by Perry Rhodan
Shaking his head, he brought the carrots back to the freezer.
• • •
Commander Wilmar Lund started when Pucky materialized two meters beside him in the Command Room. He raised his index finger admonishingly. "I don't like it when my crew is bothered," he said in a mildly reproachful tone. "You gave Cadet Brugg quite a scare. Did he get your carrots?"
But to his amazement the mouse-beaver took no notice of his remark. "I picked up a call for help, Commander! Some human's life is in acute danger!"
Lund stared at Pucky in bewilderment for a moment, then he began to roar with laughter. "But—that is impossible! Who could be in danger on the Arctic ? The First Officer has received the 'all is well' report. I wouldn't know..."
"It is not on the Arctic, Commander!" Pucky interrupted. "The call for help is coming from another ship."
Lund shook his head and regarded the panorama screen. "In a radius of 0.2 light-years there is neither another ship nor a plant. So you must be..."
"...mistaken?" Pucky finished the sentence for him. "Out of the question! The cry for help was strong, concentrated and in greatest distress. The man was close to a violent end. Quite aside from the fact that I must save him or at least would like to get to know his murderers, it would interest me to find out on which ship the incident is taking place. It must have been a ship because the man was thinking about atomic converters and robots."
"Besides there are no inhabited planets in this sector of the Milky Way," Commander Lund agreed. "A ship it is! Hmm, you are right, Pucky! That would be interesting. Perhaps they are Arkonides."
Pucky slowly turned until he was exactly facing the direction of flight. "I can determine the direction but not the distance. I lack exact experiences, I don't know how far I can receive telepathic impulses. Is there any point in making small jumps with the Arctic straight ahead? Maybe we will find the other ship."
"What do we have tracking devices for? Coupled with the hyper-transmitter they work over light-years with no time loss." Lund smiled. "I will see to it that the bow sector is painstakingly examined. Satisfied, Pucky?"
The mouse-beaver shook his head. "I will only be satisfied when we find the other ship."
Lund had meanwhile instructed the Communications Central. He turned back to Pucky.
"If you are not mistaken, that will soon happen. Are you, quite certain that no one here on the Arctic has taken the liberty of playing a practical joke?"
"I could tell the direction, Commander." Pucky pointed to the middle of the panorama screen. "The Command Room of the Arctic is on the outer wall. Can you tell me who might still be in front of us?"
Lund realized that there could be no more doubt about Pucky's assertion. Before he could answer, the intercom buzzed. It was Communications Central.
"Unknown object 1.57 light-years ahead. Moving away from us diagonally, direction sector BC-JS-78. Size and shape: diameter about 1,500 meters, spherical. Material: known and unknown metal alloys and plastic. We suppose that it..."
"I already know!" squeaked Pucky. "A battleship of the Arkonides! I thought so!" He reflected a moment. "Someone needs help! I'll look into it."
Commander Lund was much more interested in the fact that a battleship of the Arkonide Empire was roving about in this sector. What was it doing here? Was it on some official mission?
"We shall jump as close as possible," he told Pucky. He threw his First Officer a quick glance. "Calculate the jump coordinates in conjunction with the data from Com Central."
Ten minutes later the Arctic made a short transition and materialized seconds later a good 1½ light-years away from its previous locality.
The other ship could now be clearly and distinctly recognized on the screen. It was flying fairly slowly and thus was easy to follow.
It was indeed one of the enormous spherical battleships which, with its millennia old and still modern weaponry, was capable of destroying entire sun systems. The Arkonide Empire, ruled by a gigantic robot computer, sent them out time and again to discover the Earth. Thus far they had not succeeded.
Was this giant also underway to find the Earth?
Commander Lund had ordered the protective energy screen laid around the Arctic and was in readiness for a hyperjump, should the alien ship attack. So far there were no signs of that.
To the contrary!
The spherical ship was continuing imperturbably in its path, as if it hadn't noticed the Arctic at all. At a distance of barely 200 kilometers the Terranian warship was gliding behind the giant and waiting for a reaction.
It did not come.
Squinting his eyes, the Commander asked: "What trick are they trying to pull? Can't you find out anything, Pucky?"
The mouse-beaver had already been occupied for quite awhile with checking the thoughts of the other ship's crew. However, that was not as easy as one might assume. Thousands of impulses of the most diverse nature were received by his small but capable brain and had to be sorted. How was Pucky to know what was important and what was not?
"There is a general atmosphere of alarm," he mumbled. "But it has nothing to do with us! If only I knew..."
He submerged once more in reflective concentration. "I will jump over there," he mumbled decisively. "Retain our present flight position, Commander, so I can return at any time. And should anything happen to me..." he suddenly grinned in amusement, "...then you make a pretty junk pile out of that gigantic football."
"I would have to call for reinforcements first," Lund replied somewhat gloomily. "We'll wait for you, Pucky. Don't stay too long."
Pucky nodded and began to concentrate. Then he vanished, as if dissolving into thin air.
