by Perry Rhodan
Perry Rhodan
Posbis #111
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SEEDS OF RUIN
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1/ DREADFUL DILEMMA
THE SURFACE OF THE SEA stretched like a mirror in the silvery light of a full moon. There was no surf and if it had not been for the noise of the people on the patio and the park-like grounds it would have been a beautiful moonlit night on a tranquil Florida beach.
A party was in full swing.
The party was given by Sr. John Rengall, who had invited his friends to a farewell dinner before leaving his vacation home the next morning to return to Terrania. His spouse, Lady Lydia, was to accompany him on his return to the comfortable ranch house awaiting them on the shores of Lake Goshun near Terrania.
The host, a tall dark-haired Briton, attended to his guests, who were mostly Americans in whose country he customarily spent his vacations. Florida's beach, its warm climate and pleasant water made life highly enjoyable to him.
At the bar, which had been set up in the open air where it afforded a magnificent view of the silver-lit sea, he met Dr. Phillip Norris, an English physician who had lived in the United States for many years.
"Hello, Phil!" his host greeted him. "Having a good time?"
The doctor nodded and laughed, his eyes sparkling vivaciously, although Sir John thought he could detect a hint of something else. "It's great fun, John. Thank you. But why didn't you invite a few more girls?"
Rengall laughed, reaching for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "May I pour you another one or did you already have more than enough?"
Norris looked disapprovingly at the bottle. "Don't you have anything better to offer..."
"Now listen," Rengall replied, a little offended. "This is the best whiskey you can buy. If this isn't good enough for you, what else can I give you?"
Norris answered with the single word: "Liquitiv!"
Rengall put the bottle abruptly down on the bar. "That damn poison! You too?"
The physician took his friend by the sleeve. "Not so loud! Don't let everybody know that I am addicted—I, a physician! But, on the other hand, what does it matter? Millions of people are addicted to the stuff—and soon we won't be able to get it anymore. You ought to know that better than I, being an official of the Solar Security Service."
"Only a very minor one," Rengall rebutted. It disconcerted him when his job with the Secret Service was mentioned in public. "I don't know any more than others."
Norris pulled Rengall to a little bench overlooking the sea. It was concealed from the guests in the garden by a few palms. The music was muted enough so that they could talk to each other without shouting. "What is your official opinion, John? You've got to tell me! I've got more than a dozen prominent patients who are hooked on this drug just like myself. They came to me for help since their supply of Liquitiv stopped a week ago. It's only obtainable on the shady side of the street at exorbitant prices. A thousand dollars a bottle with no more than two cubic centimeters—just a sip, that's all. But it helps six days if you're lucky."
"I tasted that sweet liqueur once and never will again, Phil. I just didn't like it. That was the end of it. I suspected the danger as little as anyone else and was simply lucky that I didn't become hooked on it. When I later saw that those taking Liquitiv regularly became rejuvenated and increased their vitality I almost took up drinking the stuff. Who could have imagined at the time that a harmless-looking liqueur would turn out to be the most horrible poison in the Galaxy?"
"Please tell me what you know," Norris urged him. "I would like to apply your knowledge to the experiments I have conducted. I've tried to withdraw from the drug but I failed dismally, John. After a week I couldn't stand the headache and nausea anymore. It nearly drove me rocko (nuts)."
Rengall looked at him with deep compassion. All joy had disappeared from his face as if it had been wiped off. He was aware of the ominous cloud he faced upon returning to his duty tomorrow, a peril which threatened all humanity—unless a solution to the dilemma could be found.
And what a terrible dilemma it was!
