by Perry Rhodan
"That's right," echoed Maixpe. "A very puzzling case it is for us, too. Do you think the Springer police played a dirty trick on us?"
"Don't be insane, Soltenite!" said Cokaze's eldest son. "Your ship's going to be held up for about 14 days so we'll straighten out our accounts after my clan has paid for the docking and repair costs. Otherwise you and your crew are liable to squander all the proceeds."
"But we still need money!" interjected Trexca/Bell. "On Archetz there's still plenty going on!" He made the universally recognizable motion of lifting a glass to his lips.
"You lush!" Maixpe remonstrated. But he immediately backed up his request for an advance allowance.
"Good!" the Springer agreed. "First I'll arrange to have your freighter moved to a repair dock. Then I'll give you an advance payment on our account. Does that satisfy you?"
• • •
Like its spaceport, the city of Lus had come through the Druuf attack almost without damage. The amusement centers lured the spacemen to squander their hard-earned pay the same as ever and the enterprising Springers had built up a lively business from these seductions. In the matter of money shuffling they were quite unscrupulous.
Unobtrusively the 17 disguised Terranians submerged themselves in the riotous atmosphere of entertainment. They embraced the attractions of the alien bazaars with open arms and pockets full of money, although with the inflation their funds might not reach too far.
"Ho there; liars, come and have a drink with us!"
"Well, does mamma's boy want to take a chance on a game today?"
Everywhere they were abused in this manner but at the same time they were looked upon with a sort of sarcastic commiseration. The half-drunken Springers who usually traveled all year from world to world found themselves suddenly on a few days of leave on Archetz where the ground felt a little more solid under their feet, so they invited the Soltenites to drink with them.
Perry Rhodan and Bell were sitting together with three dedicated gamblers.
"Hold your bids down!" Perry warned his heavyset friend in the Soltenite language. But Bell raised the ante the instant the cards were dealt. With his slight telepathic capacity and his ability to read much in alien faces, Rhodan was able to see through his playing partners almost constantly.
After several hours the others stared in amazement at the Soltenite and were forced to pass because they had lost all their money to him.
Maixpe/Rhodan made a friendly offer: "Tomorrow I'll let you have your revenge."
"Thanks but no thanks!" grumbled one of the Springers. "That kind of revenge is too expensive!"
It was the same at another wild gaming table where more than 30 Springers, Aras and Ekhonides sat with a single Soltenite and watched in a fevered pitch of excitement as the darting numbers flew beneath the indirectly lighted prism squares. The Soltenite was having an uninterrupted winning streak.
The croupier was slowly breaking into a sweat as he secretly switched the positronic circuits a third time so that the bank could recoup its losses during the next 20 plays.
Meanwhile John Marshall had grown accustomed to his braided beard and he had finally stopped squinting under the visor-like bulge of his false forehead. He was having a splendid time here. Just you wait, my friend—he thought. Even that trick won't help you! There's no way you can fool me!
At the last instant he chose prism four, green three. It was one of 133 possibilities. As was typical for a Springer croupier the banker had folded his arms but by means of a foolproof remote system he had given the game positronic control a signal—which Marshall read in his mind: prism 4, green 3. Within a fraction of a second prior to the fixing impulse, Marshall shoved a stack of banknotes to the spot that had been free until now.
The men roared with surprise; women shrieked. In all eyes there was greed for the money and envy over the Soltenites' uncanny luck. The 'hump-head' was paid off at 133/1 odds. The croupier had had to break out a new supply of money and now he shelled out countless bundles of banknotes onto the table in front of Marshall. But his face had turned an ashen color. His hands trembled visibly. This weird streak of luck for the Soltenite was filling him with anxiety. And suddenly the Soltenite was no longer alone. Three other hump-heads had joined him. One of them had been clearly overheard to say that he had freshly loaded his impulse beamer that morning.
When John Marshall left the gaming table with his three companions he walked away with a fortune.
