by Perry Rhodan
PERRY IN PERIL
"KILL RHODAN!" A fraction of political fanatics on Earth has secretly organized to murder the Administrator of Terra. A radical group known as the Nature Philosophers is no less determined to see him dead. And when they band together–these mad would-be assassins, 30 to 40 strong and backed by 8,000 misguided supporters–Perry's life is truly imperiled!
Rhodan having outlawed the death penalty in the Solar Empire, a different kind of fate awaits the audacious killers and their cohorts who are dedicated to the death of the Peacelord. You'll hold your breath as you see them in action, the—
Perry Rhodan
Atlan And Arkon #49
—————————————————
Solar Assassins
—————————————————
1/ STRANGER IN THE NIGHT
"THE BIG DAY is not far away!"
Huang's eyes widened in startled reaction. "Can it be possible? You mean you plan to—?"
Mullon nodded gravely. "That's right—I am! The time is ripe to put a stop to this man—this arrogant dictator who thinks he's ruler of the world!"
Huang clapped his hands happily. "It will be a day of jubilant celebration," the Oriental cried enthusiastically, "for every right-thinking person in the Solar Empire!"
Whom could they be discussing? Some new rogue mutant of the ilk of Monterny of the previous century? Some fresh madman on the terrestrial scene, hurling defiance at the law & order of the 21st century political system of the Sol System?
No, insane as it would seem to most, the boast that the 'beast' who menaced the serenity of the solar system would be stopped this threat applied to none other than Perry Rhodan!
The action that led up to this astounding declaration had begun a few minutes earlier. "Fight the tyrants!" a man named Mullon had answered in response to an innocuous "What do you want?" asked by a suspicious man who opened a door a mere crack in response to his knock. "Fight the tyrants!" seemed a somewhat overly melodramatic password to Mullon, nevertheless he spoke it with conviction.
The door opened just wide enough to admit this full-grown man. Mullon pushed his frame into the dim interior of the dwelling. The other man took care that the door slid back into its slot, then pressed a button that illumined the entrance hall.
"Mullon?" After a nodded affirmation, the Oriental continued. "We didn't expect you till tomorrow."
Mullon removed his coat, hung it on an old-fashioned hall stand of the 1909. "I had a flight on a freighter that carried only a few passengers. It didn't fly to schedule so I'm here earlier."
The man who had received him opened a second door and escorted his guest into a room darker than the hallway.
The summer in Tientsin was hot. A person could just barely endure the heat during the three hours post meridian if he made sure not the slightest tendril of air from the blast furnace outside was permitted through the tiniest crack into the interior.
Mullon sat down sweatily. His host, a small, slightly built southern Chinese, busied himself at a cabinet, producing a cooling refreshment.
Mullon's beet-red face brightened even more, though not with heat but at expectation of the soothing draught. "Great, Huang—I was about to die of thirst!"
Huang smiled as he placed two glasses on the small tea table. "We too. But of course with us it is a thirst for information. We live here in the shadow of the great capital city yet are cut off from the world. The five True Democrats we have here in Tientsin are apparently not of sufficient importance to be kept au courant."
Mullon caught his cohort's reproach. "That may have been the case for the last couple of months," he said defensively, "while everything has been in turmoil. But the big day is not far away!" He continued:
"Actually, I'm only the advance agent. About 20 more men will follow me and they will have to be concealed in inconspicuous places in Tientsin. Tomorrow I'll be going on to Terrania. You'll hear from me when to send on the rest of the men. It'll probably be four to six weeks before I can have everything set up to insure the success of our main blow."
Huang hung on every word, growing more enthusiastic by the moment. "What good fortune we have that such a capable man as yourself is leader of the True Democrats! Where would we be..."
His was not idle flattery but Mullon shrugged it off. "Anyone could be doing the same as I, Huang. All it takes is a conviction that the democratic form of government is the only one capable of upholding human dignity and that this man in Terrania has shown himself to be a dictator of the worst kind. He alone holds all the reins in his hands. Nobody has a thing to say about his operations and he presumes to make decisions for five billion people on his own authority.
"Once a person has come to realize this, his thoughts are not far from revolution. There are 10,000 True Democrats on the American west coast. That's not much in comparison to the overall mass of the indolent and impassive ones but they are prepared to sacrifice everything they have so that our great goal may be achieved.
"Perry Rhodan must die!"
• • •
According to plan, Horace O. Mullon flew on to Terrania the next morning.
Terrania stood where 70 years previous the endless, desolate expanse of the Gobi Desert had stretched away from the shores of an almost dried-up lake of gleaming salt. But there was now nothing to be seen of the desert. Scientific irrigation had transformed the sandy waste into a flourishing garden land.
Terrania was the seat of the highest government authority of the Solar Empire as well as the administration of Terra and thus it was the home base of the Administrator—the man that Horace O. Mullon had taken it upon himself to kill: Perry Rhodan.
The viewscreens of the landing rocket presented a broad panorama of the tremendous city. Mullon could not help marveling at its advanced architecture and its spotless beauty.
