#19 - The Immortal Unknown

by K. H. Scheer

  The men in the auxiliary ships of the Good Hope class which had already arrived in the meantime, ducked instinctively. The supergiant had set down precisely within the marked field.

  Lt. Everson readjusted the observation screen to normal. He did it with a feeling of resignation. Gradually and carefully he turned the step-switch of the optical magnifier to the right. However, he was unable to bring the Stardust, which had come down over 500 yards away, into full view on his screen. All he could see was a section of the shiny metallic sphere measuring 2500 feet in diameter, its mass blocking out the sight of everything else.

  "Now we’ve been downgraded to grasshoppers again," he said weakly. "What the heck, but only a few moments ago we really thought we had some colossal spaceships here ourselves. A little depressing isn’t it?"

  He glanced. at Capt. McClears who was hastily putting on his best uniform.

  "Am I glad that the old man has come back!" grunted McClears. "Man, give me a hand!"

  "I’m hungry," Everson complained. "During such a state of biological dependence I feel quite incapacitated. The zipper is one eighth of an inch from your finger-tips."

  McClears swore horribly. The heavy-set lieutenant nodded solicitously.

  "You said it," he agreed in a sepulchral tone of voice.

  "You’ll never reach that zipper. We’ll have to get a telekinetic mutant."

  "Come and help me!" the captain roared in disgust. I’ll have to get aboard immediately. The old man will chew me out something awful if I don’t show up within five minutes."

  "That would be more than I could bear," Everson mused loudly. "Okay, step a little closer. I can’t get up right now."

  Grinning from ear to ear Everson relished McClears’ voluble imprecations. Perry Rhodan had used very good judgment when he selected his men to serve on board the greatest spaceship of all times. These daredevils remained unperturbed under any conditions except when they were given nothing to do.

  Everson and McClears represented a typical example of the spirit among the spacefighter force. They were constantly ribbing each other murderously but fused together like one brain when the going got tough. That was all that mattered!

  * * * *

  The eight auxiliary ships were hauled aboard with well-trained ease. The super-battleship had swallowed the mighty spacespheres as smoothly as a dinosaur gulping an unwary mud-fish. The Guppies were strictly auxiliary ships.

  About 15 minutes after their arrival the Thort of Ferrol announced his visit. The wise ruler of the far-flung planet system still did not know that Rhodan was an Earthling. Owing to the tremendous technical power at his command he was presumed to be a sovereign agent of the Great Imperium. Only in this manner had Rhodan been able to secure a psychological advantage for his negotiations.

  The Ferrons excelled the humans in most respects and could not have been induced to conclude a trade treaty with Earth had they known the true situation there.

  The Thort sat down in the imposing command centre of the super-battleship. He was of small but muscular stature, and could not hide the ravages the recent events had wreaked on his body. The pale-blue skin of his tiny face had taken on a pitiful grey tone. He had become old and stooped under his burden of worrisome troubles.

  His deep-set eyes were hardly discernible. Rhodan was plagued by self-reproach when he caught sight of the Thort. The Ferron feared the extinction of his race.

  "What do you propose to do?" he asked, dejectedly. "Will you assist us in our evacuation with your mother-ship?"

  The attending members of the Great Council of Science looked hopefully at the tall lean man in the unadorned uniform. Rhodan knew that his answer was bound to sadden their expectations. He paused and cleared his throat. The officers of Stardust II pretended to be indifferent

  John Marshall, one of the most talented mutants in the special corps, unobtrusively probed the mind of the Ferronian ruler. It was easy for the accomplished telepath to divine the thoughts of the alien intelligence. The Thort was strictly preoccupied with the fate of his race. He did not contemplate any devious actions.

  "Everything is alright," Marshall inaudibly informed Rhodan. Rhodan received the telepathic message from brain to brain as a soft whisper.

  Still trying to control his emotions, Rhodan began by pointing out:

  "Any effort to evacuate the population would he senseless. Even the big vessel is not sufficient to move out the population from the three inhabited planets of your empire. The outer planets, which are up to now little affected by the nova, will also disintegrate when the explosion occurs. Where shall I take your people?"