Rengall put his hand on the shoulder of his friend. "We still don't know very much, Phil. Although we followed up the details of thousands of cases with painstaking work, only one point has been established: after the second or third dose of Liquitiv, a radical process of rejuvenation commences. A person not only feels younger but their fresh looks tell them they're getting younger. This obvious success has induced all Liquitiv drinkers to consume more than the label recommended. Drinking frequently to such excess only served to hide the symptoms of an acquired addiction. Even people who could afford the expensive habit of getting drunk on Liquitiv suffered no damage to their health or unpleasant side effects. However by analyzing numerous individual cases one result clearly became apparent: anyone taking Liquitiv six times had become incurably addicted to it. When this fact was revealed, we suddenly had the explanation for a series of mysterious fatalities in emergency clinics and hospitals of people whose last stage was spent in a delirium. The addiction is incurable and if the patient is deprived of Liquitiv for some reason or other, he is condemned to die in agony."
"I have had nothing to drink in five days," Norris admitted. "Simply because there is nothing for sale. Why is that? The government should..."
"The government has not restricted the import but there is much less of it available now. They want to put us under pressure."
"Are all of us to be driven mad?" Norris cried out in desperation. He had dropped his mask and no longer resembled the reputable physician who inspired so much confidence in his select clientele. "It affects millions of people..."
"...none of whom can hope to live more than seven or eight years after they took the first drink of Liquitiv," Rengall interjected. "You may know that 12 years and four months after the start of a regular use of Liquitiv they enter the final phase of decay. The initial rejuvenation ceases and the process reverses itself. I have seen the dead of Lepso, Phil. It was not a pretty sight. If we don't find something to stop the habit it will be just as sordid on Earth. Once they are hooked, they can't stop taking the dope or they will wind up insane. And if they keep drinking it, it is certain to kill them. There seems to be no alternative."
"It is better to die in eight years than to be mad in four," Phil Norris groaned. He straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching. He pretended that nothing was wrong and changed the subject. "A gorgeous night, John, wouldn't you say?"
A woman walked between the palms and stopped before the bench. "Oh, this is where you are! And talking about moonshine? I didn't know that you appreciated such romantic scenery, John. And you, Doc, you astonish me even more."
The voice of the woman sounded a little sarcastic and supercilious. She wore a low-cut evening gown which enhanced her beautiful and youthful figure. She bent down and kissed Rengall on the forehead.
"Ali... this romantic mood is so alluring, my love," Rengall sighed, pulling his wife onto the bench. "But our friend Phil is in great trouble."
"Trouble? Aren't people getting sick anymore?"
However Norris was not in a mood for joking. "It's much worse than that, Lady Lydia," he explained in a painful effort. "It's been five days since I had any Liquitiv."
Rengall was jolted by the surprise. It was too late to warn his friend. The secret was out.
Lydia gave her husband a pert glance and turned to Norris. "5 days? That's a long time to do without your favorite drink. Did you run out of it?"
"I don't know where to buy it anymore.
"If that's all that's troubling you, I'll be glad to help you out, Phil. How much do you need?"
"Lydia!" Renga
ll admonished her in a sharp tone. He got up and stared at the water of the gulf.
"What's the matter, dear? Isn't Phil supposed to know?"
"Was it necessary?"
"You can't leave an old friend like Phil to his fate and watch him die of thirst. I didn't know you were that sanctimonious. Now please go and get a few flagons from my room. You know where they are."
Phil Norris rose and put his hand on Rengall's arm. "Your wife, John she's also addicted. Why didn't you tell me?"
Lydia shook her head. "Addicted Since when do you call it an addiction if you like to sip a fine liqueur?"
Rengall looked at Norris. "You better explain it to her. I was afraid you might learn the sad truth. Sorry, old boy, to have deceived you. But now you'll get your medicine again."
He left without saying another word. Lydia followed him with her eyes in astonishment. "What do you mean, Phil? Addiction? Speak up!"
"Are you really that innocent, Lady Lydia? Didn't your husband explain it to you? Or have you began to indulge in Liquitiv without his knowledge?"
"Of course! Husbands don't have to know everything."
"In this case it would have been better to be frank," Phil Norris sighed and then explained to the wife of his friend the facts of the insidious liqueur and its distribution by a power-mad race in the Galaxy.