By 30:30 hours, standard time, not one of the 17 Soltenites remained in the amusement district. They had assembled elsewhere in a tavern frequented by spacemen and now sat conversing quietly in the Solten language at a long table. They did not have to worry much about being overheard. Aside from themselves there were few linguists in the Arkonide Empire who had a command of their language.
"Nothing so far," announced Maixpe/Rhodan. "Of course I hadn't counted on running across a clue this soon, anyway. Tomorrow Bell and I and Tschubai will have a look at the subterranean portion of the city. Marshall, you select the men who are to be assigned to Titon..."
Trexca/Bell interrupted. "But that's the planet's capital city—it's a rubbish heap!"
"Only the surface portion," Rhodan advised him. "Other than the toll in lives, the Druuf attack had no more effect on Archetz than a pinprick. This planet is another Arkon 3. And Lloyd, you know what you have to do—right?"
The tracking mutant nodded.
"And I suppose our little garden gnome Pucky can just sleep through it all!" pouted Bell.
"That he may!" declared Rhodan curtly, abruptly ending the conference.
At 31:45 standard time a message came in to the subterranean headquarters of the police in charge of controlling aliens on Archetz: all 17 Soltenites had chosen their hotel and were in their rooms.
But the information was not quite accurate now.
The two teleporters Ras Tschubai and Tako Kakuta had taken André Noir and Fellmer Lloyd with them in a teleport jump to Titon, where they made a joint reconnaissance to determine whether or not the amusement district of the capital city was still intact.
On their way back to their hotel, André Noir expressed himself to the others. "The Chief is moving too slowly for me. And this town of Lus is also the wrong place to look for Thomas Cardif. If he's anywhere to be found on Archetz it will be in the subterranean sections of Titon. Would anybody care to join me on that trip?"
• • •
Rhodan's bioplastic disguise concealed his vexation but the almost complete disappearance of his eyes under the bulge of his forehead said enough. The more André Noir reported to him the worse his mood became. During this they moved normally with the press of pedestrian traffic and were occasionally separated for brief moments. But when they rejoined each other Noir continued to tell him about his nocturnal excursion into the subterranean areas of Titon.
"So..." Rhodan had nothing more to say.
They were again making use of the Soltenite language, which did not contain the word 'sir'.
"My Lord," Ras Tschubai addressed him from the other side, "last night we only attempted to anticipate what would have to be done today..."
Rhodan interrupted him and came to a stop near an airco taxi stand. He was surrounded by Noir, Tschubai, Kakuta and Lloyd. Bell was already getting into a hover-glider carrier with the other 11 men as they intended to pay a visit to the repair dock where their freighter was located.
"I don't understand any of you!" he remonstrated in a sharp tone of voice. "I just don't get your careless and negligent attitude. I'm not interested in your motive but it's incredible that you could place us all in this deadly danger while we were lying asleep in our hotel rooms, completely unsuspecting. When we return to Earth we'll discuss this incident much more thoroughly. At the moment I have nothing more to say to you!"
Rhodan approached the next hover-glider. The four reprimanded mutants followed him in silence. Nor was any word exchanged as the carrier picked up speed and brought them to th
e outskirts of Lus where one moving conveyor channel after the other could be seen, separated only by extensive lines of industrial buildings.
They were looking down at this center of heavy industry from an altitude of 1,200 meters. It stretched away to the horizon and in fact widened out like the rays of a searchlight until about 10 km beyond the farthest suburb it spread to right and left and joined with other industrial districts.
They searched in vain for any traces of damage which might have resulted from the Druuf spaceships' raid. This sector of the planet had survived the unexpected attack of the monsters without impairment. The five men in their bulging facial disguises were all thinking the same thing at the moment: there was nothing like this except on Arkon 3. Even with the most strenuous efforts the Earth was not able to show anything comparable, although the day was not too far off when the Earth's moon would be a single industrial plant, since it had been hollowed out many hundreds of km deep.