  "The old Ferron helplessly stretched out his open hands.

  "I put my trust in you. I don’t know where."

  "Sir, your sun will explode like a bomb in about three weeks Ferrol time. Please regard my arguments as factual. There is only one solution, which to normalize the star again. However, this is not in my own power. But I’ll find ways and means to spare you from the worst."

  The Thort sat up. He raised his stooped shoulders. "Ways and means?" he repeated hopefully. "What possibilities do you have in mind?"

  "I know exactly where the source of the trouble can be found. I want to take off without delay. Please refrain from continuing the evacuation which is far beyond the capacity of your space-fleet. Every Ferron you transport to the outer planets will be in a hostile environment bereft of the comforts of your high civilization and technology. You’ll condemn your people to death. Remain here and wait!"

  "He’ll ask you a question," Marshall warned, just before the Thort posed his inquiry.

  "I must beg your indulgence," Rhodan declined firmly.

  "I regret that I’m not at liberty to divulge where the perpetrator of this conflagration will be found. But I can promise you to find him. You can depend on me."

  When the Thort left, Rhodan saluted him smartly and correctly with all due honours.

  As soon as the armoured hatch had closed behind the despairing Ferronian ruler, Reginald Bell took a deep breath.

  "I feel like crying," he muttered, heart-broken. "Well never find the secret of eternal life. Why did we have to get the Ferrons into such a predicament? It really wasn’t necessary.

  "I agree with you for once, barbarian," Thora said acrimoniously.

  Incensed, Bell jumped around. Someone in the background laughed so shrilly that Rhodan’s tense face suddenly relaxed. No normal person would have dared to laugh in this tension-ridden situation.

  "Barbarian is right," a high-pitched voice chirped. "He was out to do me in, that bully. Upon my word of honour, I haven’t played with anything this time. I haven’t even had so little fun as to let a screw fly through the air."

  Rhodan’s lips began to twitch suspiciously. His officers had to apply considerable will power to retain their discipline. They stood like statues. Only Maj. Deringhouse grinned.

  "How do you do, your honour," Rhodan said keeping his composure. "Where did you pick up that expression?"

  Once again Pucky gave out with the grating shrill sound he called, laughter. Then the misshapen mishap of a mouse’s imitation waddled out from behind the second stereo-corrector, designed for the precise matching of photographed navigating stars with prefabricated high-accuracy micro-templates.

  Pucky, as the intelligent furry animal from the planet Vagabond had been named, seemed to have trouble moving his fat rear-end, with its spoon-shaped beaver-tail, across the floor.

  He was about three feet tall and usually walked upright. He was very clever and had the innate gift for telekinetic transportation. As a consequence of his passion for playing, far exceeding human characteristics, he had brought Stardust II to the brink of disaster.

  But in doing so, he had meant no harm. It was just his irresistible urge to play with these new and wonderful gadgets.

  Pucky slowly approached closer with circumspection, around his short forepaws, with their dainty gripping extremities, like a fat-bellied wrestling champ
ion.

  He wrinkled his shiny black, mouse-like nose and bared a front tooth in a rosy moist opening.

  His tiny paw touched his furry forehead. Rhodan could barely control himself. Now the little mouseketeer even saluted him.

  "Lt. Puck of the Mutant Corps reporting ready for action," the little furball whistled, with an air of looking very important. "Permit me, sir, not to say Pucky. It seems inappropriate to my honourable new position."

  Rhodan turned around to conceal the laughter which convulsed him. The other men grimaced with distorted, faces. Only Bell ran through the whole range of his invectives and gruesome curses which Pucky countered by showing him his front tooth again.

  "Assassin!" The bright little creature cussed. "You wanted to murder me. I’ve heard you. It wasn’t me who played with the sun or with the ship. I gave the Chief my word that I wouldn’t play havoc with the levers or swish around without his permission."

  Pucky paused longingly to savour the idea.

