by Perry Rhodan
THE TROY PLOY
WHEN KHREST reveals that his ancient ancestors took the precaution of providing the Robot Regent with a safety switch, it gives Perry Rhodan an inspiration based on the old Greek warriors' trick: A future Trojan horse! Conceived on Terra. Constructed on Zalit. En route Arkon. In the battles against the Druufs the Giant Brain has concluded that there is need for living beings rather than robots as cannon fodder and the need is met with—
Perry Rhodan
Atlan And Arkon #76
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Recruits for Arkon
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1/ THE FRINGE CONNECTION
"We're far from being out of the woods yet. In fact, I think it's getting darker!"
Perry Rhodan looked up to encounter the grave surveillance of the speaker, who sat opposite him. Objectively he noted that the other's red stubble of hair was lying almost flat against his head, which though normal for most people was unnatural for Reginald Bell. The broad, rounded face reflected a reddish complexion, and a restless fire seemed to flicker behind his pale-blue eyes.
"That's putting it drastically, Bell, but of course you couldn't have expressed it more precisely. If something doesn't happen pretty soon, it really looks bad for us and the Earth."
The old man with the white hair nodded slowly. Seated on Rhodan's left at the conference table, his lean figure was bent with age but something. glittered in his eyes that was still vital and young. It was something that smouldered there like an inextinguishable fire of secret hope and trust.
Rhodan turned to him. "Khrest?" As a surviving descendant of the now extinct Arkonide ruling class, his opinion was always respected.
"I was about to agree with Bell, as far as his statement goes," replied the ancient Arkonide, "but I wanted to point out that the loss of our Kublai Khan has been more or less counterbalanced by a victory of sorts. The last traces of any data have been destroyed which would have led the robot Brain to any clues regarding the position of the Earth. There is no Topide living today who took part in the fighting at the time of the war in the Vega sector-at least none who still knows that he was there. True, we lost the Kublai Khan ..."
"Bell was covering more territory than that," Rhodan cut in, although not contradicting. "He was thinking of the overall situation. And that is certainly clear in the entire galaxy there are three power factors. The first of these you might say is the Druufs because they're going to constitute a menace for another 12 months or at least while the overlap front exists between the two time-planes. Then comes our undying titan, the robot Brain of the Arkonide Empire. It's true that at the moment he is sufficiently occupied with the Druuf invasion; but the day will come when he can turn his baleful attention to what is presumably his main mission in life-that is, to find us and bring us under his soulless domination. All of which marks us as the third factor."
At Rhodan's right sat another Arkonide. He was younger than Khrest, at least in outward appearance. Actually, Atlan was more than 10,000 years old. He had been rendered virtually immortal by means of his cell activator, which had been given to him by an unknown entity in ancient times. He had lived on Earth since the sinking of Atlantis and had become Rhodan's best ally. Or at least this relationship would prevail as long as his former homeland—Arkon—was being ruled by a robot brain.
Atlan spoke up loudly and clearly: "I'm afraid there is only one answer to the situation: we have to eliminate the robot Brain!"
This statement from an Arkonide came as a strange sort of shock but aside from that it was also practically unfeasible. The mighty Regent of Arkon was surrounded by an unassailable security network that protected him from all outside attacks.
But-what about attacks from within..."
Rhodan swiftly followed this train of thought. "We still only have seven super battleships of the Titan and Drusus class. We have lost one of our two teletransmitters, which can't be replaced. Our space fleet is large but by comparison with Arkon's power it is negligible. So how can we attack Arkon, unless it be from within?"
"From within?" echoed Atlan reflectively. His reddish eyes brightened. "Perhaps that is the solution."
At Bell's left sat a man who also had red hair. This was merely a coincidence and otherwise Capt. Hubert Gorlat could be taken for the unprepossessing type of everyday person. At least from outward appearances. Actually, Hubert Gorlat was an intelligence expert in Solar Security and was the direct assistant to Mercant. His special capacities were considerably greater than he would have led anyone to assume at first glance.
"That just might be up my alley," he said with attempted casualness but his voice trembled with eagerness.
Rhodan smiled. "I'm the one who called this conference together and you can rest assured that no one is sitting at this table just by chance." He looked at each man present, one by one. "So you're not going to be deprived of your share of duty, Gorlat."
"You mean you have a plan?" inquired Bell with sudden new interest. His ruddy complexion took on an even redder glow and some of his hair stubble began to stand up again.
"It's going to develop from the present meeting," Rhodan explained, thereby inferring that a contribution was required from each of them. "First, let's lay out the facts, once and for all. The Topides will no longer be able to give the Regent any clues as to the galactic position of the Earth. Nevertheless, the Regent will find us one day, just as soon as he sees no more danger in the Druuf situation and can concentrate on us. Nothing could hinder such a discovery then because the Arkonide Imperium has united and acquired new strength. Someday a ship will stumble across the Earth and radio the coordinates to Arkon. And then—ah yes, what then?"
Nobody volunteered an answer.