The automatic pilot of their air vehicle brought them down to the shipyard area where the Lorch-Arto was still waiting for the Springers' work robots to install a new propulsion unit in its stern. Two engineers from Cokaze's clan were just leaving the Lorch-Arto. Still shaking their heads they told Rhodan that it was simply incomprehensible. They had no idea what could have exploded in the freighter's engine room.
In garbled Intercosmo Rhodan told them that the explosions were the work of Terranian counter-espionage experts but that he and his men were in no great hurry to leave Archetz again. In so doing, he played his Soltenite role all the more convincingly.
Maixpe/Rhodan's hair-raising account proved to be too much for the Springer engineers. One of them interrupted him good-naturedly. "Why don't you give up, Soltenite? You don't have to lie to us about it. Save it for when you get back home. That's what you're afraid of, isn't it? Having to account for this to the Great Mothers?"
Rhodan pretended excitement. "But my Lords, last night the demon gods looked with favor on us!" He bowed and scraped before them in such a servile manner that Bell had to turn away with a half-muttered oath. "In the casino I won a fortune playing cards and at the tol-game table my engineer won 20 fortunes. We..."
"Sure, sure—that's fine!" said the other Springer exasperatedly and turned away. He didn't believe a word of the Soltenite captain's story. He knew only too well how brazenly the amusement places singled out spacemen as suckers.
The Terranians boarded their captured ship in order to change their clothes. Soltenite garb was not suitable for the action which was to transpire in the next few hours. The overall type of jumpsuits worn principally by the Ekhonides during space travel were more applicable for their purpose.
Bell was grumbling about the inconvenient hindrance of his braided beard and was just referring to himself as a caricature when he was interrupted by a shout from Rhodan.
"Pucky isn't here!"
The air-regenerator case that was his hiding place turned out to be empty. Rhodan called Marshall and cephalopath Fellmer Lloyd into the spares storeroom. He explained the situation in about three words and then gave an order.
"Try to find out where Pucky is located!"
Marshall was the first to give up. With only his telepathic capability he could not discover the mouse-beaver’s whereabouts. Shortly thereafter Lloyd also confessed he was not able to trace him down.
"It's for sure he's screened off his thought emanations again. Nobody can do it as well as..." Fellmer Lloyd fell silent, raising his head to look upward in surprise. "My Lord," he said, still using Soltenite speech like all the others, "Springer police are going to board us. They'll land here in three minutes. What's gone wrong?"
Rhodan, Bell and Marshall looked at him tensely. Lloyd was not only capable of identifying brain-wave patterns, he could also track people's approach, tell who they were, why they were coming and whether with good or bad intentions. The approaching police contingent was scanned by him to see what was on their minds.
"It has something to do with Pucky. There've been unexplained happenings everywhere—here in Lus, in Titon, in Mold and Fror, down below in the underground areas and also here at the space docks! Early this morning. Three robots were whizzed through the air in a high loop and they crashed against a steel converter plant five km away... No, they don't suspect us directly but they want to check us over to see if we're all accounted for."
Mold and Fror were two other cities of this most important of all Springer worlds.
Rhodan was somewhat at a loss. "Marshall, just what is going on with your mutants? Last night Tschubai, Lloyd, Noir and Kakuta made a side excursion on their own... and now it's Pucky. He knows very well that he must not be seen under any circumstances!"
"There's my thumb again!" muttered Bell. "And this lousy year of 2044..."
"To the devil with your ridiculous thumb!" interrupted Rhodan frigidly. "I can't take any more of that, so spare me that nonsense!"
"The Springer police are coming on board," announced Lloyd.
The authorities came in and started interrogating them. When had they left the city of Lus? What route had they followed to get here?
The 17 men were besieged by a hundred questions. Each was interviewed by another Springer, always in another cabin. For Rhodan and his men the situation was becoming critical. Marshall asked him telepathically if he should put the mutants into action but Rhodan did not think it was dangerous enough yet for such a manoeuvre.