• • •
Before Pucky dematerialized he concentrated on the place from which the telepathic cry for help had originated. It was only this pinpointing that made an exact teleport jump possible. His body dematerialized and covered the 200 kilometers through the 5th Dimension to the other ship, materializing again at its destination.
It all took a fraction of a second.
Commander Lund disappeared before his eyes and when the dark fog receded he was standing in an unfamiliar room.
The six figures were robots, he saw that immediately. On the one hand, that was good, because if he had to use force, then he would rather be confronted with robots than by men. On the other hand, he could not telepathically read the thoughts of robots, so that what they thought and planned remained their secret. But robots do not lie. They answer all questions—when they do answer—truthfully.
Pucky was unarmed. He replied on his abilities.
One of the robots was about to close an oval lid that was built into the wall. He could not pick up any thought impulses that referred to this lid or to the six robots. The man who had called for help must thus be unconscious by now or dead.
"What have you done with him?" he asked in the galactic universal language of the Arkonides, which was understood by all of their colonial peoples. And these robots were doubtlessly of Arkonide construction.
Without a sound the machine men went to their posts. Three blocked the only door, two others took up positions against the wall. The sixth, the one that had closed the lid, turned to Pucky. In a metallic voice he said: "The Special Squad has just eliminated T39. Who are you?"
"The Emperor of the Andromeda Nebula," Pucky replied and scrutinized the robots. His eyes did not miss a movement, since they now had to replace his telepathic perception faculty. "What did the man commit to be put to death?"
"He reached the required age. The Commander ordered his elimination."
Pucky had to accept that he would have to judge the situation on this ship by new standards. The sociological structure seemed to harbor a few surprises. But before he could ask any more questions the robot said:
"It is prohibited to enter this room." He walked over to the lid in the wall, opened it and continued: "Stick your head into the opening."
Actually Pucky could have been offended
by the fact that the robots were not even amazed by his appearance. They simply registered that he had entered a forbidden room and sentenced him to death. Who he was did not seem to interest them beyond that.
But Pucky knew that robots were not curious but that they acted and thought just as had been provided for by their construction. This did not exclude the possibility of independent thought as long as it remained within the framework of their prescribed duties.
"The Commander has sent me," he said as emphatically as his high, squeaky voice would allow. "He has revoked the death sentence for T39."
He said this on impulse, not dreaming what he was unleashing. It had never before occurred that the Commander revoked an elimination order, simply because that would have been impossible. It would have signified revolution.
But revolution...
The robot leader said: "T39 has already been eliminated. The Commander is acting against the law. We shall examine the case. Now stick your head into the opening.
Pucky lost patience.
"You numbbell! If anyone is going to be looking into that funny hole, then it will be you. Go on, take a look. See what's down there."
He put his psychokinetic gifts to work. Invisible currents of the mind grabbed the robot and raised it. It floated horizontally for the last stretch, then glided into the black opening. The sudden scraping sound soon lessened, then it ceased.
"Would you like to have a turn at sliding?" the mouse-beaver inquired in a friendly voice of the five remaining robots. "It doesn't cost anything."
Instantly they raised their weapon arms.
Pucky realized that it was high time to change his location. Blindly he teleported himself, just before five pale energy fingers crossed at the exact spot where he had been a fraction of a second before.
He materialized in a brightly-lit room somewhere in the ship. Several men were standing around in groups, involved in animated discussions. Instrument panels and screens on the wall showed that it was some technical central. In the middle of the room there was a robot of Arkonide design lying motionlessly, apparently lifeless and partially dismantled.
Pucky was not noticed right away. He kept very quiet and attempted to obtain the necessary information from the thoughts of the men assembled. What he did ascertain was quite remarkable but it did not suffice to relay a total picture. At any rate, it seemed as if a certain Machinist 4 wanted to convince the men that a revolution or mutiny was necessary. The strange thing was, however, that he repeatedly insisted that the Commander of the ship was on their side.
What could that mean? If there was mutiny on a ship, that could only entail an uprising by the crew against the commander. And this time the Commander was rebelling with the crew?
Against whom?
Pucky could be very logical. He recalled the encounter with the six robots and their words. Here lay the deactivated robot, by all appearances dismantled by the men. Only now did Pucky notice that the weapons were missing. The picture was becoming more complete. If there was any mutiny here, it was aimed at the robots.
And then he heard M4 saying: "...above all it is most important that the guards do not find out what is going on. And they must not know that the Commander is on our side. We can only oppose them openly when we have gathered enough weapons."
Pucky realized that he had stabbed the people in the back who were rebelling against the robots. He had committed an error that he would have to rectify.
He stepped forward and said: "Good day, friends, I have come to help you."
The men were alarmed by the sight and sound of him. Their talking ended abruptly and all eyes were trained on the mouse-beaver. No one attempted to take the initiative.
Pucky realized that they were afraid of him because they suspected that he was a messenger sent by the 'Master'. He grinned soothingly and shook his head. "No, I come from another ship. I will help you. The robots already know what you are planning. They will take action. Now shut your mouths—no, better still, you can just leave them open and tell me what has happened. You are a ship of the Empire, I assume?"
