The Crystal Prince

by K. H. Scheer

  I could read the bearings from the calculator portion of my tracer. The fusion reactor was south of me, not far removed from the transmitter trap among the trees where Tirako had disappeared. Apparently the trap was set to capture each person who was impudent enough to follow those faint tracks.

  I moved forward, taking cover as I went, until I reached the next strip of woods. Just before entering the forest thicket, however, I paused. A new idea had come to me. I knew very well that I could still use some favourable scoring on my test. If the entire 10,000 plus-points were to be won on the first trial, the candidate would have to be very convincing under every situation.

  I was thinking of the automatic evaluator. That thing could only be outsmarted by a robot type of logic. I was bothered by those two trees where Tirako had disappeared. I didn’t want to have that area at my back as I proceeded, which was a good idea, but I wanted to make a positive impression on the evaluator.

  Placing myself once more in the role of a stranded spaceman, I turned on my recorder. “Macolon, commander of heavy cruiser Argosso, logging the following data for future evaluation: My companion has been captured in a transmitter trap. I have definitely located the depot which I must reach in the interests of the Greater Imperium. But I can’t tell whether or not that trap is a part of the permanent defence setup of the depot itself. It could also be activated by possible enemy equipment set up here to the disadvantage of any approaching Arkonide. There can also be other installations of this kind in the vicinity. As a matter of precaution, I shall destroy the distribution point I have detected. End of notation…”

  I pocketed the recorder and concentrated on my weapon. In the woods not far from the two trees in question, I caught a sudden movement in the bushes. Someone was making a rapid retreat. I couldn’t see anyone. If it happened to be an observer of the testing team he would naturally be wearing a protective suit that also made him invisible.

  With a grin, I depressed the firing button. The beam of energy slammed into one of the two trees just above the cluster of roots. It burst into flame instantly and then the lower third of it exploded. A generator had been installed there.

  I ran into the woods, skirting the burning underbrush, and checked my tracer. The depot must be here close by, I reasoned, in which case I would be able to pick up at least a residual radiation of some kind of energy. It worked. I located the access door quickly and easily. Once more in a tree, of course. It seemed to me they could have figured out a more inventive way of ending this kind of qualification test.I needed a few minutes to locate the fine lines in the rough bark. Behind that outline, I knew, was the camouflaged steel entrance hatch. I stepped back and raised my Luccot but then I lowered it again, as I perceived the crudeness of my intended action. It would have been a gross error to forcefully open the entrance lock. I’d have gotten some minus points for sure. There was a more elegant solution.

  I pulled out the I.D. chit from the magnetic holder on my spacesuit. I knew by now that it would have been prepared with all of my pertinent data. This would be sufficient to convince the coded lock-mechanism of the portal that I was an Arkonide. I pressed the small plate against the area where I presumed the automatic lock to be.

  The hatch swung open, including its covering of tree bark. The lights came on brightly inside. Before me was a spiral stairway of plastic material. Apparently this station didn’t have an elevator or grav-lift. I exulted inwardly but still remained very much on the alert. In place of the Tester here so close to the goal, I might find one last problem in my path.

  I descended to the entrance chamber. Beyond it I knew the communication room must be located. I waited in a state of high tension but nothing moved. Then I realized what the answer must be! They were horribly clever! There were no more dangerous obstacles down here but they were counting on the candidates to react as though there were—and that was the trap! Only a few steps from the final goal, the student could overstep his time limit. Outside the shadows of night were sinking over the land. I mustn’t waste one second on useless caution now.

  I leapt into the com room, turned on the equipment and depressed the call key. The big viewscreen lit up immediately and one of my most trusted teachers at Faehrl appeared.

  That was odd, I thought—what had happened to his hair? He was bald. He was looking at me with an expression of distinct vexation. Then I noticed several heavy blisters on his nose and lips. Was it he who had been near the tree when I blasted it?

