the Antis.
At this particular moment Kutlos was in the Saos observation center, which was located about halfway up inside the pyramid. Here the technical equipment had been installed for space surveillance. He was watching a slightly convex viewscreen which glittered with pinpoints of light that were evenly spaced across the entire field of vision. The trace blips appeared to be harmless but that was purely an illusion.
Every one of the glowing light points represented a Terran ship. They formed a chain around Saos, preventing any Anti vessel from taking off or landing. Kutlos had been prepared for the arrival of a part of the Solar Fleet but he had not counted on its happening so fast. Transport ships loaded with high-precision machinery for the production of the individual defense screens still lay at the spaceport. Only the cylindrical ships of the Springers had been able to make a fast getaway in time. They had completed their assignment of staging a sham attack against the stronghold.
Kutlos straightened up. The familiar humming of the air-conditioning recalled him to the present.
"Shall I shut down, Kutlos?" asked the operator, who was a young priest. He was referring to the viewscreen.
The high priest nodded silently. The countless tracking devices in the room were keeping every Terran ship under close surveillance. Each change of location was instantly registered by them. Special radiation sensors were carefully monitoring the energy output of every vessel so that the start of the invasion could be detected immediately.
To Kutlos' way of thinking the Terrans were holding off too long. By Earth reckoning the Fleet task force had been lying out there for three days already. The high priest had hoped that all the Antis could get away in the transport ships before the arrival of the Terrans. The swiftness with which the spherical warships had broken through out of hyperspace had destroyed this part of the plan. Against their wishes the priests on Saos were forced to remain in the stronghold.
For the first time Kutlos saw his strategy doomed to failure. In case of invasion the most vigorous counter defense would eventually have to collapse. The high priest had no intention of giving up Saos without a fight but he knew it would end in destruction and defeat. Unobtrusively he ran a hand through his hair. The ships surrounding the planet did not make him particularly nervous but he struggled with a sense of resignation when he realized that his path to power was to be blocked by the unexpected velocity of 4,000 spaceships. Other than that he had no qualms: he felt that the manner in which he had conducted his life was justified.
A voice nearby intruded upon his deliberations. "When will they attack?"
He turned to look into the eyes of Tasnor, his deputy high priest. From the first day of meeting him, Kutlos had formed a definite opinion of Tasnor. The man was intelligent, considerably more intelligent than the high priest himself, but he would never rise to high honors within the hierarchy of the Baalol cult. Tasnor was guilty of two fatal errors: he talked too much and he talked with everybody. Moreover, he was always trying to mix in certain ideas of his own. Such a modus operandi was bound to hurt his career.
Kutlos regarded him in silence and Tasnor virtually froze in the cold glance of the high priest. To the latter it was immaterial what the younger servant of Baalol thought of him. Perhaps the man hated him but that did not alter the respect he gave him. In his association with the powerful and the mighty, Kutlos had learned how to gain such respect and to keep it.
"It's just that this waiting gets on a person's nerves," explained Tasnor.
Kutlos smiled in a way that reduced Tasnor suddenly to a nervous and inexperienced underling. The deputy high priest reddened; his eyes lowered and his hands fidgeted with his wide cape.
"I know," replied Kutlos, "but we should be grateful to the Terrans for this period of grace. It gives us time to carry out the second part of our plan."
Hepna-Kaloot turned in his seat. For an Anti he was a very small type and pudgy. "That sounds as if we still had a way out of this," he said. "It was never my intention to die a hero's death, Kutlos. What have you thought of that still gives you hope?"
Hepna-Kaloot was the only priest on Saos for whom Kutlos felt any sympathy. He tended to spare the little man from the treatment he accorded the others. Hepna-Kaloot had a way of transmitting to his surroundings the indifference he felt for all things. Even when he asked questions, as he did now, one felt that nothing could really disturb him. There was only one thing that could inspire the chubby little priest and that was the game called Paloot, an indulgence that was forbidden, of course.
However, Hepna-Kaloot was so familiar with the regulations that he could be suspected of getting around them from time to time. Occasionally on a quiet evening he would get carried away and start talking about playing Paloot. He had always represented himself as a mere onlooker but it was clear to his listeners that his role must have been otherwise and that he had actually been a participant.
So the most direct clue to Hepna-Kaloot's character was his gambling nature. But now they were all in a game together which was much more vital and for the first time the stakes were open on the table: this was a gamble for life itself. It was understandable that the little priest would have gladly pulled his stake from this game if the opportunity presented itself, so perhaps at the moment his words were a bit less indifferent than usual.
"I see no reason why we should not carry out the original plan," said Kutlos. "We shall adhere to the instructions of the High Council." Even before he had finished speaking he saw the gleam of resistance in Tasnor's eyes.
"When those orders came in from Baalol," the younger man reminded him, "we still didn't know that we would have no chance of getting away from Saos. The plans of the High Council were based on another premise."
Kutlos did not have to see the faces of the other Antis present to know that the majority of them shared Tasnor's view. And his second-in-command was quite aware of it. But this did not disturb Kutlos. This chattering gossiper would not prevent him from experiencing a final triumph.