When he ended there was a long silence. Before Lady Rengall could utter a word they heard the sound of quickly approaching steps. It was Sir John. He stopped in front of them and stared in disbelief. "There is not a bottle of Liquitiv left in your room," he said in a toneless voice. "The drawer in your desk has been forced open and your whole supply was stolen."
Phil Norris saw his last hope fade away. He got up slowly and walked away without uttering a word.
"Who could have known that we hid the Liquitiv in the desk?" Lydia whispered, disturbed. "We kept it a secret because that's what you wanted. Although I never knew why you were so upset when you first learned that I was drinking the liqueur regularly, I abided by your request. You must admit though, that the stuff made me look younger—and you liked that. We have learned too late that it is a devilish poison and I was the last to know."
Rengall sat down and embraced his wife. "I've lost my interest in the party. I wish everybody would go home. We can't expect to find help anywhere. Liquitiv is more precious than gold because it means life itself to those drinking it. Even if one of our friends has an abundant supply of Liquitiv, he won't part with it. Besides, I don't want anybody to know about it. As a government official..."
"Even if my life depends on it?"
He caressed her arm. "We'll be in Terrania before then, darling. I just would like to know who the scoundrel is who stole the stuff. It must have been an inside job. Maybe one of the servants. These drug fiends will try anything to get their hands on their dope."
The music broke off abruptly with a sharp discord. Somebody screamed loudly and desperately. Another man cursed. There was a slapping sound followed by a crash on the floor.
Rengall jumped up. Leaving his wife behind he ran across the well-kept lawn in the direction of the house. In the lantern light he saw his guests crowding around the bar and the podium of the orchestra.
Somebody had struck down a man. Rengall recognized Dr. Norris lying on the floor. "What happened?" he demanded.
One of the musicians pointed to his broken bass fiddle. "He went crazy, sir. He tore the instrument from my hands, jumped on it with both feet and demolished it. He was ranting and raving like a madman, shouting that it's all over and useless. I'm ordinarily a peaceful man, sir."
"Maybe you should be a boxer instead of a musician."
A man in a tuxedo stepped forward, smoothing his hair. "I did it, Sir John."
It was Gary Bascall, the manager of the Golf Club. "What else could I do? He acted berserk and would have smashed the entire orchestra. Somebody had to restrain him. I don't know what came over him but..."
"Don't worry, Gary. It's not your fault." Rengall looked at Phil and saw that he was unconscious. "Gary, help me carry him into my room. We'll put him on the couch and if he recovers..."
They carried him upstairs. Then Bascall inquired: "What do you mean... if he recovers? Why shouldn't he come to? I admit it was a sharp blow but nobody ever failed to wake up after I put him to sleep like this."
"That's not what I meant," Rengall explained. "Dr. Norris is a dope addict. He drinks Liquitiv."
"So what?" The manager was unimpressed. "Who doesn't nowadays?"
Rengall saw a glimmer of hope on the dark horizon of his depressed mood. "Are you taking it too?" he asked, and continued when Bascall nodded affirmatively: "Could you get me a few small bottles? When Phil wakes up, he must have his dose or he'll rock off again. I had a little stashed away but somebody stole it."
"Stole it?" Bascall was astounded. "Some people get the donkest ideas nowadays. Of course we have plenty of it at the Club. Our members drink hardly anything else, except occasionally some whiskey or Vurguzz. But nothing can beat Liquitiv. If I'm not mistaken we have more than a thousand flasks in stock. How many would you like?"
"If you can spare a hundred small bottles, Gary...?"
"Why not?" the manager said. "I'll get my car and drive over right away. Do you have the money?"
Rengall handed him the customary price and added a generous tip. Had he known the truth, Gary missed his chance that evening to become rich. The least Rengall could do was to reward him with a well-deserved tip.
When Phil Norris woke up a few hours later, he failed to remember his paroxysm. His hands still trembled as he took the flask offered by Rengall and gulped its contents. The effect was almost instantaneous: his tired eyes shone brightly again and his nausea abated. "Where did you scrounge this up, John?"
