by Hans Kneifel
The massive being ran onwards, continuing to destroy whatever was in its path. Above the roofs Rhodan saw how the remnants of the robots were being thrown upwards on the other side of the passageway. He snapped his helmet's faceplate shut and turned to Mahal. "Let's get out! And I mean fast—everything's about to blow up here." Then he called, "Denetree! Shimon! Are you all right?"
"We're headed towards the exit," Shimon replied over the com. "We'll wait for you outside on the ice."
Rhodan and Mahal ran as fast as they could from the faint noises that accompanied the Halutian on its way through the ice. They would not nearly be able to keep up with it.
Kealil Ron and Arsis called in. "We're also right by the ramp," the pilot said. "The destruction is continuing. The systems are turning themselves on and off. There are a lot of looping discharges as well as other damage."
"Are Ameda and Solina all right?"
"Don't worry," Ameda called. "We'll manage!"
The ground shook every few seconds. Behind the fleeing team, steam and smoke billowed out. Electrical discharges and huge sparks drove them towards the exit, up the ramp, and onwards. The only hope of surviving the inferno lay outside on the ice expanse, as far away as possible from the rock and the crevice in the ice.
Denetree lagged thirty steps behind Shimon and recognized parts of the path that they had taken coming in. She gasped in exhaustion. Pain and weariness gripped her knees. She was hungry and sipped constantly from her spacesuit's supply of drinking water. She wanted just one thing: to lie down and sleep for a long time.
Behind her rose a massive wall. To the right of it, next to one of the cube-shaped buildings, masses of ice had penetrated, forming several swollen and crooked columns twisted around each other and reaching to the ceiling. To the left was a low mound of debris that resembled an ice-covered bench. Denetree went to it and sat down, resting against her soft backpack as it pressed the ice behind her. Clouds of sweat-moist air escaped as she opened her spacesuit.
She cautiously inhaled the icy air and closed, only for a moment, her eyes. Crouched between the thick moss cushions of the oxygen trees, next to her brother Venron, the only one she could talk freely with. They told each other the stories they had made up about the stars. About the freedom that there must be among them, the adventures ...
A long, shuddering vibration and a ringing clatter made Denetree give a start. Just then she saw how between Shimon, who had come to a stop, and the place where she was sitting, the frozen stalactites were coming loose and falling to the floor. They shattered, throwing off large, sharp-edged splinters, and within a few seconds had piled up into a growing, impenetrable wall next to the gigantic mirror-like sheet of ice. An ice prison had formed around Denetree. "Isaias," she called frantically. "I'm closed in! Please help me!"
She had leaped up from the bench and was confronted with obstacles that were too high and too massive to climb over or go around. Then she heard Shimon's answer over her helmet speaker. "Damn. I don't know what I can do. Let me think ... "
Denetree turned around helplessly. Again several cubic meters of icicles fell to the floor with a deafening crash. If I can perhaps melt through the ice sheet ... she thought and felt for her beamer. But it was much too heavy for her hand, while the ice was far too thick to melt ...
It all happened much too quickly. Only later did she recall what she had seen and realized its significance. Cracks appeared in the huge sheet of ice in front of her. Then something shattered the ice wall in a white explosion. A hurtling, red-glowing mass flew towards Denetree, its powerful limbs pounding rapidly on the floor.
Time suddenly seemed to pass very slowly. Thousands of jagged crystal shards flew in all directions with a tinkling sound. The fragments of ice reflected in the icy, milkily illuminated air a multitude of tiny images that were by turns indistinct, distorted, and strikingly sharp. All showed a single figure: a four-armed being with three glowing red eyes, running on its legs and arms. Despite its horrific appearance, it was a promise of salvation, like an ultimate terror that transformed within a fraction of a second into a dreamily gentle promise of rescue. As the images reflected in the crystal shards disappeared and fell shattering to the floor, a powerful arm wrapped around Denetree and ran onwards.