"The only thing that has changed," said the high priest calmly, "is that we are still here."
Tasnor made the mistake of interpreting this as the beginning sign of weakness on Kutlos' part. He turned to the assembled Antis and raised his arms in a gesture of entreaty. "Kutlos is certainly right on that point!" he called out to them. "We are still here and all of our lives are in danger. 4,000 ships are ready to attack the planet and they will give us no quarter. If we were to let this happen it would be a senseless sacrifice. So my suggestion is this: let us reveal to the Terrans who their supposed Rhodan really is. They will imprison him and return to Earth."
"That's a bad suggestion!" cut in the high priest sharply. "If the Terrans discover they have been taking orders from Cardif they will make every effort to locate the genuine Rhodan. And where, may I ask, would they be most likely to find such information but here on Saos?" Kutlos paused to let his question sink in. "So if they know about Rhodan's son they are still going to land here. In fact, having learned that we tricked them they may be more determined to take us than ever before." He waved a hand in rejection. "Let us not deceive ourselves! We all know what dangerous antagonists the Terrans can be. Why provoke them further? We still have Cardif in the palm of our h
and. We must not throw our trump card away so easily. As long as Thomas Cardif still wears the mask of the First Administrator the ships of Earth are relatively harmless to us. The High Council of Baalol has informed us that they are much more concerned about another mighty one in this galaxy."
"Imperator Gonozal VIII," interjected Hepna-Kaloot. "The Arkon admiral of the Greater Imperium."
Kutlos knew that the rotund little priest was trying to tell him he would not join forces with Tasnor. Hepna-Kaloot always considered his decisions to be well founded and this the other Antis were aware of. So Hepna-Kaloot's expression of loyalty was a great contribution to the high priest's prestige.
"That is correct," agreed Kutlos. "We know that Atlan is one of the few Arkonides who remained unaffected by the deterioration of his race, and since he took over from the robot Brain much has happened. Gonozal VIII acted with a strong hand and sought to shake the Imperium to a new state of wakefulness so that the deterioration process might come to a halt. And in this respect Perry Rhodan was a good ally. The two Imperiums together constitute a mighty factor of power. The two leading men in both stellar empires came to be friends." Kutlos smiled sarcastically. "But now in the meantime our mutual friend Thomas Cardif has managed to change the situation decisively. Today there are political differences between Arkon and Terra. One can practically speak of a cold war that's going on. Our agents have learned that Cardif has withdrawn all Terran personnel from the Arkonide planets, where they were in strategic positions of the administration. Rhodan's son has probably offended the Imperator a number of times by now. Things have come to the point where Solar Fleet formations are manoeuvring within the Greater Imperium itself."
Tasnor appeared to realize that this long-winded explanation was intended to win the priests over. "We know all that," he retorted stubbornly. "But it gets us nowhere."
The high priest did not allow himself to be distracted. As he continued to speak the volume of his voice hardly competed with the hum of the electronic equipment. What he said, however, was understood by everyone present. As ever before, Kutlos was careful not to interweave his personal thoughts into his exposition. He kept stressing the fact to his fellow Antis that he represented the will of Baalol. "Gonozal VIII has called for general mobilization," he said finally. "This indicates that he considers a serious conflict to be an imminent possibility."
Kutlos slapped his hands together as though to dispatch an annoying insect. He stood there, tall and lean, just as he had first appeared on Saos when he arrived on board the spaceship. He represented the High Council of Baalol which was the final and self-sufficient authority. It almost seemed as if an invisible strand reached down from the Anti leaders into Kutlos, imbuing him with their own totalitarian power. In effect, Kutlos was the long arm of Baalol.
"The High Council believes that we can help to agitate this conflict. Arkon and Terra are negatively disposed against our sect. So it's only logical that we should attempt to weaken both sides. To that end we can afford to sacrifice this base."
"And our lives along with it!" shouted Tasnor.
But he had already used this argument so many times that it failed now to have the desired effect. Kutlos had never doubted his own victory in this game of polemics and now he nodded to Hepna-Kaloot, who gave him a fathomless smile. By this Kutlos knew that Hepna-Kaloot was the only one whom he had not convinced. The wily little Anti was too adroit to admit it openly. The high priest was startled when he realized that Hepna-Kaloot was actually using his own strategy.
Kutlos concluded: "If Atlan and Cardif come to blows, we will have the last laugh," he explained. "This system is within the sphere of influence of the Greater Imperium. If the Solar Fleet attacks us it will be mixing into the internal affairs of Arkon, which is tantamount to opening the main invasion." He went over to the viewscreen again and turned it on. The tapestry of light points appeared as before. "The plan is good," he said. "And it will work."
With these few words, Kutlos had decided to destroy 4,000 Terran ships-or better yet, to let them destroy themselves. If thousands of Arkon robotships were also destroyed in the process, nothing would please the Antis more.
