by Perry Rhodan
Now I pondered the question whether Rhodan would be fooled by my staged 'accident'.
Never mind! You've got to gain time, my inner voice said with undeniable logic.
I nodded mechanically. Of course gaining time was extremely important. Rhodan would certainly go over the wrecked boat with a fine tooth comb and make a thorough search for my body. It was inescapable that his thoughts would eventually turn to the turbulent waterfall and he would not exclude the probability that I had plunged to my death in the abyss.
As I was a stranger to these parts and engaged in a mad flight while a hurricane was on a rampage, the most likely inference was indeed that an accident had taken my life.
I waited in the protection of the steep slope for the wind to slacken. As soon as its fury had dwindled sufficiently, I pulled out the telescoped steering and energy controls of my outfit. My little backpack was now converted into a flying machine.
The hum of the motor built into the hub of the rotors was drowned out by the high-pitched whine of the unfolding rotor blades. I floated gently upward into the misty air but I stayed below the broad treetops which offered me the necessary cover in case of emergency.
Moments later the greatest waterfall so far discovered on Venus tumbled and seethed below me. A shudder overcame me at the thought of how close I had come to getting smashed at its bottom.
I followed the course of the river flying at 150 kilometers per hour and floating so close above the surface of the water that I had to be careful not to hit the rocks which frequently loomed up unexpectedly.
I headed back to Port Venus, having given up in resignation my attempt to play the role of a missing person. It was not that easy to deceive Perry Rhodan I had found out.
Only a few hours earlier I had toyed with the idea of bringing the big robot brain of Venus under my control. I was familiar with the installations and knew exactly how to gain access to the interior of the mountain cave through the various subterranean passages.
But now that Rhodan had managed to track me down, this plan of mine had come to naught. That grey-eyed barbarian was bound to be prepared for my attempt to penetrate into the positronic base and I had to presume that the valuable Brain was now extremely well guarded.
My best chance was to return to Port Venus, the hub of the most important events on the planet. I had come to the conclusion that it would be easier for me to bide in the teeming crowds of the big city. I would find a refuge somewhere and sooner or later would have the opportunity to hijack a super light-speed spaceship at the cosmic airport or stow away unnoticed on a big spacecraft.
I had not used my light-deflector for a few days in order to conserve its power. Now I activated it again because I was afraid I could be detected.
Rhodan's airplanes were nowhere to be seen or heard. The lord of the Solar system was presumably still occupied with his investigation although Viesspahn was in no position to reveal anything regarding my present whereabouts.
I was buoyed by renewed hope. The situation looked far less discouraging once I had reached Port Venus.
"Where can I go?" I asked myself. "To Marlis?"
No, I had to give a wide berth to the girl. At best I could catch a glimpse of her from a respectable distance.
As I flew along the river and took advantage of whatever cover I could find on the way, I decided to write a letter to Rhodan imploring him to show leniency to the girl. That clever barbarian had probably already realized that she had played only a very minor role in my escape.
Where to in Port Venus? my extra-brain inquired.
I mulled over various possibilities till I remembered the Terra Museum. Of course—why couldn't I hide in there?
Its many rooms were large and difficult to watch. If that mutant with the unusual visual phenomenon showed up again I would have a fair chance of dodging him. At any rate I would be in a much better position to strike back at him unexpectedly. I would probably have to kill him though. If he required a minimum of time for his mental concentration, he would give me an opportunity to defend myself. We Arkonides were not easily intimidated by parapsychological modes of operation. Rhodan's mutants were only humans with weaknesses and faults.
The more I thought about the Terra Museum the better I liked the idea, although I was aware that I was more motivated by my feelings than by reason.
Nobody knew the history of Earth better than I. I was already there when the first Roman traders came to the Germanic tribes to exchange wrought-iron weapons for gold and amber. I urged Leif Erikson to sail west till he finally reached the North American coast.
I was attracted and fascinated by the numerous objects this museum exhibited. Moreover there was a restaurant in the basement of the building where I could obtain my nourishment.
The very idea appealed to my peace of mind. My extra-brain remained mute. Apparently it respected the fact that I had reached a certain state of fatigue.
Perhaps there was already an emotional undertow deep inside me which tried to make me vaguely cognizant of the futility of my plan to escape. Although I had remained physically and mentally young I could not simply set aside the experience of past centuries.
I had accumulated a treasure of pleasant memories as well as disappointments. My knowledge of suffering and reluctantly abandoned joys had tied me much closer to mankind than I could have dreamed.
What was the real reason I tried to escape from these lovable barbarians? Was it intransigence, pride, tradition? Perhaps a certain conceit about my noble descent? For 10 centuries I had been a mentor of mankind. I had guided its leading masters and made things happen which the annals of history described as so astounding as to be almost unbelievable. The historians still tried to answer the question of how Hannibal's elephants were able to cross the Alps. I had shattered the might of Rome because I didn't believe in preserving a decaying empire.
I was lost in my thoughts and almost smashed into an overhanging branch. I had better pull myself together. I still was drawn to my home where my place should be. My venerable people needed my help.