"I'll tell you a secret, Phil: I advise you to get up first thing in the morning and drive over to the Golf Club. Gary Bascall, the manager, has a bar loaded with the stuff at the usual price."
"Doesn't he know about the shortage?"
"Apparently not yet, Phil. He probably buys his supply once every few months and doesn't keep himself informed about the changing market. If he finds out the truth, he'll be mad as hell but by that time the narcotic may be plentiful again. Nobody can foretell what will happen."
"Maybe so but I'm going to be prudent and take my dose only every five or six days," Phil replied. "It'll be enough to stay normal."
"Yes," Rengall agreed. "You will be normal and stay alive." He laughed grimly. "You can go to Bascall and assure him that you have no hard feelings because he knocked you out and use the occasion to buy some more Liquitiv from him."
Phil Norris got up and paced the floor. All of a sudden he stopped before his friend. "You will be flying to Terrania tomorrow, John. If there is any remedy for us, it will have to come from there. I hope you won't forget your old friends."
"If we succeed in developing an antidote, it will benefit everyone, Phil; nobody will be forgotten. Now take care of yourself. I hope you make it home safely."
• • •
The rocket clipper raced through the uppermost layer of the stratosphere and soon descended on the Asiatic continent to land at Terrania, the capital of the Solar System. Here, where the largest spaceport and the mightiest metropolis of the terrestrial globe were situated, a US Airforce pilot named Perry Rhodan had once landed upon returning in his Lunar rocket from the Moon, where he had gained the powerful support of his Arkonide friends. From here, in the middle of the ancient Gobi Desert, humanity had taken its first steps on the way to the stars.
Sir John Rengall shunned the other passengers on the flight and took an airtaxi to his home on the lake as soon as he had gone through the customs facilities after arrival. He found a recorded message requesting him to report to his office as quickly as possible after his return.
When he faced his boss half an hour later, he was greeted by him, saying: "I knew I could depend on you, Maj. Rengall. The Ralph Torsten is ready to
take off in two hours. You will report aboard to Commander Maj. Heinrich Bellefjord. You are assigned together with three other officers as an escort team for this operation. The cruiser will fly to the United States where a cargo-spaceship will take on a shipment from the National Museum. Then you will transfer your team to the freighter and it will be your responsibility to see that the cargo is safely delivered to Rhodan..."
"...to Rhodan?"
The general nodded. "The Torsten and the cargo-spaceship will proceed directly from the United States to Okul. Distance 41,386 light-years. Rhodan is expecting you. You will be given further instructions at a preflight briefing. Maj. Bellefjord is informed about all details."
Rengall saluted. Joined by the three other men, he went to the spaceport where the Ralph Torsten was already waiting for them. The heavy cruiser had a spherical shape and measured 200 meters in diameter. The newly installed linear drive did away with the necessity of transitions through hyperspace because the ship was capable of flying a million times the velocity of light and maintaining direct visual observation.
Maj. Bellefjord's figure was a little stocky and he made a jovial impression. He greeted the four agents of the Solar Security Service and checked his watch. "We still have a good hour, gentlemen. Time enough to acquaint you with all pertinent events. You were on vacation, Maj. Rengall?"
"Yes: four weeks."
"Then you are probably still in the dark about the latest developments."
"2 weeks ago I received a secret report, bringing me up to date on the devastating effects of the consumption of Liquitiv. That's all I know."
"Please listen closely," Bellefjord said after making sure that his First Officer Capt. Raldini commenced the starting preparations. "In February of the year 2103, Rhodan discovered on Lepso, which is 8,500 light-years from us and serves as a trading port for goods shipped from all races, the ghoulish end result of Liquitiv. He unmasked the original producers: the Antis, members of the Baalol cult. It is a sect of priests which numbers over 200 million disciples throughout the Galaxy. This seems few but it is actually a potent force when one considers how widespread they are. They have a. temple for their followers on every planet. They are mutants, yes, and even worse for us, Anti-Mutants! With their mental powers they can frustrate the deployment of our own Mutant Corps."