She felt herself seized, lifted high and shoved forward. Brusquely, yes, but also with the tenderness of some huge divine being.
The giant stormed on straight ahead with her. Through crashing obstacles, over icy ground, under the deadly spears of the stalactites, and towards the misty brightness in which she thought she could make out the vague outline of the exo-biologist. She heard the thunder of massive limbs on the ice only as though from somewhere far away.
Then. as the ear-numbing clangor of the falling ice fragments rang out, the grip of the short limbs loosened.
The Keeper!
The Keeper himself carried her with all his fatherly love through the knife-sharp shards and would save her unscathed.
She lost consciousness. A welcome weakness, darkness, and sleepiness came over her. She, Denetree, who was touched and carried by the arm of the divinity, slipped out of the secure hold and fell heavily on the ground.
Fleetingly, she caught a glimpse of three glowing red eyes, then the colossus that seemed as big as a Shift had disappeared behind the collapsing all of ice.
"What ... was that?" Shimon exclaimed from the helmet speaker.
Denetree lay there as though frozen for a moment. She then, somehow got back on her feet and looked around helplessly. She had been hopelessly overwhelmed by the rapid-fire succession of events.
Again the thousands of fragments of the stalactite wall flew apart and the Keeper came back. He slowed to a stop in a cloud of crystal splinters, went to Denetree, and as he stood upright, reached out two of the four arms. Now Denetree saw the Keeper clearly. He was twice her size. When the jaws under the oversized eyes opened, icy terror gripped Denetree for the space of a thought. But then the Keeper's voice boomed and swept her fear away. "You should not suffer because of me, little one." The rumbling called down another hail of icicles. The arms were outstretched, gigantic six-fingered hands held Denetree, and the Keeper whirled around and stormed away with her, through the break in the ice wall.
Two shorter arms folded over Denetree's body and protected her from the shards as the Keeper slammed into the wall. As he thundered along, she heard his powerful voice again. "Have no fear, my little one! I will not harm you. It will soon be over."
She fleetingly spotted Isaias Shimon, who stood like a pillar of ice as the Keeper raced past him and leaped into the gap by the rock wall. Isaias had no idea who it was. Fear gripped him tightly. Absolute fear.
Like a blazing cannonball, the Keeper tore the narrow gap apart and trampled the debris to tiny pieces. With a long leap he shot through the half-collapsed entrance and out onto the expanse of polar ice. He ran another hundred giant steps further, then slowed his thundering movements. As he came to a stop, he bent over slowly and set Denetree down with astonishing delicacy.
"It is all over, little one," he roared. His voice echoed across the ice. Then the Keeper suddenly stormed on, in the direction of where the Space-Jet had landed. Denetree slowly straightened up, sat in the snow, and stared uncomprehending after him. Behind the Keeper, a double layer of snow and ice crystals whirled in the air, tossed up by his racing steps.
She was saved.
The Keeper—he existed! He had set her down on the ice as gently as though she were a helpless baby. Her brother and the Star Seekers, were dead. The Ship was in the past, and she had experienced a miracle that easily outweighed everything else. She felt dizzy, and she had difficulty taking in her surroundings as she stood up and looked for the other members of the team.
Her body was bathed in an uncontrollable, seethingly hot feeling of happiness.
Above her swirled a huge swarm like a tornado. First it formed a point to the side, which floated down in an elegant arc toward something out of
Denetree's view. Then it twisted vertically into the sky. The majority of the fire spindles followed and soon formed a shining funnel whose bottom section was probably revolving around the Space-Jet.
I'm alive. I've escaped from the ice. The Keeper saved me, she thought. She staggered. Her tiredness had disappeared. The voices in her helmet speakers were meaningless. She tried to comprehend her blissful experience. Somewhere behind her, the others were fighting their way out of the ice.
Fascinated, she observed the spindles. Minutes later she, as well as the other team members behind her, watched the Space-Jet take off without any difficulties. It headed almost straight up into the sky overhead, and disappeared along with the light beings.
