by Perry Rhodan
On board the ship reigned an unreal tension. It was abrasive and nerve crushing. This mighty steel dome below them could only be identified with a construction of the galactic Medical Masters. Pucky, whose extrasensory senses were wide open, announced the presence of countless 'Opera Singers', whose strange bodily impulses he was receiving quite flawlessly.
"They should have waited for the right moment," said Dr. Certch. "If you make somebody aware of special faculties too soon, then in an emergency you can't surprise them."
Close under the slowly flying Titan, a mountain crest began to steam. It had come in contact with the triple-laminated defense screen. Tifflor and Tanner sat again at the fire command board. The reports from the sickbay sounded satisfactory. Since the ship had gotten under way, the restlessness of the patients had subsided. However, Prof. Kaerner had advised that the symptoms of physical deterioration could no longer be overlooked. Rhodan knew that it was high time.
The shores of the great ammoniac ocean were coming near. The distant horizon of the giant planet was not discernible. Long before the point of junction between land and sky, the dark impenetrability of seething poisonous gas clouds began. The night hemisphere of Mooff 6 was being approached. The yellow star of this world was blotted out by storm-shattered cloud banks. Here it was only unusually seldom that a ray of sunshine ever touched the surface.
"Distance from the dome is 150 miles," announced Capt. Brian from the tracking station. "Careful, sir. The energy sensors indicate atomic power plants of high capacity. They could be well equipped with weapons down there and the diameter of that dome isn't so small. All things being equal, I'd say their overall installation and equipment is a match for the Titan."
These were the same thoughts and considerations, which Rhodan had harbored for about a half an hour. If there were a stronghold of the technologically highly advanced Aras on this inhospitable world, then it was also heavily armed.
Beyond the coast at a distance of about 30 miles from the dome, the super-battleship came to a halt. With humming antigravitators, it hung motionless in the air, in spite of an upcoming storm. The mathematical and geological departments were called upon to make studies of this phenomenon. For Rhodan it was inconceivable that the relatively flat steel disc should be buoyant and seaworthy in an ocean of ammonia. The mathematical and geographical departments were called upon to make studies of this phenomenon. The weight of the dome under the dominating gravity of the planet must be so considerable that in spite of its breadth it could hardly be buoyant. Naturally one could be deceived by the amount of buoyancy created by the unquestionably available hollow space inside. But still, Rhodan couldn't accept the idea of a fortress dependent upon a fluid base.
In accordance with Arkonide equipment and furnishings planning, the Titan had at its disposal a complete research laboratory. Here was equipment that enabled one to determine at great distances what a specific land area consisted of. The analytical sensors revealed clearly that the mighty structure was surrounded by solid rock. Accordingly, it had been erected on an island and was surrounded by the corrosive ammoniac tides. Unquestionably the stronghold could not be conquered by land.
Again it was Dr. Certch whose calculations led to significant information. He stormed into the Command Center. "Have you heard that swimming Mooffs have been detected?" he inquired, then dismissed his own question with a gesture of the hand. Naturally the Commander would have been advised via Pucky's super-ESP-tracking ability. "I'd be careful, sir—something doesn't look right. It gets me to thinking of the fact that these monsters suddenly withdrew from the action, right after they almost made a successful hypnotic attack on us. It's improbably that they're of a mind not to take any further advantage of their prodigious powers. If their employment of the half-synthetic creatures in this action completely misfires, we may be in for a catastrophic surprise!"
Rhodan confirmed his statement with a nod. Naturally it was strange that the jellyfish-creatures had become so quiet. On the other hand, they swam in tremendous numbers in the ammoniac ocean. Everson hunched his shoulders with a shudder when he thought of having to dive into this poisonous broth.
Janus van Orgter had also transferred his headquarters to the Command Center. He appeared pale and weak but in his eyes lived a suppressed anger. He belonged to those men on board the Titan who regarded Rhodan's considerateness as very hazardous. At least 80% of the men were in favor of shooting every detectable Mooff as quickly as possible and with every means at their disposal.