  “End of test,” I heard him say. “Within the prescribed time limit. Get into the transmitter room and have yourself projected. You will be transferred to Faehrl. Hertaso Macolon, would you permit me a personal observation?”

  “With pleasure, of course, Your Eminence!”“After you observed a movement near the projector tree, you could easily have waited a few moments with that shot of yours.”

  “Oh, that was you, Excellence? I am amazed and mortified! I had taken you for an enemy Maahk. Unfortunately my assignment was, however, to proceed with all means at my disposal and under all circumstances

  “Thank you for your enlightenment. Now go. Hertaso Tirako Gamno has already arrived at Faehrl. You can relax. That is all.”

  8/ ARK SUMMIA: KNIGHTHOOD OF ARKON!

  “It is not the purpose of Faehrl instructors to be shot at by their students, do you understand?” shouted Admiral Tormanac. We called him Tormanac the Bold. “What were you thinking of?”“Nothing, Excellence, except perhaps the approach of night and the time I had lost, plus my state of exhaustion.”

  Tormanac was chairman of the Inner Circle and Chief of the Faehrl Institute of Largamenia. Before losing both legs in a space battle he had been Commander-in-Chief of the Arkonide Nebula Fleet.

  Now, two planetary weeks following the events within the energy dome, and only two hours prior to what I hoped would be the conferring of the highest honour a young Arkonide could receive—he had summoned me here. Scolding softly but intensively, he walked past me on his synthetic legs. He stopped before the door and turned to me. I looked into a face that was marked by many reversals of fate.

  No one knew exactly why he had been retired from active service. But it was said that he was not in favour with Orbanashol III. People who considered themselves to be especially well informed had even hinted that Orbanashol feared a possible Fleet revolt under Tormanac’s leadership.

  At the rear of the room stood Tormanac’s personal test evaluator and technical adviser. Grumpily, Tormanac dismissed the robot and finally turned to me again. “Listen to me, young man—a few hours ago I spoke to your father, the honourable and meritorious scientist Tanictrop. He was horrified by your comportment! If I had heard of this incident sooner, you would have gone through a further testing. Is that clear?”

  No it was not! He would not have been justified or empowered to do that. I had not asked my unwary teacher to linger in range of my fire. “No, Excellence, I emphatically reject your remark. You have no right. I beg your pardon but that had to be said.”

  Had I caught a slight smirk on his face?

  “Well, our young Hertaso appears to have a mind of his own, is that so?”

  “Quite correct, Your Eminence. I’m a firm believer in the often-misused concept of justice and fair play. I had expected it would be practiced here, at least, in an exemplary Institute of the Imperium.”

  “Don’t get too feisty, young man. That will do! In any case, your father was quite upset.”He went over to an energy-screened safe and extracted an oblong envelope. “I have no right to ask this question—but is it customary in your family to transmit information and greetings in this antiquated form? After all, we do have micro-scribing machines.”

  “It is customary,” I answered defensively but with reserve. “I am obliged, Eminence.”

  He smiled again. What could it mean? For a man of Tormanac’s stature this was unusual behaviour.

  “Read the letter—here, in my presence. Perhaps you may need an explanation of some kind.” I wond
ered if it were possible for an alarm bell to sound in an Arkonide’s subconscious. It happened to me! Instinct also guided my hand to the place on my right hip where I normally carried a service weapon.

  “Today you aren’t wearing a Luccot!” said Tormanac in a strange tone of voice. “It doesn’t go with a dress uniform. Read!”

  I could sense that he was no direct threat to me. I tore open the envelope and read. The message had not come from the honourable scientist Tanictrop, whose “son” I had provisionally had the honour to be. It was from my guardian, Fratulon.

  “Will you please read it!” urged the Admiral.