She took a deep breath, coughed, and forced herself to be coherent as she spoke. "Denetree calling Perry Rhodan," she said loudly, trying to suppress her hoarseness. "The Keeper took off in the PALENQUE's Space-Jet! Perry! It was really him! The Keeper exists!"
After a long pause, Rhodan replied: "Where are you, Denetree?"
"He set me down by the exit. I'm all right—I'm not hurt."
"Good." Denetree thought she could hear Rhodan swallow. "Wait for us," he then said. "We're coming."
Suddenly she realized that she was freezing. She closed her spacesuit, turned around, and waited for her companions.
One after another, the two groups slid and climbed along the trail of devastation that the Halutian had left behind in the last stretch through the ice crevice and to the surface. The falling snow and the storm had stopped, and in the air above the complex no more glowing spindles were to be seen.
Denetree came slowly towards Rhodan and Shimon. "He spoke to me, Perry," she said, still stunned. "'Little one. My little one,' he said. And he roared, but it didn't frighten me."
"That's the way Halutians are when they like someone," Rhodan replied.
"Halutian ... ? The Keeper is a Halutian, like you showed me?"
"So I assume. We'll analyze our suit cameras' shots later. I'm sure they'll prove it." Rhodan's expression showed considerable surprise and consternation. "By running amok, he saved us all. Why he stole the Space-Jet and where he's going ... I have no idea. Did he tell you his name?"
"The Keeper has a name?" Denetree thought about it for a moment. "No. He didn't say anything. He protected me, and set me down as though he was afraid he might hurt me."
"Halutian or no Halutian, let's get back to the Shift," Ameda said practically. "It's cold and we won't get any further staying out here."
"Right," Mahal added. "If we were Halutians, we'd be able to fly around freely."
"In stolen Space-Jets. That's the big mystery," Rhodan said and set out. "What's he up to? Why would a Halutian need our Jet, anyway?"
A helpless shrug was all that anyone could manage.
One thing was clear: the fire spindles apparently possessed a definite power of discrimination. They had not mistaken the four-armed Halutian for a human form, and they had no objection to him removing the two-armed two-leggers' space vehicle from their planet.
The ground trembled once more. Solina pointed to a dark spot in the white wilderness. "There's our Shift. We don't need a compass now, Perry."
"Fine. Let's go."
They set out with tired steps. A few opened their helmets and tried not to choke on the cold air. Later, Rhodan told himself, the Syntrons could evaluate the pictures taken by their suit cameras. That would confirm his suspicions. Perhaps even the crazy one that he kept to himself. In that case, he would have to call for help. Very special help ...
The vibration of the ice grew stronger, then ebbed away, ceased entirely, but returned stronger than ever. Then, behind them, a rounded object pushed up out of the ice with a thunderous cracking. It was steel gray and as large as a Shift. Sheets of ice, snow, and man-sized fragments whirled into the air and rained on the ground. A cylinder with a hemispherical end grew five ... ten ... fifteen meters into the air. It became a tower with a round cap that rose creakingly and in which large openings appeared.
"Get out of here!" Rhodan shouted.
The team members ran clumsily towards the Shift. Flickering lights appeared in the openings beneath the hemispherical roof of the thick tube, then a massive projector barrel pushed slowly outwards. The top of the tower began to turn; the projector seemed to be searching for a target, raising and lowering and swinging back and forth. Rhodan was certain that this massive tower was a relic of the base from the time of the Akonians' struggle against the spindles.
He ran as fast as he could away from the gun turret, but if he and the other fleeing team members were the intended targets, another fifty meters' distance would mean absolutely nothing.
The projector or the power generator within the steel tower hummed. The sound frequency increased and climbed into the ultrasonic range. The team members had put about 300 meters between them and the machine when the first stream of fire shot out of the projector. A deafening shriek echoed over the ice. The dazzling beam struck the black dome of the wreck that had melted its way into the ice, causing it to glow and then explode. The projector sank and rose several times. Again explosions shook the ground. Despite the danger, the team members slowed down and then looked back at destructive process.