• • •
One of the blips of light on the Antis' viewscreen was the linear-drive warship Ironduke, which held a steady orbit around the planet.
Lt. Brazo Alkher's lanky figure moved along the corridor that led from the Control Central to the officers' quarters. Directly behind him was Lt. Stant Nolinov, whose stocky frame and blind stubble of hair contrasted sharply with Alkher's tall and bony physique.
The two officers had known each other ever since the first mission of the Fantasy. Together with Perry Rhodan they had survived the shipwreck and had been rescued by Capt. Samuel Graybound. A bond of friendship had developed between the two which was far more than the usual G.I. buddy relationship. From a military standpoint the two were a fantastically coordinated team. One Brazo Alkher at the fire control center of a spaceship was more deadly than 10 heavy cruisers.
If one were to question Alkher concerning his special abilities he would modestly reply: "I work the guns, that's all." But how he worked them was something else again.
Their imprisonment on Saos had drawn the two more closely together than ever. They knew that they had only one man to thank for their involuntary sojourn on the Anti planet, the man they all took to be Perry Rhodan. Cardif-Rhodan had ruthlessly abandoned them on the enemy's ship and on top of it had issued orders to open fire on the vessel.
"So now what does he want of us?" asked Nolinov. He had come to a stop. The mixed tone of suspicion and rejection in his voice was obvious.
Alkher shook his head regretfully. "You're talking about the Chief," he reminded his friend.
"Of course I am!" retorted Nolinov bitterly.
They had stopped in front of a cabin and now Alkher knocked on the door.
"Come in!"
Alkher opened the door and stepped into the small room. The floor was covered with the fragments of a shattered mirror. In some confusion, Alkher looked across at the bed where Perry Rhodan was lying.
The Administrator had taken off his uniform jacket and exchanged it for a bulky sweater. Over his eyes he wore a pair of dark goggles of a type used by technicians in the converter rooms. Alkher heard Nolinov come in behind him.
"You called us, sir?"
He could not make out Rhodan's eyes behind the opaque goggles. When the Administrator sat up, Alkher could not be sure whether he was looking at him or at Nolinov.
Unexpectedly, Rhodan seemed to be quite friendly. "You know that I consider you two to be my closest confidants," he told them.
"Yes sir," answered the two lieutenants in unison.
Alkher felt rather than saw Nolinov's mystified glance. It was not evident to either of them why they should have arrived at such a special consideration.
"I selected you two to go to Wanderer with me," he reminded them. "Your special qualities have not escaped my notice."
Alkher felt his uneasiness increase. This whole approach was leading to something that was certainly not suitable for bolstering Rhodan's crumbling influence.
"We realize that, sir," said Alkher cautiously. He figured it was best for him to do the talking. Nolinov's impulsive nature might only get them into trouble.
As Rhodan stood up he stepped on one of the glass fragments and the grinding sound made Alkher shudder. Against the wall he saw the frame of what was left of the mirror. Apparently the Administrator had shattered it in a fit of rage.
"You were present during the undisciplined exhibition of Maj. Krefenbac," said Cardif-Rhodan. "You have witnessed how far an officer can go in his psychopathic arrogance."
Nolinov gasped audibly. Alkher nudged him with an elbow and hoped that Rhodan hadn't noticed it.
"We saw everything that happened," confirmed the lieutenant quietly.
"Maj. Krefenbac is the Ironduke's First Officer, " said Rhodan, "but that's going to come to an end."
"I'm going to remove him from that responsible position," announced Rhodan. "It's just not suitable for that kind of a man to hold a position that is vital to the life of the ship. Major Krefenbac can't carry out a simple order-so what would he do in case of important decisions? I rather imagine that the major would lose his nerve in a space battle and would refuse to obey a command."
Alkher forced himself to remain calm. His thoughts were racing in new confusion. He regretted that Bell was not present. Rhodan's closest friend was still the only one who had any influence over this sick man.
Nolinov could not suppress a comment: "Sir, I regard Maj. Krefenbac as a capable man and as my superior officer."
Rhodan nodded. He had sat down on the bed again and his hands began to dig into the covers repeatedly-like claws. "That only proves that you don't have an eye for such men, lieutenant," he said. "It's important to study the men around you. You practically have to dissect their character, Nolinov. If you put them in a carefully planned psychological situation-as I did-then you will find sometimes that a villainous disposition can be lurking under a very polished facade."
"Yes sir," replied Nolinov but his tone was cool and aloof.
Suddenly Alkher felt that Rhodan's eyes were fixed upon him behind the dark goggle lenses. He strove to meet his unseen gaze with firmness.
"Lt. Alkher, you appear to me to be good officer material," Rhodan informed him.
"I do my best, sir," said Alkher, and he tried to make his voice sound friendlier than he was feeling at the moment.
Rhodan nodded in satisfaction. "Lieutenant, I am going to appoint you First Officer of the Ironduke."
For a moment Alkher was too perplexed to think of an answer. The problems that loomed up behind this fatal offer seemed to him to be insurmountable. He blinked in his confusion.
