by Perry Rhodan
The Arkonide required two minutes to recover from his surprise. With suspicious eyes he regarded the two men standing calmly waiting at the barrier. "Partnership? What does that mean? There is only one ruling race in the Imperium and that's the Arkonides! I've never heard of any Terra."
"I'm not surprised," said Rous indifferently. "You've probably never even heard of the third race, the one we're here to warn the Administrator about.-Now what is it? How much longer must we wait?"
The Arkonide hesitated for a second, then opened up a passageway. "Alright, come along. I believe you may pass through. Yes, here comes my colleague now. Well, Roph, what did Central say?"
"No one knows the position of Terra. Central is of the opinion that we should let the aliens pass through."
Rous took the passes back and gave Noir his. "We will probably have to pass through this barrier frequently during the next few days. I hope it won't always take so long. But, they're just doing their duty."
When Rous later thought back to this scene, he was surprised he and Noir had put up with such irritation. It would have been easy for Noir to place both guards under his will. But Rhodan's order was clear: the New Arkonides must be voluntarily ready to cooperate with you.
Normally it probably would not have been so easy for them to speak to the Administrator of the planet but the barrier guards had already reported the incident to the highest authorities. Before long, Rous and Noir were in the entrance hall of the palace, walking towards two dignified Arkonides wearing the uniform of the palace guard. There seemed to be value placed on tradition here.
"Are you the two Terrans?" asked one of them.
Rous was not unduly surprised that their arrival had so quickly become known. It was almost certain that the New Arkonides had never heard anything of Perry Rhodan but the thought that the Imperium could have an equal partner made them undoubtedly curious. "Yes, we are."
"The Administrator would like to speak with you. Follow me, please."
In spite of his polite form of address, the official could not hide his pride and arrogance. Rous was tempted to trip him as he went by but remembered in time the rules of his mission: no use of force, do not become overbearing or presumptuous, always remain patient.
Everywhere loitered idle servants who stared curiously at Rous and Noir. Noir could not resist the temptation of putting his ability to the test without anyone noticing.
Two or three officials, standing to one side, suddenly turned around and walked gravely away. Noir had given them the order to take a 5-day vacation. He knew that the Arkonides would obey the order without question, no matter what happened. No one would be able to explain the obstinacy of these few men who themselves did not know why they were doing it.
Rous smiled slightly as he noticed the incident but the hoped Noir would not be tempted to make further experiments.
The two Arkonides halted at the end of a wide corridor. "The Administrator awaits you behind this door. May I request that you lay your weapons-in case you brought any-here...?"
They had no weapons.
The door raised, giving free access into the next room.
Rous had expected some degree of luxury but in looking around he was pleasantly disappointed. The room was not very large and looked more like an electronics laboratory than an audience chamber. The walls were covered with videoscreens and their controls, and cables hung from the ceiling to disappear behind the various walls. Small intercom devices stood on two tables. Then it was from here that an entire planet was controlled; and Rous suspected that the Administrator could contact any point on Tats-Tor with the equipment to be found in the room.
The Arkonide himself sat behind a third table. Two empty seats stood in front of it. "Welcome to Tats-Tor," he said in perfect Imperium-Arkonese. "I learned of your arrival from the barrier guards, although I must admit I have never heard of the planet Terra."
"You are the Administrator of a peaceful colonial world," answered Rous, standing next to Noir by the chairs. The Arkonide made no preparations to stand up. "If you were a Springer or belonged to the Imperium battlefleet, you would have certainly heard of us."
"What does that mean?" The Administrator remembered his etiquette and pointed to the seats in front of the table. "Please, sit down."
Rous and Noir glanced at each other as they sat.
"That means," Rous went on, "that we've had a dispute of considerable proportions with Arkon but that has since been settled. We are today equal partners with the Regent. The Administrator of the Solar Imperium, whose center is the planet Terra, has made an alliance with your highest ruling authority in order to resist a powerful enemy. That's why we came here."
"Why to Tats-Tor?" demanded the Administrator. "You said yourself that we're a peaceful world which has nothing to do with the wars of the Imperium."
"That's true but even the most peaceful can't live in peace if their neighbors have other intentions. And the Unseen very definitely have other intentions."
"The Unseen? I don't know what you're talking about."
Rous took a deep breath and decided to say it in as few words as possible. He began to suspect that-in spite of the Administrator's politeness-it would be easier to come to terms with an enemy than with this smooth and slippery Arkonide. "An alien dimension is cutting through ours. Different relations of time are in effect in the other dimension. At those points where the two dimensions meet, all organic material and thus everything that's alive disappears from our field of vision. As of today, we have been unable to bring back any of those who have disappeared."
"Very interesting," interrupted the Arkonide without any trace of emotion. "Unfortunately, I've never heard of this phenomenon before."
"That isn't surprising," Rous explained to him. "The Regent decided it would be best not to panic the Imperium. Also, it was never before possible to predict an imminent attack. The aliens simply moved in and there was no defense."
"And why, then, do you come to Tats-Tor and babble the Regent's secrets?"