"Energy pick-up," droned the tracking station over the speaker. "Echo signal at strength 12, now 14 jumping to 20 high. Very powerful machines and equipment starting up. Caution! Impulse echo damped out. We are being tracked, sensed and analyzed. Super light-velocity technology, obviously with hyper-sensors. Over and out."
These words, spoken through the speaker into the Command Central, were audible in all sections of the ship. Personnel thumbs were never far removed from their protection screen switches. They were watching for another appearance of the 'Opera Singers', although the Medics had claimed that at this 6-mile altitude of the battleship they were beyond their attack range.
Rhodan's eyes sought the indicators of the forcefield generators. All power plants pumped their outputs at full capacity into the defense screens. It was unthinkable that they should be pierced by any possible, known type of energy beam. The magnifying circuits of the optical system brought the target object still closer. Individual sections of the steel dome appeared on the screens.
"They haven't erected any protective energy dome yet," said Rhodan to himself. "Why not? They have the technical knowledge, so maybe we have before us a different kind of people than we expected."
Dr. Certch reacted suddenly. With a new suspicion, he looked at the Commander. "Sir, they are the galactic Medical Masters!"
"What makes you so sure of that?"
"That's who they are," said Pucky, joining in tonelessly. "I sense their thoughts from the dome. I know them well, from Honur. Chief, I don't think I feel so good. Something disastrous is happening. Countless Mooffs are in front of the island. 'Opera Singers', too. If we land there—"
The mouse-beaver interrupted himself. Rhodan looked directly into his large eyes. Instinctively he stroked the little fellow's soft fur at the nape of his neck.
"They are holding off," declared Khrest. "They think they've got us where they want us!" His tall figure today was somewhat bowed. The deepest sorrow revealed itself in his old yet young-seeming face. "They know that we have come here because of them. Undoubtedly they have learned that we are the ones who destroyed the Mooffs that they sent to the planet Zalit and thus hindered an uprising against the Empire. They recognize us alone by the mighty Titan. Besides, they ought to know by now about our patients. The galaxy has ears, Perry! You can't imagine just how big and sharp those ears are! News travels fast from star to star. These fellows know that we can't just simply open fire on them if we ever want to obtain a cure for our sick people."
"If this were an ordinary armored fortress, it wouldn't be in existence by now," retorted Rhodan humorlessly. "So—here we hang in the air; we've found the enemy but we can't attack. A fine situation, don't you think?"
Certch was excited. "Possibly the Mooffs' lack of activity can be attributed to this consideration. I may have an idea. Excuse me!" He rushed toward the bulkhead door of the Central.
At the same moment an agitated shout came from Brian in the tracking center. His words were drowned out by a general shout that went up, as a gigantic soap bubble suddenly seemed to rise out of the ammoniac sea, above the dome structure below. At first it flared blue-white before it regulated itself to a mild shimmering. Then it held constant, as though it had always been there.
"So—an energy screen," said Rhodan, little impressed. "You'd think a miracle had happened. Tifflor put a trial shot into it, from 17. Give us a reading on the field strength."
Weapons turret 17 mounted a medium-caliber thermo-beamer. The
target coordinates had long since been fed in. Seconds after Rhodan's order, a bellowing was heard from the outer curved shell of the Titan. Suddenly glowing atmospheric gas masses were ripped aside. The 15-foot diameter impulse stream was faster than the eye could follow.
The countless rooms of the super-battleship were visited by a muffled thundering. A light flamed ahead on the enemy's energy screen. Titanic discharges leapt into the sky. The bell-shaped defense canopy appeared suddenly to be striated with blinding cracks and fissures of light. In spite of this, the impinging thermo-energies were deflected at an angle, thundering in a cascading fountain, leaping into the clouds whose blood-red reflections cast a baleful glow across the dark sea.
"No effect," said Brian laconically. "That thing can take more. The screen is probably as strong as ours. We'll never get in by the normal route."
Rhodan studied the viewscreens a few moments before commenting. "They want to just sit back and let us starve here in the air… Aha—they're sending us greetings, also!"