Finally the aged Khrest expressed himself gravely: "We would not survive the resulting attack," he said. "There's no doubt about that. Arkon would destroy Terra, although the two empires together could be lords of the universe. So the madness of former Earthy political leaders would be repeated on a cosmic scale."
"Your recommendation, Khrest?" Rhodan spoke the challenge factually and calmly, although a storm raged within him. He betrayed none of this by tone or expression.
Khrest sighed. "Am I supposed to have a suggestion? Well, perhaps I could give a hint or two, from which a recommendation might be constructed. For example: who is our opponent? The Arkonides? No, not those who are governed by the robot Brain. Our enemy is only the Brain, the Regent of Arkon! So it's him we must eradicate if we want peace with Arkon.
"Now the robot Brain was conceived of and built by Arkonides. It was only made Regent finally as the vitality and drive of the Arkonides began to fade. But at the time they built it they were still their bold and noble selves of old. Here is a point that I would like to emphasize as a possible key to success. Because I consider it to be completely out of the question that those scientists who constructed the Regent would not have installed some kind of safety device.
"Let's be logical, after all, gentlemen. The Arkonides constructed the robot Brain so that it could take over rulership of the Empire in case they themselves should degenerate and thus become unfit for leadership. We have to give them credit for recognizing the possibility of their own weaknesses. But by the same token we can surely presume that they were also shrewd enough not to just turn themselves over to the mercies of a positronic brain without any recourse. They had to retain the hope that someday there would again be capable Arkonides. And if so, an provision must be made whereby such regenerated Arkonides might take over the government once more. Therefore, I believe it may be clearly deduced from this that a failsafe circuit must exist, which it is expedient to find. Do I make myself clear?" He
looked about him searchingly and was met with inspired looks and glowing expressions.
Rhodan nodded to him. "Absolutely, Khrest. We understand what you mean. From that it would seem that the only problem facing us is to find out what this safety device looks like and how it is operated. Do you consider it a simple task to discover that?"
Khrest became a bit uncertain. "Not simple, by any means—but feasible."
Gorlat was the one who remained unmoved and factual. "Before we get all involved in that part of it, we should first figure out if it's possible at all to even approach the Regent."
Atlan suddenly entered the discussion again. "I'm inclined to go along with Khrest's line of thinking. The main thing is, we're firmly convinced there has to be a safety circuit. This possibility I wish to confirm, quite definitely. There is such a failsafe! So with that it is possible to eliminate the robot Brain without any fighting but by means of cunning alone and thus liberate the Arkonide Imperium from the power of its mechanical dictator!"
"The only question is," cautioned Bell, "How do we get to Arkon before we get blown to atoms?"
"That's what this meeting's for," answered Rhodan and he turned with visible interest to Atlan. "So you're completely convinced—along with Khrest—that such a safety circuit exists?"
"Completely, Barbarian!" replied Atlan. He used his favorite form of address for Rhodan, which was more out of old tradition than mockery. "Back in those days, 10,000 years ago, was I not an admiral of the original Arkonide Empire? Admittedly we were not thinking then of building a robot intelligence or of relaxing and letting it take over the task of rulership—yet at least in theory there were such ideas. Whenever such plans were discussed, I recall that the main item was always the idea of having some sort of safety device that would enable the right man, at the right time, to reprogram such a giant brain."
Rhodan nodded pensively. "That's the point: by the right man! And who would be the right one?"
Once more, as often happened with such delicate questions, the answer was silence.
Rhodan smiled as he looked around the table. "We should be very grateful to Khrest and Atlan for expressing their views on this. They happen to coincide exactly with my own suspicions. So I'm going to share with you something I've kept secret until now. For some months I've been giving considerable thought to the destiny of our agent, Jeremy Toffner. I think he may be one of the key figures who might pave the way for us into the impregnable Fortress Arkon."
Arkon was 34,000 light-years distant from Earth, actually lying outside the galaxy itself, in star cluster M13.
"Jeremy Toffner?" asked Bell, apparently trying to recall the name. It was no wonder, since the cosmic agents of the Solar Empire were scattered turnups the entire galaxy. "Who is he?"
"A man who was born on Venus. Capt. Gorlat will be able to produce all necessary data from the dossier files. But just now that's not important. Our main interest is where Toffner is located."
As Rhodan paused momentarily, Bell seemed ready to burst out of curiosity. "Alright—so where is he located?"
"On Zalit, fourth planet of the sun Voga."
The men looked at Rhodan, all of them obviously startled. Zalit was no more than three light-years from Arkon
• • •
...and the Zalites were obedient subjects of the Regent of Arkon.
Jeremy Toffner already knew this fact when he was secretly set down on the alien planet and left to his own resources. Having been provided with excellent identification papers by Solar Intelligence, he was confident of being able to pass any chance inspection. Experts in the medical research department had so altered his outward appearance that even his own grandmother would not have recognized him. Anyone he encountered would simply take him for a genuine Zalite, who as a descendant of the master race had the same general appearance of an Arkonide—with certain exceptions.
The Zalites were outwardly humanoid in appearance and generally had slender bodies with reddish brown skins. Their most exceptional feature was their copper-colored hair, which under favorable lighting took on the shimmer of greenish rust.