Rous answered simply. "Because according to our calculations, Tats-Tor is the next planet in line to be rolled over by the time boundary."
The Administrator looked at Rous in disbelief but showed neither excitement nor especial interest. "So? You've come to warn us, then?"
"You could say that."
"Why? What point is there in it for you? Why give us a warning at all if there aren't any means of defense?"
Rous was disappointed by the Administrator's questions. "It's our intention to develop a weapon against the time-aliens but we lack the experience. That's why we came to Tats-Tor. We wanted to carry out our experiments here and for that we need your permission. You surely would have no objections if we tried to-"
"Not in Akonar under any circumstances," the Administrator broke in. "I cannot allow human life to be endangered. Make your experiments wherever you like but not in the capital!"
"We aren't asking to carry out our experiments here. Our main task is look for the signs that indicate the approach of the enemy front. I don't know if we'll be able to save your world from disaster but we at least want to try to learn something from it. Do you understand me now?"
"I understand only that you want to gain some advantage for yourself from this alleged danger to us," said the Arkonide, leaning back. "There is probably some other motive behind your actions than you've revealed. I'm sorry, my dear Terrans, or whatever you may call yourselves, but I would like nothing better than to see you leave our world as quickly as possible. Before sundown today, let's say. Agreed?"
Rous did not move to stand up. A cold glitter suddenly appeared in his eyes-let his opponents beware! He laid both hands on the, table calmly. Calmness was really out of character for him, for the dark-haired and agile Frenchman was well known for his impulsiveness. "You don't believe me, then?" he inquired, his voice almost friendly.
"I don't want you to cause a panic," said the Arkonide, evading the direct question. "Our world has never been
attacked before this and if someone should attack us, we have the protection of the Imperium battlefleet. A call for help would be enough to-"
"Not this time," Rous told the Administrator evenly. "You would be terribly disappointed because the Regent can't fight the Unseen from another time plane. All the worlds they have attacked are now empty and deserted. Even the insects are gone. Those worlds stand completely devoid of life."
The Arkonide had gone pale. His red eyes blazed like live coals from his white face. "You lie, Terrans! Our Regent fears no enemy! I am going to find out what you really intend by your behavior."
Rous stood up without any warning. "You can undoubtedly deny us your support but I don't believe you can forbid us to remain on Tats-Tor. So save yourself the trouble of telling us to leave. In any event, we'll let you know as soon as the signs indicate the invasion has begun."
The Administrator returned Rous' look coolly and arrogantly. "I don't need your warning. If an attack should actually take place, I'll know myself what to do. Of course I can't forbid you to remain on the spaceport field but I must ask you not to stir up the population of Akonar with your wild stories. I would be grateful if you would leave me now."
Noir had also stood up. He asked in English: "Should I try to influence him, Marcel? I could 'persuade' him to put a few people at our disposal and-"
"That would be against Rhodan's orders, Andr?," Rous replied. "If these conceited fellows don't want us to help them, we should leave it at that. Let's go." He turned to the Administrator and, in Arkonese, added: "It would be advisable for you to have your radio stations keep their receivers open on the general trade frequencies. Goodbye, Arkonide."
He had consciously neglected to use the Administrator's official title. By the Administrator's start he knew that the Arkonide had well understood the intended insult. Without waiting for an answer, the two men left the room and returned to their ship.
No one tried to stop them.
• • •
The Russoterranian Ivan Ragov was one of those people who believed he could find a peace-loving element in the character of any other person. It stemmed naturally from his own wish to be left alone and to live in peace. Moreover, his professional specialty seemed to contribute its share: whoever concerns himself to a large extent with plants and animals and is a doctor besides must believe in the peaceful coexistence of even the most different forms of life.
Ragov strolled through the crowded streets of Akonar, carrying on a private study of the life there. Rous had had no objections to his wish to look around the capital city. Thanks to the tiny, all but invisible transmitters built into finger rings by the Swoons, Ragov was constantly in touch with the Gazelle. The communications officer on duty-Fred Harras at the moment-hold him under constant surveillance.
Ragov cautiously stepped out of the way of a shapeless being, encased in a spacesuit, walking past him. He overtook the strange creature and avoided letting his curiosity show too obviously. Still, he could not resist risking a glance to the side. Although he had already visited many planets, he had never seen anything like this. The alien's 'atmosphere' splashed against the transparent helmet: it 'breathed' an oily liquid of unknown composition. Now Ragov noticed that the creature had gills on the side of its head.
Unfortunately, Ragov had to turn his head away again in order not to arouse any unpleasant attention. Only provincials turned to stare at aliens, marveled at the way they looked and considered themselves the most perfect beings in the Universe.
Ragov stayed on the main business avenue, which led from the spaceport. Here lived the traders and the visitors in large hotels whose signs shone harshly in the sun. Ragov did not understand a single word in the welter of conversations around him and he regretted not being a telepath.
He stopped in front of one of the numerous shops. Naturally, as one could have suspected, the salesman was no Arkonide. A Springer with a pointed beard loudly ballyhooed the worth of his merchandise, souvenirs from all parts of the galaxy.