  "Wouldn’t it be fun to swish around! I could direct the ship by remote control of the emergency lever."

  "Swishful thinking!" Bell harrumphed. "You’ll be asking for it if you don’t control yourself. By the way, what do you mean, Lt. Puck of the Mutant Corps? Since when have you been promoted to officer?"

  Pucky turned demonstratively around and smacked the floor with his broad tail. This was a gesture of utter contempt.

  "That’s for you, Mr. Bell," he chirped devastatingly. "Phew!"

  "Make ship ready to start!" Rhodan’s commanding voice broke up the hubbub. "What’s there to giggle at? Every intelligent being has its peculiarities which we have to respect as tolerant people. Or aren’t you tolerant?"

  Rhodan looked coldly around at his officers, who suddenly froze. This broke him up and he started to laugh uproariously.

  By the Great Imperium of the Arkonides—they had never seen their Chief act like this before! Pucky was splendidly amused. He looked almost tenderly toward the man who understood him so excellently. It had indeed been a very good idea to leave the planet Vagabond and slip aboard the Stardust in that packing case.

  Furthermore, when Pucky had been given the opportunity to learn the principal language of the humans by hypno-training, it was enough for him to make a little god out of Perry Rhodan.

  The Chief of the New Power ended his laughter as quickly as he had begun it. Momentarily, the serious troubled look returned to his eyes.

  "Now, having enjoyed this little diversion, gentleman, how about returning to your stations?" Rhodan suggested. "Khrest, how far did you get with the evaluation by the positronic computer?"

  They all put Pucky out of their minds at once. The men to whom positronic evaluation was a meaningful concept, fastened their eyes on the Arkonide scientist.

  Khrest gave the impression of erudite confidence. His white shiny hair reflected a thousandfold the bright light of the command centre.

  "I’ve worked on it for four weeks, Terra time. The exact data concerning the movement of Vega have been fed into the computer. By taking into account the cosmic trajectory, velocity and ancillary data, it will be possible to calculate the probable position of the elusive planet within about two hours. The probable position!" Khrest cautioned.

  Garand’s rosy face appeared on one of the numerous screens. The engine control room was ready for the launching.

  Rhodan looked at the chronometer. It was exactly 17:58 ship time.

  "Start at 18:00 o’clock!" Rhodan ordered. Pucky, you stay with me. I expect you not to play any tricks now that you’re an officer of the Mutant Corps. But you have my permission to play with the First Officer."

  Pucky was in stitches as Reginald Bell’s face paled. Rhodan quickly suppressed his grin.

  Exactly at 18:00 hours the impulse-drive engines began to blaze. Flaming heat waves scorched the ground. Ominous droning shook the spaceport.

  The gigantic body rose vertically from the landing field and raced with such enormous acceleration toward empty space that the atmosphere of Ferrol burned white-hot along its track.

  Seconds later Stardust II had disappeared. Only stormy winds were left behind as sign of a feat which had been accomplished by a matchless technology.

  The Ferrons had neither comparable pressure-shock neutralizers nor energized deflection screens to ward off gas molecules. A Ferronian spaceship could not have started or landed in a similar manner. Besides, their quantum-drive engines were unsuitable for such acceleration despite their unsurpassed quality.

  Ferrol had reached the limit of its potentialities. A better performance could not be achieved with their machinery. The inevitable result was a stagnation which had commenced about 1000 terrestrial years ago. Improvement of details served only to increase reliability. Perry Rhodan was singularly impressed by their fine workmanship. Whatever these people built or manufactured was of sublime quality and deserved the highest praise. The planetary empire of the Thort was a valuable and plentiful resource which Rhodan endeavoured to make accessible for use on Earth by concluding a trade treaty.

  The last pressure waves faded out. Minutes later they received the message that the Thort had rescinded his evacuation order.

  The Ferronian pilots shut down their engines. It ended an operation conceived in desperation and wishful thinking. The human visitors had left the eighth world of Vega behind.