These people were considered to be the most intelligent of the colonial races under Arkonide rule and the latter's most reliable allies.
It had not been very difficult for Jeremy Toffner to become submerged in the vast population of Tagnor, consisting of some 30 million persons. Tagnor was the capital city of Zalit, covering an area that would have been equivalent to an entire state on Earth. Since the overall planetary population had greatly exceeded the eight billion mark, a concentration of merely 30 million citizens was no longer regarded as unusual.
As on the planet Arkon itself, here in Tagnor the typical funnel-shaped architecture predominated. Below at the 'spout' end of each building was the entrance, which led the visitor into a completely isolated world. The living quarters and various apartments were arranged in tiers around the widely flaring inner wall. This funneled architectural form expressed the predilection of the Arkonide for individual privacy and seclusion. The Zalites had carried over this custom from their forefathers and retained it.
The largest cone-shaped edifice belonged to the government, at the head of which was the Zarlt. This Zarlt, or dictator, was subordinate to the robot Brain of Arkon and responded to all of the latter's wishes.
Even though Toffner could manage to escape the attention of the numerous guards and sentinels here, nevertheless he could never rid himself of a lingering uneasiness. He was located too close to the lion's den. Arkon was that brooding lair and it was way too close. If he were to be discovered, it would probably happen so fast that he wouldn't have a chance to destroy his secret data. Perhaps he wouldn't even have a chance to kill himself in time to avoid a hearing and examination which could have the most dire consequences for the Earth.
The super civilization of the Zalites manifested itself now m a reversion to forms of barbarity and savagery. Although not as degenerated as the Arkonides, they were still afflicted with that boredom which all perfection brings with it. They had to do something to escape it, and since there was an overabundance of technologies available to them, they misused their sciences by establishing conditions which had long ago submerged into mists of the past.
Jeremy Toffner speculated about these things as he settled himself in Tagnor. There was no officially acceptable business he might get into without at least attracting the attention of the perennially suspicious authorities. On the other hand, if he turned to any activity that was even partially illegal, he automatically came to know certain Zalites and even governmental agencies that did not adhere quite as rigorously to the letter of the law.
For example, the operation of the fighting arenas was entirely permissible and even encouraged by the State. Nevertheless there was an air of illegality about it that nobody would either confirm or deny. It was a rather curious situation for which Toffner could find no explanation.
He had taken up living quarters in one of the inverted cone structures but for the most part he kept himself in subterranean areas such as in the spacious halls and chambers under the principal arena. Down there he knew every nook and corner, every hideout and passage-way. And there also he had concealed the secret equipment that every cosmic agent of the Solar Empire was furnished, no matter where he was.
The rather good-sized metal case contained the hypercom gear, which he used at set intervals to advise the relay station somewhere in space that he was still alive. By means of this hyperspace communication equipment he received his orders and instructions. As the sole Terranian on Zalit, he had only this one small tie to Earthly humanity.
Almost four months ago he had just obtained a permit from the authorities to promote and arrange mass battles between the bloodthirsty Hhracks and the voluntary gladiators. His prestige had grown at least in the eyes of those who made a livelihood from the fights. They had acclaimed him for his sudden rise to means and assured him high percentages off their winnings.
This was a
ll to the good for Toffner. To live cost money, even here on Zalit. And the expense reserves he'd been furnished with were not inexhaustible.
That day before Toffner went home he had paid a visit to his secret chamber deep in the rocky substrata. His routine report was not due yet, but it may have been an instinctive hunch that warned him to check the place. At any rate he was not overly surprised to see his red signal lamp light up as he stepped into the· room. It meant that a hypercom contact was desired from the 'outside'.
He hastily locked the door behind him and turned on the equipment. About a minute later his small view-screen revealed the face of a man who was unknown to him. The stranger looked at him curiously and smiled.
"You are agent Toffner—cipher ZV4?"
ZV4 meant: Zalit—Voga—4th planet.
"Correct!" he confirmed.
"The Chief wishes to speak to you—stand by for 30 seconds."
The Chief...?
There were only two men who were called Chief. Naturally, first of all there was the Administrator of the Solar Empire, Perry Rhodan. And then Mercant, head of Solar Intelligence. What did Mercant want with him...
A hot wave of alarm ran through him. Was it possible that by 'Chief' they actually meant Perry Rhodan himself? He waited in front of the viewscreen... 20 seconds... then 30.
When he saw the face on the screen he knew that his suspicion had been correct. Perry Rhodan gazed at him searchingly. His cool eyes seemed to look through him, penetrating into the last corner of his being.
"Jeremy Toffner?"
"Yes sir," was all that Toffner was able to say.
"I am speaking to you from shipboard and this transmission is scrambled; nevertheless we will make no mention of names and places. The danger would be too great, especially for you. You have been living there for almost three years. Have you noticed anything unusual in recent days?"
Toffner was nonplussed. He answered hesitantly. "No sir... not to my knowledge. The Za... the inhabitants are calm, the government is normal; no unusual events."