Hold off, Marshall.
As Capt. Maixpe, Rhodan was interrogated by two Springer police officers. The two men from the alien control section knew their work well.
"We ought to send off a hypercom dispatch to Solten," one of the Springers was suggesting to his colleague. "That way we can get some further information about this freighter's crew."
This was of course something that must not happen.
Marshall, Rhodan called telepathically to his mutant chief,alert André Noir! The two Springers questioning me want to send a hypercom message to Solten and obtain information about us. Do you understand?
Got you, Chief!
"Yes, that's something I'd attend to right away," said the other Springer. "You can get in touch with the main hypercom station by radio. The answer should tell us... Soltenite, I'd like to know where you learned how to play our card game Bando-Bando!"
The change of subject indicated that their thoughts had ceased concerning a hypercom message to Solten. Although he was being questioned down in hold #2, Noir the hypno-mutant was nevertheless able to concentrate with such incredible intensity that the two Alien Control officers up in Control Central received a hypnotic block. It was so strong that it was going to require several weeks before it gradually faded and would permit them to remember that they had ever wanted to put in a call to Solten.
Meanwhile Rhodan, acting the role of Capt. Maixpe, was vociferously explaining where he had learned Bando-Bando, stating that since he always won a lot he was feared everywhere as a formidable player.
"Ye gods!" growled the taller of the two Springers. "Why have you created such liars?! Hey, Soltenite... you humphead! Why don't you try just once to quit telling lies? Did you bring that pack of cards with you, Anxga?"
Apparently the men in the Alien Control service occasionally permitted themselves a relaxation from their line of duty. The cards were dealt, the ante was set and Rhodan immediately raised it. The complicated game with its many variables began. And Rhodan played his worst card.
"Dealer!" snapped the tall Springer.
Anxga grinned his satisfaction. He won the first play. He also won the next one. The Soltenite appeared to have lost but then he showed the Springers his final card.
"I win, gentlemen—forgive me." There was a note of impudence in his servility. "Care for another game?"
"Continue!" Anxga demanded.
But by the fourth game Anxga cursed and threw down the cards. "These liars use their reputation for hustling, too! You think they're always handing you a line and sudden
ly they're not—so they take you in!"
"My Lords," said Maixpe obsequiously, "I didn't quite understand that last part. But this particular pot is mine. You threw away your cards. At least that's what the rules say, isn't it, my Lords?"
An hour later 23 Springers from Alien Control left the Lorch-Arto. As they got into their police carrier and took off from the dock landing, Anxga and his colleague were still fuming about the mendacious race of Soltenites.
Rhodan gave his men no time to discuss the incident. "Where's Pucky? What's that little devil been up to?"
No one could answer his questions. Only fragments had been picked up from the thoughts of the interrogating officers concerning the mysterious and supernatural-seeming events that had occurred in Titon, Lus, Mold and Fror. It gave them a picture which they were only later able to piece together.
• • •
It had started when Pucky heard two Springer robots enter the Lorch-Arto. They even entered the spares storage room of the freighter. Pucky had gone back into his hiding place in the air-regenerator case and he waited. He hadn't ever been able to make much out of the distorted positronic impulses of these mechanical men but nevertheless he determined that one of these two was a specialist because his radiations were noticeably different from the other's emanations.
That's when the trouble began for Pucky.
This special robot which had been built by the Springers for use in the space wharf and repair dock area was nothing more than a device for taking inventories. It went through every freighter in the docks, room by room, taking a complete inventory of everything in the cabins and holds. This was so that later if any claims were made by a ship's crew it would be possible to determine whether or not a theft had occurred during the docking time.
The special robot was already aware that something wasn't right about the air-regenerator case. And Pucky was aware on his part that this robot's radically different X-ray vision spelled danger, so he teleported. But the hound of misfortune seemed to be at his heels. He rematerialized in the stern section where three work robots spotted him at once.