Ragov stepped closer and looked at the selection. Fortunately the goods were labeled in Arkonese and he would not have to arouse the attention of the Springer, then occupied with calling out irresistible bargains to passersby, with unnecessary questions.
There were stuffed mugglis from the third planet of the star Thorakl, 2000 light-years away. They looked like lizards and had three tails: if the label did not lie, the middle tail functioned as a radio antenna. Even though the animal was dead, its body could still be used as a transmitter.
Nearby was a colorfully glistening stone, which came from the planet Temporalis near the center of the galaxy. If the stone was placed under a recently developed projection device, the past would live again for the stone gave off rays which could be made visible. Events of thousands of years before could be projected on an electronic screen. The stone had absorbed optical impressions and stored them like a natural camera and film.
Ragov was debating whether to buy such a stone when his glance fell on a small object in the third row.
He gasped for breath.
Lying there was a commonplace razor of the sort in use more than a century before on Earth. The label read: "Throat-slitter from the planet Terra, position unknown. When they desire a new wife, male Terrans murder the old one with this instrument. In common use all over Terra. Very valuable artifact of an alien culture."
Ragov did not know if he should laugh or cry. The shameless exaggeration in the razor's description made him doubt the authenticity of the information given for the other rarities but what still had to be explained was how the shopkeeper had come by an Earthly razor in the first place. Ragov wondered if he should ask him.
Hardly had he struggled to a decision when two men came up from behind. He recognized them immediately as Arkonides. Their uniforms showed that they were policemen or soldiers.
"Are you one of the Terrans who came in the small flat ship?" asked one of them with the usual arrogance of a petty official fully conscious of his power over mere mortals. "Then follow us, please."
Ragov was not ready to go off with them just like that. He shook loose of the man's hand. "I'm a Terran but that hardly gives you the right to arrest me in the middle of an open street. What do you want from me?"
"The Administrator will tell you that," answered the Arkonide. "Will you come voluntarily or will we have to force you? You will be allowed to return to your ship after the interview."
Ragov thought of his battlesuit. Should he make himself invisible and just leave a stunned pair of Arkonides behind him? Or should he simply fly away? No, that would attract unwelcome attention and not serve the mission at all. Besides, it would be rather interesting to find out what the Administrator wanted from them this time. Three days ago he had come across to Rous and Noir as tight-lipped and restrained.
"I'll come along but only voluntarily!" Ragov finally said and threw a last look at the ominous razor in the Springer's shop. He would look into it later. "Go ahead. I'll follow you."
They did just what he asked. They had probably received strict orders not to use force. Ragov let them go a little distance ahead, then held his hand to his mouth and whispered: "Hey, Harras! Did you hear that? I've got to go see the Administrator. Let Rous know about this, will you?"
"He already knows, Ragov. You're to go along. We're keeping an eye on you, don't worry. The second there's any danger, well come and get you."
"Just don't be too slow!" Ragov said and followed the two Arkonides.
There was no difficulty at the barrier checkpoint and 10 minutes later Ragov stood across from the Administrator.
The Russian, with only Rous' description to go on, had imagined the Administrator to look somewhat different, or at least more arrogant and conceited. However, it looked as though the high official had no time for such nonsense. Different emotions seemed to shine through his red eyes: uncertainty was the most obvious.
"Please sit down, Terran," he said hoarsely and with a forced calm. "I wa
nted to speak to your two friends who came here three days ago but my men found only you. Were you informed of the things that brought you to Tats-Tor?"
"If you mean the imminent attack of the Unseen, yes, I was informed."
"And this attack, as you call it, manifests itself in that living creatures disappear?"
"That's correct."
The Administrator stared into Ragov's eyes. "I'm convinced that there isn't any invasion by unseen or unknown enemies but that it's just a devilish trick cooked up by you Terrans for some purpose still unclear to me. Otherwise it would be impossible to predict so accurately when such an odd phenomenon would take place. Doesn't that sound logical?"
"I don't think so, Administrator." The Russian shook his head and looked with interest at the technical equipment installed in the room. "Why should we go to all this trouble just to frighten you?"
"I'm wondering that myself," admitted the Arkonide, winning back a little of his usual arrogance. "In any event, I can see now that you are ready to carry out your threat."
Ragov found himself unable to understand. He was still thinking of that idiotic razor back in the Springer's shop and it was difficult for him to follow the Administrator's train of thought. The man was speaking sheer nonsense.
"What threat?" Ragov asked coolly.
The Administrator took a deep breath and replied: "Half an hour ago the entire population of an average-sized city 500 kilometers east of here disappeared. No living creatures were left. Even the fish in the rivers were reported to have vanished."
Ragov awoke as from a dream. "Then it's started!" he murmured. He held his hand high and spoke loudly to the ring: "The time front is rolling, Harras! Tell Lt. Rous immediately-and come pick me up! Or should I fly?"
"What's that?" the Administrator asked, pointing to the ring on Ragov's hand.