He had been certain that there would be some kind of customs control at the disembarkation point so he was somewhat surprised to see everybody changing over immediately to a gyro-bus and getting on board. He joined the other passengers and went with them across to the reception building. By some mysterious route, Mullon's baggage had already arrived there. Mullon didn't know what to do with his two suitcases since he still hadn't found a hotel so he followed the arrow of a lighted sign that said Storage. He looked a bit helplessly along the row of counter booths until he suddenly heard a friendly voice calling to him:
"Step right over here, Mr. Mullon, if you wish to store your luggage!"
At this statement, Mullon whirled around. For a person who had a plan up his sleeve to murder the top executive of the Earth, it was a considerable shock at this proximity to the target to be addressed with his correct name by a perfect stranger. A man with a friendly smile had appeared behind one of the counters. Mullon approached him.
"I still don't know what hotel I'm going to get," he explained, "so I'd like to leave my bags here."
The man nodded good-naturedly and pressed a button on some kind of writing machine, then picked up the plastic strip that shot out of a slot.
"Your receipt," he said, handing over the plastic claim strip. "Please, Mr. Mullon—everything else will be taken care of; you don't have to worry about a thing. When you've found a hotel, just drop the strip there in the mail tube. Your luggage will be delivered as soon as possible."
Mullon gaped at the strip of plastic in his hand. "Well, all that is very nice," he muttered, "but how come you know me?"
The man returned an indulgent smile. "The airport's electronic equipment, including all rocketships stationed here, comprise in their entirety a single cybernetic unit," he explained. "Whatever is known to the electronic passenger register of your rocket is known also by myself."
"Naturally. My memory consists of around one billion storage cards, each of which holds 4096 cores, Mr. Mullon. I am no exception. All robots of class C-4 are so constructed."
"All robots—!" gasped Mullon. Somebody behind him was tittering. Mullon was hardly aware of it. It was a considerable shock for a fervent revolutionary from the old-fashioned city of Seattle to have somebody he'd taken for a man reveal himself as a robot. Back home at the airport ticket office there were only two local robots, carefully camouflaged to look like automatic computer cabinets.
The C-4 robot was not offended in the least. "Your reaction doesn't upset him," came a clear, friendly voice from behind him, and he detected a slight laugh. "He goes through this all the time." Mullon turned and saw a girl. "Good Lord!" he sighed. "Are you perhaps a robot too?"
"No," she laughed. "But I get along well with them. I've been living in Terrania for several years."
The appearance of the girl enabled him to recover from the shock over the robot. His cool deliberation returned to him. "Then perhaps you might be able to help me," he suggested, with a mock expression of concern. "I'm just a tourist on my own hook. I don't have any big-time facilities behind me, such as with a giant corporation. Where can I find accommodations here?"
The girl spread her hands and shrugged her shoulders. "Anywhere. It depends on how much you want to spend." Mullon smiled.
"How rich do I look?" The girl looked at him appraisingly.
"It's hard to say. I'd figure that Flattner's is about right for you."
"A hotel?"
"Yes."
Mullon pretended to be a bit shy and self-conscious. The girl looked at him questioningly so he gave the situation a try.
"You know, I wouldn't want to be a burden on you but if you don't happen to be busy—would you show me where it's located?"
The girl nodded. "Incidentally, my name is Mullon."
"Yes, I know. The C-4 spoke it loudly enough. My name is Nicholson. Freddy Nicholson." During his first day in Terrania, Mullon didn't concern himself very much with the mission that had brought him here. Instead, he dedicated his attention to Freddy Nicholson, who apparently was very much in love with her city and was therefore an excellent guide.
They were together until just before midnight. They agreed to meet on the following day and Mullon was pleased at the prospect of seeing the pretty young woman again because he had already grown fond of her.
It took him some time to get in a relaxed enough state to get some sleep.
• • •
When he awoke in the darkness later he found his responses a bit sluggish. He had to scrabble about in his brain for awhile to figure out where he was.
Then he began to wonder why he had awakened in the middle of the night. At an angle behind him he saw the outline of the big window that gave a view of the hotel grounds.
He was startled by a sudden sound and groped for the nightstand. He had placed his pistol in the drawer. He felt about for it in the dark. There!
But it did him no good. For somewhere a needle-sharp pain hit him and in seconds a numb, stupefying lassitude suffused his entire body. With a soft moan, Mullon sank back onto his pillow and in the next moment lost consciousness.
• • •
When he awoke the second time it was bright daylight.
Mullon's memory came back only in fragments at first. When he finally saw the blue knob on the drawer of the nightstand, things came back into focus for him.
That's right! Somebody was there! He had tried to get the drawer open in order to get his gun. But before he succeeded, somebody had paralyzed him—apparently with some kind of nerve drug. Why?
He sprang out of bed and stumbled against the dresser. He had to hold on tight to keep from falling on his knees. The after effects of the dosage were still with him.
The nightstand had been closed again. Mullon remembered that he had not had a chance to close it. Therefore, it had been closed by his unknown assailant.
What had he been after?