9/ SECRET MENTOR OF MANKIND
At dusk velvet-black layers of clouds had spread out over Port Venus. All activities in the Terra Museum had slowed down and finally come to a complete halt.
The long nights of Venus kept the pioneers on their farms where they had to repulse the monsters awakening in the darkness.
After the last visitors had left and the lights went on over Port Venus I had regretfully activated my deflector screen. It was time to take precautions against the intruders who appeared so unpredictably and could be seen only after they materialized.
Thus I had become invisible again and I succumbed to the temptation of wandering through the large exposition halls. Many of the displayed objects from the Earth's past were not genuine but no effort was spared to make true replicas of the artifacts although it did not always meet with success.
The room where the early Teutonic and Nordic weapons were exhibited was especially disappointing. The two-edged swords, for example, were often much too big and heavy. One would have thought that only giants and huge heroes had populated the Earth, whereas in truth the ancient warriors were generally smaller and slighter than their contemporary descendants.
I encountered historical falsifications virtually everywhere. Yet there were also many beautiful and awe inspiring mementos of the past and I feasted my eyes on the silent witnesses of many a stormy period.
It had been 20 hours since I saw the last person in the museum. The doors had been locked and the main lights doused. But there was still enough light to inspect and touch the array of articles with care.
Port Venus was now asleep. The people had not changed their habits. Since sleep was conditioned on biological factors they had not been able to adjust themselves to the prolonged equinox of nights and days in the alien world. They worked and slept at regular intervals regardless of the light of its absence.
For some time now I was plagued by a nagging anxi
ety. I had arrived at the museum four times 24 hours ago and there had not been the slightest sign of trouble.
I had fed myself from the automatic food dispenser in the cellar and the only thing I purloined was a hand-blaster which I took from the holster of an inebriated settler. Later, I found out to my chagrin that the state furnished such items without cost to each farmer.
This was fraught with danger because the man was bound to report his loss. But it had been very inconvenient for me to carry the unwieldy energy-weapon around constantly. I didn't consider it wise to be unarmed and I could hardly regard my shock-beamer as a weapon in the true sense of the word.
After the big doors were closed I became dismayed by a feeling of loneliness. I was too nervous to stay put and got up from the ornamental bed which was a duplication of the one owned by Louis XIV.
I began to stroll once more through the various departments, pausing here and there to reflect on my memories till I ended up again in the section with the Nordic relics.
A Viking boat was on display in the background. The boat was only 50 feet long, which was in conflict with the equipment shown in the boat. Actually these boats dating back to the ninth century were much bigger.
The figures represented Norwegian Vikings. The costumes and the Armor were shown correctly with one exception: the peaked helmets, adorned with horns, were provided with nose protectors and ear covers but I had only once seen similar helmets and they had come out of Charlemagne's workshop.
I stopped in front of a magnificent Viking figure who held a two-edged sword in his right hand and a buckled shield in his left.
He looked very much like the tough fearless men from the far north. I stepped back to get a better view of the whole figure.
I heard the sharp crack of the spear's impact before I noticed the quivering shaft of the missile which had been hurled with uncanny force.
The tip was buried in the chest of the figure which began to waver and slowly toppled over. The spear broke loose and clattered to the floor.
I stood still, stunned. The muffled beat of a drum droned in my ears. It took awhile before I recognized it as the pounding of my own heart.
When I cautiously turned my head, carefully avoiding moving my feet, I could see nobody. My view was unobstructed but the hall looked as empty as it had been for hours.
Somebody was present though but I didn't know where. Who had beaten me at my own game?
Still trusting my deflector screen, I was reluctant to change my position. If a mutant had slipped in, it could hardly have been the seer who didn't have the faculty of teleportation. But who else could it be and why did he throw a spear?
"If I were you, I wouldn't stay put, Arkonide!" a voice said scornfully.
I pressed both hands to my mouth to stifle a gasp. For a second my feet seemed to be paralyzed and when I wanted to move they failed to obey me.
The voice was unmistakable. "I know what you're thinking, Arkonide," Rhodan's voice spoke up again, reverberating through the huge hall. The ironic undertone made my blood boil. By now I had overcome my initial shock and I was in full control of myself. I didn't dare make a move for fear of betraying my position by a noise. It could have been just by accident that the spear came so close to me before it impaled the figure of the Viking.
I didn't answer. Silence reigned for a moment until I heard Rhodan laughing softly. His supercilious attitude aroused my ire.
"I could've killed you, immortal one!" my invisible antagonist said. "This sounds quite absurd, doesn't it? Immortal and yet so vulnerable! I found out what the purpose of the object is which you're constantly wearing on your chest. I've seen a manuscript written in the 17th century which describes an extremely strange operation performed by the personal physician of Gustav Adolf, King of Sweden. A blond stately man from the north had given him precise instructions for the surgery. The doctor mentions a polished container with a sharp needle at the end which the blond officer had used to prick his skin whereupon he was impervious to all pain. The surgeon was asked to remove an egg-shaped shining red object from the man's stomach. That man was you, Arkonide! Or do you want to deny it?"
