Quest Through Space And Time

by Perry Rhodan

  "That was easy for her, as long as she could see the scene from the castle watch tower. But she cannot operate inside the spaceships—she can't see through the metal hull. We must be doubly alert, I admit. All right then, Marten, give up your ghost!"

  Marten stretched out on a couch and shortly fell into a trance. Marshall rested next to him, constantly probing his friend's mind as he perceived all that Kerlon was saying and hearing. The teleoptician had taken over Kerlon's senses and now shared all his impressions.

  "Khrest and Lesur are sitting at a table together with Kerlon and his officer," the telepath reported in a monotonous voice. "Kerlon is telling something about a pyramid. Yes, he's talking about the pyramid he discovered somewhere on Ferrol. In the mountains. And inside the pyramid there was a matter transmitter. He says he expressed his amazement when he saw it there. And he found something else there—a metal cylinder. He wants to show it to Khrest."

  Rhodan glanced at his friend Bell. "I believe you were right. That's it!" Bell grinned and contentedly nodded his head in silent triumph.

  John Marshall continued: "Kerlon says he has so far tried in vain to open that cylinder. Khrest wants to hold the tube in his hand. Kerlon refuses to let him do so. He insists the tube belongs to him. Besides, it might be dangerous for Khrest to touch this mysterious object. One can never know what dangers these unknown worlds might harbor. They've just seen proof of such an inexplicable phenomenon. Khrest pretends now not to be interested in the tube. That's a clever ruse, for now Kerlon feels cheated. He wanted to impress Khrest and brag about this sensational find. He says this cylinder is somehow connected with the race of the immortals that's living somewhere in this sector of the universe. Khrest pretends that this is most improbable. He's carrying his role off splendidly!"

  Marshall fell silent. Marten lay motionless. The room became completely quiet. The silence was broken by Anne Sloane, who returned to the room from the watch tower.

  "I've let the swords fall from high up onto the bare rocks down below. They're pretty useless row, I guess."

  Rhodan raised a finger to his lips, motioning Anne to sit down quietly. She took a seat next to Ras Tschubai, who was impatiently waiting his turn. Marshall resumed his report of what Ralf Marten was seeing through Kerlon's eyes.

  "An officer enters the cabin where the four men are sitting. The crew had observed some natives who are creeping toward the ships. It looks as if an attack is imminent. According to the officer's description, the group seems to be barbarians. Kerlon is bound by his Arkonide code. He's not permitted to engage in a fight with them. Khrest insists on leaving the ship at once. Lesur seems desperate. He's afraid to leave this refuge; he feels safe inside the spaceship. Khrest gets up, hesitates. The metal capsule! How can he bring it into his possession? Kerlon appears to notice his sudden interest. He smiles and pushes the roll into his belt, believing it to be safe there. Then he offers to accompany his guests to the entrance hatch."

  Rhodan quickly glanced at Anne. "Are the spaceships clearly visible from the watch tower?"

  Anne nodded affirmatively. "Excellent view. I can make out Markon without any difficulty. He's standing below the entrance hatch of the middle ship."

  "Splendid! Ras, you'll come with us. Anne, you too. Marshall, stay here and listen to what else Marten will have to report. Let's hurry! Come along, Reg!"

  They rushed past a few astonished Ferrons and ran up the many stairs that led to the platform and onto the watch tower. From high up there the view was magnificent, as Anne had said. It stretched beyond the plain, to the woods as far as the distant mountain range. Three giant spaceships were poised on the plain. From the nearby woods a horde of barbarians emerged, storming toward the spaceships almost half a mile away. Gagat raced at the head of nearly one hundred warriors. He no longer bothered to camouflage his movements. That was his last desperate attempt. Quite openly he proceeded to attack the spaceships with spears and swords. The leniency the God had shown so far he interpreted as weakness. Gagat felt optimistic.

  Khrest and Lesur left the ship. Kerlon was standing above them in the open hatch. The silvery cylinder was plainly visible, tucked in his belt. He was waving a farewell greeting, evidently not caring about Khrest's safety. After all, Khrest had insisted on leaving. Perhaps Kerlon was secretly hoping that the witness of his presumed defeat would even vanish for good.