Mullon went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, allowing its cold needle spray to pummel his head. After that he was able to think more clearly.
What had the stranger wanted?
Which was of course a ridiculous question! People in Terrania knew what he was up to and they had attempted to find sufficient evidence to justify a warrant for his arrest. They had forced entry into his room and looked through his belongings.
Mullon checked his luggage and opened the suitcases that he had not taken pains to unpack on the previous day. He discovered that their contents were in obvious disarray.
They had rummaged through everything.
For a long moment Mullon was seized and held by terror. They knew why he had come to Terrania! Rhodan's secret police had been informed! There was nothing to do but get out of here! At any moment they could come and arrest him.
He didn't even take time to wash up. He got dressed hastily but as he was zipping his shirt the thought came to him: why should he bolt out of here, after all? He had been careful not to include anything in his belongings that could reveal his seditious intentions. The very fact that they had ransacked his personal effects was proof enough that they still didn't have anything on him but were merely suspicious.
They couldn't hold anything against him on pure suspicion alone. And even if they did and he tore out of here there'd be the same status quo in any other part of the Solar Empire he might choose to go to because after all Perry Rhodan's jurisdiction wasn't limited to just Terrania.
Conclusion? Stay here!
Mullon stripped down again and treated himself to a leisurely shower. The result was startling. The steamy heat of the water seemed almost to be an antidote to the nerve drug in his system. When he stepped out of the shower he no longer felt any trace of the after effects he had suffered as a result of the assault during the night.
While dressing for the second time, he looked at his watch. He was startled to note that it was almost one o'clock. He had agreed to meet Freddy for lunch at 1.
But of a sudden he failed to generate the same enthusiasm as on the previous day. During the night he had been reminded a little too painfully that he had not come to Terrania merely to fall in love with a strange young lady.
2/ GAME OF CAT & MOUSE
Freddy was shocked when she saw him. "Good grief, you look a sight! What happened to you?"
Mullon laughed nervously. "I didn't sleep well," he said.
They sat down and placed their orders. Completely in contrast to the previous evening, it was difficult to maintain a conversation. Mullon chafed under Freddy's secret surveillance.
"Do you want to know something?" she asked suddenly. "You've had a very sizable dose of Cepheidin."
Mullon's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
"Cepheidin. It's a nerve poison that is extracted from plants that are only obtainable from planets belonging to a Delta-Cepheid variable type sun. It's fairly treacherous stuff. A millionth of a gram of the concentrated extract is enough to paralyze the human nervous system for a matter of days. How did you get hit with it?"
"Who, me?" protested Mullon evasively. "Nobody has 'hit' me with anything of the sort. I don't even know what you're talking about!"
Freddy made a deprecating gesture as though she didn't believe him. "I'm studying galactic biology at the Terranian Academy and the first thing a student learns there is all about the dangerous plants the galaxy has to offer. A few hours after a dose of Cepheidin, the eyeballs take on a bluish coloration. Take a look in my mirror."
She had already taken out her pocket mirror and held it up to him. Mullon grasped it and examined his eyes. They gleamed back at him with a sky-blue brilliance!
Mullon realized that it would serve no useful purpose to lie to her so he finally related what had happened to him during the night. Naturally, Freddy wanted to k
now if he suspected anyone or if he could think of any reason for the assault. But Mullon answered her with a clear tone of conviction. "No. I'm just a hick tourist out of one of the farthest back woods areas in America. I came here to take a look at the biggest city in the world. I haven't anything up my sleeve against anybody and I can't figure out what they could have been looking for in my room last night. Maybe a case of mistaken identity?"
"Perhaps," replied Freddy.
From then on the subject was not discussed again although Mullon had the impression that Freddy continued to ponder the mystery.
• • •
This day was not as cheerful and uninhibited as the previous one. But it was nevertheless gratifying in certain respects. Mullon used the opportunity to see as much as possible of the great city and to learn incidentally how the one big dream of tourists here could be attained: to catch a personal glimpse of Perry Rhodan himself.
"Whenever he has time," Freddy told him, "Rhodan comes to the main seminars at the Academy. As far as I know, participation in the discussions is open to anybody. I'm sure you'd be able to see him there."
"When are they holding the next one?"
"I'd say in about a week."
"Will Rhodan be there?"
"If he's in Terrania you can count on it."
Mullon was interested in knowing what kinds of subjects were taken up at such open discussions and he was surprised to learn that the topics were always of general interest.
"For the most part," explained Freddy, "the discussions concern the position of the Earth in the galactic framework and its various forms of government. For me these public conferences are among the most interesting features that Terrania has to offer."
By and large, Mullon was considerably surprised. This did not conform to the picture he had formed of the tyrant—that he would make such unrestricted public appearances.
In the course of their tour of the city they finally arrived at the periphery of the gleaming dome that covered the most important administration buildings along with a small spaceport. Freddy parked the car she had rented for Mullon in the circular avenue that surrounded the great dome. While still in the car, Mullon took a moment to observe the gigantic glistening bubble that towered almost vertically into the bright blue sky before him, its vault-like curvature at first hardly noticeable.