I refused to answer. So what if he had discovered my secret? My mind had become so dulled that I could no longer get upset about this fact.
"You might as well talk to me," the voice demanded again. "I've got your picture clearly on the screen of my special rangefinder. As you know, we've obtained your body frequency. Naturally we took the obvious next step and constructed a special instrument. Your cell oscillations are partially 5-dimensional and are therefore not completely absorbed by your deflector screen. Clever, isn't it?"
Too clever! my extra-brain chimed in.
Oh yes, Rhodan had made a mistake. I knew the characteristics of my radiation. It was minute and could be spotted only by the closest calibration of a finely tuned receiver. A few steps sufficed to take me out of his rangefinder's focus. Then let that cold-eyed barbarian try and find me!
So I leaped away suddenly. With a desperate effort I scrambled over the boat and threw myself to the floor behind it. Lying flat under its hull I peered out to, find a target for my weapon.
I strained to pick up Rhodan's breathing. Sooner or later I would get my chance to locate him even if he used a light-deflector like myself. I guessed that he had taken the device out of an Arkonide commando suit. Why didn't I think of it sooner?
"What's the use?" he called out. The sound seemed to come from the vicinity of the door but I could have been mistaken. The soundwaves bounced too much around the room.
"It's really useless," Rhodan emphasized. "This hall has only one door and my men are waiting behind it. I've come in alone to show you that the power you believe you represent is not as awesome as it was a 1000 years ago. You should surrender, Arkonide!"
I almost gave myself away. Rhodan had embarked on a psychological campaign and he was probably trying to get me back into his rangefinder screen. The reason he had come alone was that he lacked other alternatives. I surmised that he had been transported to the door by one of his mutants and I doubted that there was anybody else posted at the door. Rhodan was the sort of man who preferred to tackle the most difficult tasks himself. The longer I hesitated the more I increased his opportunity to really seal off the museum hermetically.
Suddenly he seemed to have lost his friendly attraction for me. He had a knack of constantly turning up as the obstacle in the path of my ambitions.
The silence became oppressive. My instinct told me that he was fascinated by the game he played with me. I knew people like Rhodan. They often disdain to take advantage of the odds in their favor when it flatters their ego. He would have done better to at least wound me with his spear when I was still unaware of his presence.
I was looking around for another place to hide when the second spear was hurled through the air. Even before it crashed into the splintering planks of the boat I had already determined the direction of its flight. He must have stood to the right of the door.
My hand holding the impulse-beamer shot up but I held my fire at the last moment when it struck me that it might set the hall ablaze. Would I have a chance to leave the room in the flames?
Reluctantly and gnashing my teeth in anger I put down the weapon and reached for my more harmless shock-beamer. Rhodan seemed to know why he was throwing spears.
Once again I could hear him laughing softly. He had looked right through me.
"You're sentimental about the past, aren't you? It would be a real shame to make all these pretty things burn up. I've spotted you again on my screen, Arkonide. You're crouching behind the Viking boat. You must realize that I could kill you with an energy shot."
I lost my last restraint, Rhodan's calm and the studied superiority exuding from his words aroused my irrational and obstinate pride which wanted to assert itself above everything else.
These emotions were deeply ingrained in my Arkonide heritage and it had often led me into perilous situations in the pas
t.
I stepped forward, abandoning my cover, because I was eager to demonstrate that I rejected his mercy.
"How heroic!" my adversary called out. "Listen, don't do anything foolish! My men are really outside. Wuriu Sengu will see you at once even if you manage to get as far as the door."
I knew that he tried to bluff me. Nobody was out there!
Stubborn pride and hurt vanity caused me to react in a way that looked like sheer folly at the moment but I considered it my last chance nevertheless.
I would never be able to hit him with a shot because he was quick to change his position after throwing a spear. I had to coax him out from his cover before anybody really came to his assistance. Of course I risked my life by acting in this manner but I gambled that he would have scruples about shooting down a defenseless person. Taking up his challenge, I declared a psychological war in my mind.
My two weapons clanged on the floor as I threw them down. He laughed!
Then I taunted him in the same ironic tone he had used himself. "Go ahead and shoot, barbarian! You've no trouble seeing me, right?" I regret the mistake I made a few days ago when I neglected to shoot you. I had my finger on the trigger and I held you in my target sight when you had that bright idea of annihilating Viesspahn's red helicopter. Or did you think I didn't know what you were up to? I stood right next to you when you gave the order to search the wreck for my body."
This time it was my turn to laugh. My explanation seemed to have made him speechless. Now I found the game exciting and I went one step further by switching off my deflector screen, making myself visible again.
As I bent down to snatch the broad sword from the plastic hand of the Viking figure, I hoped that Rhodan didn't have a shock-beamer handy. I had never seen him carry such a weapon and I was confident that he would refrain from using his deadly energy-blaster.
By cold-bloodedly calculating his weaknesses I carefully tried to increase the qualms of his conscience. If he was reckless enough to accept my dare...!