  Fratulon seemed to have written his message in a great hurry:

  Admiral Tormanac is a trusted and reliable friend. He is a full confidant and is informed about you personally. Your situation is becoming critical. The honouring ceremony and the conferring of titles will be broadcast publicly over television and radio. We are nearing the most dangerous hour of your life-course so far. It’s possible for people to see you on the broadcast who are completely unknown to me but who knew the real Macolon very well—and they might become suspicious. True, your outward appearance is that of Macolon but this broadcast is being distributed over the entire Empire network and we fear that somebody who could have witnessed Macolon’s death may be surprised to see him suddenly appear on his viewscreen. Be on your guard! I’ll try to ward off every threat I can. Confide in Tormanac. Your guardian and patient teacher… Fratulon.

  I was tremendously surprised. I had long suspected that old Sawbones had some high-level connections but I had never imagined those levels might ascend to such as Tormanac.

  “Well?” interrupted the Admiral. “Have you made up your mind?”

  “Are you aware of the contents of this letter?” I inquired cautiously. “You find me at a loss, Excellence. What should be done?”

  He looked at his watch. “Much and yet little. We have to bide our time. Your enemy is everywhere. I am please, Atlan, to officially make your acquaintance.”I dropped my gaze. He sounded so solemn and formal. What was it he was trying to express?

  “Your reaction against my reproach concerning your teacher was admirable. You have not disappointed me. It was exactly what I expected from you. The most difficult and dangerous phase for you will begin when you enter the activation room.”

  “You mean I passed?” I interrupted breathlessly.

  “Of course, right on the first test. You didn’t even have to solve the subsequent problems in your way. But just their evaluation alone would have gone over 10,000 plus-points. By telling you this I’m breaking a traditional rule at Faehrl. Nevertheless, I have good reasons.”

  “Were my test results given any preferential treatment due to any partiality on your part? If such is the case, Your Eminence, I would have to decline the Ark Summia.”

  He took a deep breath. Inwardly he seemed to have been rescued.

  “I have been waiting for this question. It does honour to you, Atlan! You may be certain of my absolute loyalty.”

  “Loyalty?” I repeated in some confusion. “Excellence, one only renders loyalty to personal friends, high-placed personages and…”

  “Please be still!” he cut in almost sharply. “You can probably survive these last few hours without being informed. We have good reasons for that. As for your question—no. You were given no preferential treatment. In fact I wanted to see what you were made of since I was putting my trust in you. Contrary to your suspicions of favouritism, I can tell you now that I am the one who placed the killer serpent in the armoured glider. It was not foreseen by the others. The members of the Inner Circle took me severely to task for that. Now ask yourself if you can give any credence to my assurances.”

  I was pacified. This man was too honourable to have manipulated anything in my favour. Anyway, the robot observers wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

  “I believe you, Excellence.”

  “Thank you. Then my conscience is relieved. You performed outstandingly. Now it depends upon us and yourself to protect you in the final phase of your development. During the activation of your logic sector—you call it the extrabrain—you and we will be helpless. Under no circumstances can the procedure be interrupted. You realize that a second attempt at activation is not possible. This is prohibited by the paraphysical laws involved. A second try would destroy your brain.”

  “ I have been made aware of that, Your Eminence.”

  “Good. Wait a moment.”

  Once more he walked over to the force-field security safe and this time he took out an unusual weapon which seemed to be very thin and flat in its contours. It was equipped with two metallic clamps which were linked together by a rod-shaped mechanism, and the beam projection barrel was very short. From the muzzle extended a conductor-like thread as fine as a hair.“This is a so-called Luccot ‘sling’ which was once used by special commandos in the Strategic Space Defence forces. I’ll grant you it’s an old weapon but it operates perfectly. It’s to be carried under your sleeve on the left forearm. I’m assuming you can shoot with your left hand?”

  “Of course, Excellence. I am ambidextrous.”

  “That’s fortunate. The release mechanism is highly sensitive. If you wore this on your right side, handshakes and other manipulations would increase the danger of involuntary activation.

  “Of the radiation muzzle?”