The responding impulses conveyed to him instantly that none of the men had ever heard the concept 'Empire' before.
"Aren't you Arkonides?"
They did not know that there was such a thing as Arkonides.
The thing was getting crazier and crazier. They were Arkonides, that could be seen at first glance. The white hair, the reddish albino eyes, the delicate limbs—everything indicated that he was dealing with pureblood descendants of that humanoid race.
Pucky realized that he would have to proceed individually to make headway. He turned to the man who had come to his attention before. "OK then, M4! Pull yourself together and tell me about it! You needn't be afraid of me."
The machinist took heart. He stepped forward, looking somewhat embarrassed as he shoved a small, silver rod with a lens at the front end into his pocket and said in Arkonese: "The sight of you arouses my astonishment but not fear. I believe we can trust you, wherever you may have come from. Let us tell you what has happened..."
Silently and with growing amazement Pucky listened to him, and though he did not learn everything at once, he did begin to sense that he had accidentally stumbled upon one of the greatest secrets of the Universe.
4/ THE GREAT MYSTERY SOLVED?
O2 and M7 were lingering in the Commander's room to exchange reports with him and their new friends. Two days had meanwhile elapsed. In that time they had been in the adjoining room twice but the picture of the Master had not changed in attitude or manner of expression. He continued to threaten them with the most terrible punishment but undertook nothing.
At least they had not noticed anything.
O2 was describing how the heads of the various sections were informed about the new situation and instructed in their tasks. He had not yet met anyone who was not enthused and ready to break with the old and gruesome tradition. If all section heads had passed on the message, the entire population was informed by now.
M7 had a positive report to make as well. Thanks to the advance work of the Second Officer, he had soon found helpers with whom he ambushed the individually posted guards and deactivated them. That had not always gone smoothly; more than once they had to employ the weapons they had taken in order to destroy a robot. This had to happen quickly to prevent their issuing warnings. It was known that the robots were in constant contact with one another by means of built-in transmitters. Hence the scheme could not be kept secret much longer, as the deactivated robots had ceased to turn in position reports.
The two men had barely finished their reports when the intercom buzzed. It had been doing so constantly for two days. O1 was demanding to speak to the Commander.
PS5 nodded. "I think we shall have to acquaint him with the truth. If he is sensible, he can become our ally. If not, he must die."
"I'll instruct the Death Squad."
But that was premature. "First let us see how he reacts to our suggestions, Commander," PS5 suggested. "Let him come in."
Ten minutes later O1 entered the Command Room. He stopped in front of the automatically closing door and regarded the assembled in astonishment. Then he said in a brittle voice: "What's the meaning of this? I wanted to speak to the Commander alone."
PS5 undertook the job of enlightening the First Officer.
"Sit down and listen hard. It is all up to you, you may choose to lead a peaceful and worthwhile life in safety and freedom from now on, or the Death Squad will come to fetch you. Don't interrupt me, and listen! Afterward you can make up your mind."
"I don't understand..."
"You will in a moment," PS5 assured him and began his lecture. Calmly and dispassionately he reported the events that had taken place, not forgetting to weave in impressive speculations designed to influence the young man in their favor.
"The present Commander will of course remain in office. But when everything is over," PS5 finally concluded, "you will remain his successor, if you
join in with us. You will have the prospect of living longer. None of us knows how long he will really live. It could be three or four generations, perhaps even longer. The bodily, disintegration of our cells will end our existence. D3 would be happy to explain his theories on the subject. We are awaiting your decision."
O1 had listened with growing excitement. Several times he nodded approvingly, then misgivings crossed his face. When PS5 had finished, he said: "It is a revolution! It means the end of all traditions and it will be difficult to relearn that quickly. I admit that many of my views concur with yours but I fear that the unknown lords of our ship will not comply without resistance. Are we strong enough to succeed?
"We hope so," PS5 earnestly responded. "We hope so and we believe so."
The Commander wanted to add something when a buzzing signal sounded. At first they assumed the intercom had been activated but the Commander looked at the door.
"The guards never announce their arrival. They simply come when they think it is appropriate. We have 10 seconds until they enter, that is how long the electronic lock takes to open. Quickly, into the next room! O1, you stay here!"
The men acted with the speed of lightning. As the door swung open letting in the robot, only the Commander and his successor were in the Command Room.
But the robot was not alone. It was accompanied by four other guards. Had it been together with five others, the Commander might have guessed who his visitors were. As it was, he considered them completely normal guards. He had no idea whatsoever that the Death Squad, whose ranks Pucky had reduced by one, had come to him.
"Since when is the Commander allowed to change a scheduled elimination?" asked the first robot to have entered. "Violations of the existing order will be punished accordingly. We shall..."
"I gave no such order," the Commander interrupted. "For whom was it supposed to have been?"
"T39. He was brought to elimination today."
"That is completely out of the question. T39 requested postponement, which I could not grant. I have never issued the order to revoke his elimination."