  25 ADVENTURES FROM NOW

  it’s a case of

  The Men and the Monster

  3/ RHODAN’S DESTINY

  The mean solar distance of the planet Ferrol was—according to Ferronian data—1.1 billion miles.

  Since Vega was the indispensable fixation point in the three-dimensional coordinate system, Rhodan deemed it necessary—contrary to other opinions—to fly by the star that had turned into an atomic furnace. His reasoning could very well be sound. On the other hand it might be negligible or completely irrelevant. After considering the final evaluation of the positronic computer, he came to the conclusion that no additional tolerances could be permitted which would affect the complicated transition operation. In any case, there were already more than enough unknown factors among the assumptions for the calculations.

  Therefore, he opposed risking a transition 1.1 billion miles from Vega. These 1.1 billion miles could easily become 110 billion miles under a tiny hyper-shift which—together with other minimal mistakes in tolerances—could lead to by-passing the planet without light, resulting in total failure.

  Khrest thought that the mass-sensor of the battleship would be sensitive enough to detect a body in space at a distance as far as half a light-year away, regardless of whether it was lit by a sun or not.

  Rhodan and Khrest thoroughly debated the alternatives. Meanwhile Bell had attained the velocity of light with maximal acceleration. At present the ship raced in free fall toward the blaring sun.

  Magnetic storms of tremendous magnitude raged in the high-tension protection screens. Finely spread particles of matter began to concentrate before the screen. The sphere of Arkonide steel was now surrounded by a glowing aureole:

  Vega seemed to radiate its mass away. It was destructing itself by spewing immeasurable quantities into space.

  All stations aboard the ship were fully manned. Since no battle alert had been ordered, the pilots of the space-fighter squadron and the eight auxiliary ships were doubling as guards for the most important installations. It was an odd and unusual struggle Perry Rhodan dared in his pursuit of utmost accuracy.

  The strong gravitational pull of Vega went unnoticed at the velocity with which the Stardust was moving. However, the cosmic micro-matter became denser and denser. There were also extensive clouds of gas which, despite their low density, became a danger at their tremendously fast pace.

  Rhodan had switched off the various defence screens with the exception of the ionization deflection screen whose greatest energy density was concentrated at the front of the craft as directed by the field-projectors.

  Some of the pow
er reserves of the engines were already used by the chief engineer. Since their hasty start Garand calculated only in rough figures beginning at one million to upwards of 250 million kilowatt-hours per power station.

  The leading astronauts and technicians of the super-battleship maintained silence. Only their eyes seemed to be alive in their tense faces as they scrutinized the readings of their instruments.

  Next to Rhodan was a console receiving the final signals from the giant computer of the Stardust. The data determined by the robot-brain were sent to the command centre by optical and audio transmission.

  Rhodan’s fingertips rested on the still-secured impulse switch for triggering the transition.

  The precisely computed point of departure was 74 million miles from Vega. When Stardust II arrived at that position, the star had to be right on the beam at 91.3 degrees in the green sector.

  As the spaceship passed the trajectory of the first planet, they caught sight on the videoscreen for a few moments of its glowing, almost molten body. This satellite had a mean solar distance of 137 million miles.

  In the constellation of their far away home world it corresponded approximately to the value for the rather cold Mars. Here, at a comparable distance, a whole world was a burning hell due to the size of the central star. Everything in the Vegan sector was on a titanic scale.

  The battleship kept racing on it flight when the heavily armoured spherical hull began to drone after another light-minute, Rhodan coughed slightly.

  "May I have a cup of coffee, Anne? There should be some in the dispenser."

  Anne Sloane, the slim delicate mutant girl with the gift of psychokinesis, did not blink an eyelash.

  She concentrated her parapsychological powers on the dispenser. A cup detached itself from the container and floated under the faucet. Without touching the release, the coffee began to flow into the cup whereupon it drifted, as if carried by ghostly hands, toward Rhodan. He took it matter­of­factly. These uncanny tricks of his highly qualified specialists were regarded as common after many such shared experiences.