The shot was faster than thought, a bulls-eye hit, which Rhodan calmly allowed to rage against his outer screens. Also in this case there was a deflection of the impacting forces. Residual energies were absorbed and fed to the countering defense-screening. The mighty Titan shook briefly.
"They don't seem to have much at that," muttered Perry in a monologue. "And I don't want to throw in our super-caliber stuff. Naturally an armored fortress of that size would have advantages over a spaceship because it doesn't need any propulsion engines. And there's always room for a reserve power plant or two on the ground. But I still think they're not going to stand up against our big bumblebee… Pucky!"
The mouse-beaver collected himself, then hurried over to the pilot seat.
"Little one, do you think you'd dare go into the wasp's nets? Maybe play a little game?"
Pucky's stature grew visibly a half inch or so. His greatest passion was dangerous games. "Lead me to it, Chief! What will it be?"
"You are my only available teleporter. Our weapons master will give you a nice, shiny black ball. After you set the timer switch, down below, you will place it where the main generators are. Then we will see what that will do for our friends and their beautiful defense screen."
Pucky revealed his incisor tooth. It would have made a hilarious impression if there hadn't been such a strange glitter in his large brown eyes.
Minutes later, detailed orders were issued. The robot commandos, ready for action, marched into the awaiting antigrav elevators. Mammoth armored tanks with frightful ray weapons started up. The men of the attack troop forces assembled.
In the Command Central, Rhodan turned to the mutant, Wuriu Sengu, who listened carefully to him. "I'm going to fly over the dome so that you can take a look inside. You will advise Pucky where he must materialize after making his teleport jump. I'd estimate that there's a central reactor chamber down there that's bigger than five Titan power plants. That's where the little guy has to land."
The 'seer' of the Mutant Corps nodded. His special gift was being able to optically penetrate solid objects and walls. Moments later the great fighter ship got under way.
It was then that Rhodan received his second warning but this time the impulses were not as strong as they had been prior to the first landing.
Remain there where you are. Danger! We cannot help you any more… Fly no further… turn around!
The sense of the message came clearly and unmistakably into Rhodan's brain. Pucky grasped it even better.
"Who are you?" returned the furry one quickly. "Answer, friend. Are you with us or—?"
We are of good intent, returned the answer. This is my last warning. You are recalcitrant against your own good! Fly away. You cannot overcome the fortress of the aliens.
"Who are you?"
I call myself Trorth but that is unimportant. Go away! Don't fly any closer. This is my last warning.
Pucky asked more questions but no further telepathic answers came back.
"So we do have friends!" said Rhodan excitedly. "Pucky, what did it look like in the stranger's brain?"
The mouse-beaver waved his little arms helplessly. "No idea, Chief. Must be a real funny Something, that. But I didn't trace any hidden hate in the vibrations."
Rhodan gave it up. Whoever or whatever the unknown informant might be, there was nothing more he could do to change the situation.
The Titan glided along dangerously slow over the energy screen. The defense shields almost touched each other. The enemy took no action.
"The power station is deep down in the rock," reported Sengu. "Apparently a giant cave burned out with raybeams."
Rhodan needed to know no more. 30 minutes later, the mouse-beaver reported himself ready. He was wearing his custom-made attack suit. From its belt hung a metal ball the size of a man's head…
8/ ASSEMBLY FACTORY OF SYNTHETIC LIFE
Pucky took one more look around the hall-like room before he depressed the fuse ignition. Other than himself, no one was there. The mammoth machines functioned automatically.
Shortly thereafter, Pucky materialized on board the Titan. Exactly 20 seconds after the successful flight, the bomb began to make itself felt. A regulation atom bomb could not be employed for fear of destroying the entire dome installation. It would be sufficient if only the forcefield collapsed.
Within the fort's power and machinery installations, a 5th-dimensional gravity vortex field developed whose volume of energy increased in proportion to the amount of reaction-ready hyper-elements it was able to consume. In the impulse converters of the giant power station, a sufficiency of hyper-elements was at hand.