  But that was nonsense. Khrest had assured him he would not claim any discovery rights of this planet. Whatever the reason, Kerlon was curious enough to wait a while longer before the takeoff. He wanted to see how Khrest would extricate himself from this precarious situation. As soon as Khrest and his companion reached Markon, the three began to move in the direction of the castle. Gagat was wise enough to refrain from attacking the small group. He knew from bitter experience that it would be useless. Gagat's goal was the ships, nothing else.

  Khrest knew that his mission had failed. He had seen the cylinder and intuited that this was the mysterious something he was supposed to bring back from the past. Should he have wrested it by force from Kerlon's hands? What would have happened if Kerlon's suspicions had been aroused? Would he ever have flown on to Earth's solar system? Now it was Rhodan's turn to intervene. This was the last resort.

  Kerlon followed the small group with his eyes. He began to realize the oddity of this encounter. Who was that man who knew so much and yet asked so many questions? Why did he voluntarily renounce recognition as the official discoverer of this inhabited solar system? What information did he have about that race, totally unknown and unheard of by everyone else?

  Questions, questions, but no answers.

  Kerlon wondered why the barbarians so obviously ignored Khrest, Lesur and the robot. Unmolested, the three marched toward the castle. Meanwhile the barbarians raced toward the spaceships, brandishing their swords and spears, yelling lustily.

  Kerlon turned abruptly to enter the airlock. He stumbled and for a moment lost his footing. He caught himself in time by grasping the frame of the airlock with his hands. This sudden movement loosened his belt for a second. The smooth metal cylinder slipped out, dropping straight down to the thick grass below the entrance. Kerlon saw how the cylinder fell into a small crevice in the ground and rolled over to the side.

  He hesitated. The cylinder was part of the trail he was pursuing. He had to get it back. On the other hand, the barbarians had come quite close and began to hurl their primitive weapons against him. And he was not permitted to defend himself nor to use force against them. This was the unalterable law! Little did he know that just a few centuries later this law would be over-turned.

  He shouted a command. Seconds later the other two spaceships lifted off, slowly rising into the sky. The flagship still remained on the ground. Its heat cannons began to spew flames.

  The barbarians were horrified. A fiery circle was drawn in front of them. The circle drew closer and closer. A heat wave seemed to sear their lungs; smoke choked their breath. The grass started to burn. The smoke drifted upward. The barbarians hesitated. They stopped the attack which had seemed to be going in their favor.

  Kerlon activated the escalator. He slid down into the middle of the protective ring of fire his guns had placed. He was safe inside. No native would dare penetrate this wall of flames. He must retrieve the metal cylinder.

  He began to search in the grass, trying to locate the small crevice into which the metal cylinder had rolled. It had to be close by. He looked here and there, ignoring the few poorly aimed spears that came flying through the curtain of smoke. At the very moment he spotted the tube lying a couple of feet away, something weird and terrifying occurred.

  A dark shape materialized in the midst of the smoke. The ghost wore a uniform but his face, bare arms and hands were black. Kerlon was frightened out of his wits although he was not the least bit superstitious.

  Before Kerlon could even make a move, the black figure bent over and picked the cylinder off the ground. And while Kerlon watched helplessly, Ra
s Tschubai dissolved again into the air and disappeared. And with him, as Kerlon noted with impotent rage, vanished his precious, indispensable metal cylinder.

  A spear whizzed by close to his head and he realized that he was in immediate danger. Hastily he jumped onto the upward rolling escalator and rose up to the entrance hatch. He was filled with searing fury at Khrest, the black ghost and everything living on this planet. But he had to abide by his nation's laws.

  He issued commands for immediate takeoff and followed the other two spacespheres that were waiting for him in the upper layers of the atmosphere. They touched down again on another region of Ferrol and stayed there for three days. Then they left the planet for good.