The old Akonians' weapon operated like an especially powerful heat ray. The ice was transformed into enormous clouds of steam from which pieces of glowing debris from the exploding wreck were hurtled in all directions. The running team members cast long, deep shadows in the glare of the flaming rays. The ice under their feet trembled and shook ceaselessly. After several minutes, and about ten discharges, each one accompanied by the shrill shrieking, the cap of the gun turret began to glow red, then became radiantly white and melted away. The tower retracted grindingly back into the ground, engulfed by steam and flames. From the deep funnel in the ice, hidden behind clouds of smoke, tremendous explosions could be heard.
The noise had made the team members half deaf. They went on more slowly and frequently looked back. The trembling had ceased.
Rhodan silently considered recent events. There were no solid facts. The mysteries were neither growing fewer nor clearer. He was the first one to find his voice again.
"The fire spindles have realized that the Halutian was fighting against the machines in the old base. So they allowed him to leave the planet. The outburst of energy will attract them again, I think."
"Perhaps the document that we found will give us information. This wreck ... it was part of the second ship, the LEMCHA OVIR." It was clear from Solina's voice that she was exhausted.
"Not exactly a part of it," Rhodan corrected. "At least, the original builders didn't include it in their blueprints." He explained what Kalymel had told him about the black sphere and his own speculations.
"Do you mean the LEMCHA OVIR carried that black sphere along for thousands of years?" Denetree asked in disbelief.
"That's exactly what he means," Arsis put in. "And that ancient energy cannon probably found no better target."
"Then it wasn't by chance that it fired at the Halutian's ship and not at the Shift?" Ameda wanted to know. "It was some kind of revenge for the destruction of the base—or a counter-attack?"
"Perhaps," Rhodan replied, "but its possible that the damage that the Halutian caused in the base could have set off every possible automatic response. And there might have been chain reactions of various kinds."
"The main thing is that it spared us," Shimon said, "but we're still a long way from being safe."
The darkness had decreased; a gray strip grew above the horizon. Rhodan took off his right glove and touched a finger to his wristband. Not working. The Shift seemed to be getting closer in the dim morning light. Silently, again with closed spacesuit helmets, the team members reached the craft which was half-buried in snow, and they clambered inside one by one. The interior was quite cramped, so their backpacks had to be piled up in the airlock.
Rhodan waited patiently outside and looked up at the sky.
He thought of various possible ways to communicate with the glowing beings now that they had demonstrated their intelligence. But even some time after the spectacular energy discharge, no light spindle swarm made an appearance.
Solina waved him into the airlock. The outer hatch closed behind him. "It's a little tight but it's warm," the historian said with a brief, inviting gesture. "However, I'm afraid that a good sleep will probably be impossible."
"Whatever happens," Kealil Ron said, drawing some coffee-like beverage from the tap, "we can wait a while without starving to death."
"But something should happen soon," Rhodan said, forcing himself to smile confidently.
Where was the Halutian taking the Space-Jet? They could only speculate. The PALENQUE and the LAS-TOOR were only partly operational. Their hyperdetectors would not have been able to follow the Jet very far. And even if Rhodan's suspicions turned out to be correct—it did not help him any further with this question. He played back the images registered by his spacesuit camera and followed the four-armed figure in its red jumpsuit. No, it couldn't be ...
In the narrow confines of the Shift cockpit, Rhodan sat in a chair, drank the strongly sweetened Akonian coffee. With his eyes closed, he thought long and hard for a way out of their situation. He had dozed off for a few minutes when the pilot's voice startled him awake. "There they are! More than when we landed!"
Rhodan nodded gravely and, in his own mind, gathered up his nerve. Then he reached out his hand and said to Hyman Mahal, "Would you please let me have your beamer?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"I'm going outside," Rhodan replied with firm determination, "and I'm going to force every single one of those fire spindles to accept us as their new best friends."
"Good luck," Solina said, shaking her head.