  “Exactly. This is a fast and deadly weapon. The contact wire will be attached to the ball of your thumb. When you touch the flesh-coloured pulser on the end of the wire, the barrel will project out of your sleeve. From now on you’ll have to avoid close-fitting jackets. Once the barrel is out and pointed at the target the shot occurs without any further action on the part of the operator. This functions by means of a feather-triggered mechanism. It means you have to have a straight bead on your target before the barrel pops out, because then it fires. Do you think you can handle this instrument without any previous experience with it?”

  The prospect made me a bit nervous, to say the least. If I were clumsy with it a severe accident might result. “Couldn’t I wear some other weapon, Your Eminence?”

  “Under no circumstances!” he insisted. “Any other kind would be discovered. Anyway, during your activation you will only be wearing loose clothing, although your arms will be covered. In regard to your friend, Tirako Gamno, how much do you believe you can trust him?”

  “He would do much for me and I for him.”

  “We’ve noted that. It was in your interests that he deliberately triggered the transmitter trap. All right, you must try to bind him to absolute secrecy. You’ll have to invent some logical reason. Do you share the same quarters with him?”

  “Yes. We have come to know and respect each other, rooming together. Our separate sleeping quarters are joined by a common living room and study chamber.”

  “We’ll have to risk it. You can hardly conceal the Luccot sling from him. He is a keen observer. Now you will notice that here to the left of the reaction capsule is the safety mechanism. It’s only to be locked in place when you definitely have no need for the weapon. Otherwise you have to carry it with the safety in open position. Always avoid touching the contact pulser by accident.

  This will happen whenever you crook your index finger or your ring finger, such as when touching the ball of your thumb. In case of danger it would be safest to make sure you’re bending both fingers. Now remove your jacket, please.”

  Within a few minutes he had attached the Luccot sling to me. It fit snugly to my lower forearm just above the wrist. The two clamps held it firmly in position. The ignition or firing lead was brought out to the ball of my thumb where it was fastened down by a spray of living bio-tissue which was of course fleshcoloured and therefore made it invisible.All except for the tiny protrusion of the pulser or firing button. I could barely notice it, myself, on the ball of my thumb.

  “Now with the safety locked in,” said the Admiral, “you should try it a couple of ti
mes. But hurry! Don’t forget to bend your hand out of the way when you trigger it or the pop-out muzzle will strike against it. You have to get used to more or less ‘throwing’ the shot because with the automatic release it doesn’t give you time for aiming.”

  I tested the thing for several minutes. The process fascinated me. After I had put my jacket on again I also practiced letting the barrel “sling” out from under my sleeve. I improved with each try. The end of the muzzle reached about to my fingertips in its extended position.

  I finally said goodbye to this unusual man. He watched me go with an expression of deep concern. I had not counted on such an ally. I wondered about the other friends Fratulon might also have.

  * * * *

  The Hall of Truth was packed full to the last available seat. 342 young men had applied for the Ark Summia. Seven of this number were missing now, having been mortally wounded during the tests.When I looked back at the three main tests I had undergone, this didn’t surprise me. After the adventure of the river journey, my second trial run had been to salvage a small damaged spaceship. After repairing the cleverly sabotaged engines I had landed on Largamenia with the last dregs of my oxygen supply. The third test had placed me inside the energy dome of a hydrogen-ammonia world where I was to rescue a stranded ship’s crew.

  Tirako Gamno had given up early on four tries. He had passed the 5th test which had to do with 3-dimensional tactics. But of course we all knew that this could never gain him the required 10,000 plus-points in view of the big minus score he had against him.

  At some distance in front of us was a platform supported by antigrav fields. On this sat the 39 members of the Inner Circle and Tormanac, who presided. He had eulogized the dead candidates and stressed once more the lofty significance of the Ark Summia. In the Hall of Truth, the great Institute’s largest auditorium, there was an oppressive stillness.