  Without ever stopping they cruised about the system, passed dead and uninhabited planets until they reached the empty space beyond the forty-third planet. Then Kerlon ordered a transition manoeuvre. His destination was a solar system more than twenty-seven light-years away, whose third planet showed the beginning signs of a primitive race trying to free itself from the shackles of ignorance and backwardness.

  The forefathers of those who eventually would build the Tower of Babel were about to be born.

  7/ IMMORTALITY - OR - FATALITY?

  Rhodan examined the metal cylinder with a puzzled expression. Bell made his usual unsolicited comments. "Looks like a specimen drum the bug catchers use way back home on Earth. I wonder what's inside."

  "One of the many answers we need for solving the galactic riddle—a small step ahead on the endless trail leading to eternity. But we can't waste any time now on idle speculations. Our time here will be up soon."

  They had taken leave of Lesur and his followers and had turned to the empty vaulted chamber underneath the castle. The metal cube was lying untouched and unchanged in the center of the room.

  Nothing about the cube gave any indication whether they were still in the past or had already returned to present time. Their only clue lay in the size of the hall itself. It had grown larger upon their arrival. Therefore it would most likely contract to its former proportions once they started on their return trip to the future.

  Rhodan glanced at his watch. "Our three days have come to an end. It's just a matter of minutes now, and then..."

  He stopped in mid-sentence and listened. Somewhere in the wide corridors outside the wooden door he heard a man scream, long and loud. Then came the clanging of swords in battle. Seconds later, the noise of heavy fighting right outside the heavy door of the underground chamber.

  Ras Tschubai looked at Rhodan, a question in his dark eyes. Bell quickly glanced at the metal cube and said: "The barbarians! They're attacking the castle again! All our efforts to help Ferrol were in vain."

  "We can't know in advance what fate has in store," Rhodan said slowly. "Fate apparently didn't plan for Lesur and his people to win this fight. It's too late now to come to his rescue once more."

  Before Bell could reply, heavy blows, thudded against the door that separated them from the basement of the castle. Excited voices and shrill commands could be heard. Then sudden silence. A deep voice said a few words which were followed by triumphant shouts. Some men apparently ran out of the room, then returning steps became audible again to the eager listeners inside the secret chamber. Now they seemed to place some objects directly in front of the door. Some men laughed raucously and expectantly.

  Rhodan turned to Ras Tschubai. "Have a look at what they're planning to do. Be careful and return right away."

  Ras vanished before Rhodan had hardly finished speaking. Five seconds later he rematerialized. Rhodan noticed at once a bleeding wound on the African's neck.

  "They plan to blow up the door," Ras panted, pressing his hand against his injured neck. "They must have found some blasting powder here at the castle. One of the barbarians had the presence of mind to throw his sword at me. It's just a slight cut. We must get away from here immediately or we'll be lost."

  "I wish we could vanish," Bell lamented in a furious voice. "Unless this time-transformer functions to save us, we'll all be blown to bits and pieces. Even if we did get this beautiful metal cylinder!"

  Rhodan looked again at his watch. "Our time is up now. Either now—or never." He turned to Khrest. "How can the immortal know that we've solved our task? He exists in present time, or do you think he traveled backward in time with us?"

  Khrest had no chance to reply for the robot spoke up: "He didn't accompany us, only his spirit did—in the time-transformer. Place the cylinder on the time-transformer, then the positronic brain will check whether it's the object we were supposed to retrieve from the past."

  Silently Rhodan carried out Markon's instructions. Meanwhile all had become quiet outside the chamber door. The barbarians apparently had withdrawn. Was the fuse already burning? "Ras, go, and extinguish the fuse!"

  Ras, whose wound had meanwhile been dressed by Anne Sloane, unhesitatingly obeyed Rhodan's command although he full well realized he risked being left behind in the past in case the secret chamber should be suddenly transported ahead to the future.

  Ras was back again within three seconds. "Impossible, I can't do anything out there!" he shouted, his eyes dilated in terror. "There's no fuse. They simply spread loose powder all over the place outside the door. I imagine they'll ignite the powder by shooting a burning arrow into that mess from a safe distance. There's nothing I can do to prevent that."