The alarm inside the dome came too late. It would have been too late even if Pucky had been observed during the fuse ignition. A muffled howling roar emerged from the rocky depths of the island. Fluorescing light spirals shot out of ventilating shafts and other openings. One reactor after the other automatically went out of service as the hyper-catalyzers of the impulse converters succumbed to the new excitation. There was no destruction in that sense of the word. As soon as the protected energy field, once generated, ran out of sustenance, it would die down by itself.
A mysterious rustling and whispering remained behind in the oxygen-bearing air of the dome. Also, heavy-duty thermal equipment was shutting down because of failing rotary converters. In the entire galaxy there was no atomic power machine that would not shut off automatically if its current demand dropped to zero. And the dome's defense screen represented 99% of the load.
"It was easy," declared Pucky disappointedly when after a weak flare-up the invulnerable seeming walls of the forcefield collapsed.
Rhodan did not wait a second longer than necessary. The super-battleship moved forward. In hardly a second it closed the distance between the coast and the island fortress. Now everything still depended on knocking out the vast structure's heavy weapons fast enough so that the landing personnel would not be caught in any concentrated fire. The defense screen of an Arkonide battle suit could probably neutralize the fire of a hand-held weapon but never the powerful death beams of heavier guns.
With roaring propulsion engines and a complaining growl of inertial absorbers, the Titan came to a stop directly over the fortress. The gun emplacements of the southern side had long been located by the energy trackers and were programmed into the target computer.
Rhodan nodded wordlessly toward the fire control center. Tifflor and Tanner pressed all 10 fingers on the green keys of the disintegrators.
Only the muffled whine of the hyper-converter was heard. This was not the deafening thunder of the impulse cannons, whose sun-hot ray-bundles of death were not being employed in this action. Soundless, hardly discernible in the misty, turbulent atmosphere, the wave-bundles shot from the synchronized defense screens.
Down below, nothing seemed to happen.
"Look out!" shouted somebody over the intercom. Which was superfluous. Before anyone might have reacted to the warning, the blinding whi
te heat-rays were there. The fortress had opened fire before the emplacements could be destroyed. Blazing atomic fire enveloped the motionlessly poised Titan. It was a strong, highly concentrated fire. It confirmed Rhodan's theory concerning the tremendous firepower of a stationary fort.
A roaring sound pervaded the cabins of the giant ship. The compartments seemed to become swinging bells and for seconds it appeared that the defense screens were going to become unstable and collapse.
Rhodan's thumbs depressed the plainly marked emergency power button. Even the reserve stations buried deep in the body of the great ship were being called into use in order to meet the abruptly skyrocketing energy demands of the defense screens. The defensive armament of the Titan had never before been challenged to this degree.
Rhodan saw his first officer Everson get thrown forward so hard by the ship's wild gyrations that he was jerked by his carefully buckled safety straps.
Then it hit down below. It had only taken a fraction of a second. The last energy discharges crackled off the tri-laminated defense mantle of the Titan, just as precisely 22 emplacements in the fortress dome revealed yawning openings. They appeared in ghostly silence. First, the edges began to crumble, then they flattened, until the openings widened swiftly to clearly marked holes. No heat occurred nor was there any resultant glow. But something did occur that could only happen in this way on an exceptionally high-pressure planet.
In empty space, by now all kinds of articles would have been propelled out of those gaping holes. In this instance, however, there was no decompression explosion but a no-less-violent implosion caused by the high-pressured inflow of the poisonous atmosphere. Then came the brilliant flashes that the physicists on the Titan had expected. The oxygen in the 22 ruptured turrets had made an explosive mixture with the methane gas, which found good ignition on the still glowing elements of the heat-ray guns. Giant tongues of fire shot out of the gaping openings. This time, fragments did come flying out, which indicated that a pressure balance had occurred. It also indicated, however, that the designers had not neglected to install heavy safety bulkheads and security locks. The gun emplacements might be completely destroyed—but not the other installations of the great dome.