  "Then the archer will have to..." began Khrest but he was interrupted by the sudden hum of the time-transformer. It had started to function again. The floor beneath their feet was vibrating. Slowly the cellar shrank in size. The walls were smooth again.

  The return journey to the future had begun. And none too soon. While the wooden door disappeared and gave way to a smooth metal wall, the time travelers were thrown to the ground by a tremendous shockwave. A bright flash of light blinded them momentarily. They barely felt the sudden heat wave. At the same time it grew almost dark again inside the room.

  "We're on our way," Rhodan said, relieved, but sounding quite matter-of-fact, as if time traveling were an everyday occurrence. "I'm confident we've made it."

  "Everyone except me has contributed their share to the success of this mission," Dr Haggard complained. "Why did you want me along, then?"

  Rhodan smiled. "We're all very happy that we didn't need your services, Doc. But you didn't make the trip totally unneeded. Take care of Ras. Anne Sloane's handkerchief is drenched with blood."

  Stepping out of the transmitter that had brought them back to the base on Ferrol, they saw Thora. The beautiful Arkonide woman grew pale at the sight. of Rhodan, Khrest and the rest of the group. Unmistakable disappointment showed in her face. But when she discovered a three days' growth of beard on the men's face her disappointment rapidly changed to astonishment. Slowly she approached the group and looked at the metal cylinder Rhodan held in his hands. She could barely move her lips as she inquired, "I don't quite understand—where did you get this?"

  "From Kerlon," replied Rhodan. "Why should it startle you so much? Wasn't this the purpose of our trip?"

  "How could I possibly have forgotten—in such a short while!"

  She emphasized the last five words in a peculiar manner as she again scanned the men's faces, her eyes questioning and puzzled. Khrest understood at once what her problem was. The immortal was fond of playing tricks on mere mortal creatures. This was not the first time he had done so. Distorting time was nothing but a game and still another means of bluffing and leading astray those who were voluntarily pursuing the trail he had placed for them.

  Khrest's face was hairless. Bell, however, rubbed his stubbly beard and grumbled in embarrassment: "What do you mean by such a short while? Three days will do that to any grown man on Earth."

  "How long were we gone?" asked Khrest.

  "Exactly half an hour," Thora answered softly.

  "I believe," Rhodan remarked in a matter-of-fact voice, "we'll have to get used to such things as long as were dealing with a be
ing that has mastered time and the five dimensions. I often try to imagine what he might look like but I haven't arrived at any conclusion yet."

  To the surprise of everyone, Markon joined the conversation without having been invited to do so.

  "The immortal doesn't look like anything at all..."

  Once again Rhodan was sitting in the center of the positronic brain. It had been an easy task to open the metal cylinder. The automatic seal of the lid had sprung open the moment they arrived in the present time. The lid had simply been sealed by a time lock.

  Inside the tube was a thin foil covered with glowing symbols. Rhodan made a photocopy before he inserted the original into the intake slot of the positronic brain. Then the loudspeaker announced:

  THIS MESSAGE IS NOT WRITTEN IN CODE. TRANSLATION FOLLOWS SHORTLY. WRITTEN VERSION WILL BE AVAILABLE IN HALF AN HOUR.

  That had been twenty minutes ago. Khrest, Bell, Haggard and Thora were waiting together with Rhodan.

  "We must realize," began Rhodan, "that the tasks are becoming increasingly more difficult. The immortal becomes more and more demanding and less considerate of our safety at the same time. If we get caught in a deadly trap it'll be up to us to set ourselves free again. If we should die while trying..." Rhodan shrugged his shoulders.

  "The trail is getting more complex and difficult to follow," agreed Khrest. Then he continued: The track has been placed in such a way, though, that those endowed with superior intelligence and special talents cannot lose it. But if the pursuers should lack the necessary qualifications, they're doomed to perish. And if they lose their lives during the search they don't deserve the gift of immortality. Our unknown friend has everything carefully calculated."

  Rhodan looked at Khrest. "I'm confident the next step will be more challenging than those before."