by Perry Rhodan
Perhaps it had even undertaken a hyperspring...?
Rhodan turned to Pucky. "You were on the ship, Pucky. Were you able to determine with certainty if there was a hyperdrive unit there?"
The mouse-beaver shrugged. "Sorry, Perry. I couldn't search the interior of the ship that closely. I had enough to do, freeing the passengers from the mastery of their robots. I found the ancestors in deep-sleep and informed those on watch. I can't say with any certainty that there was a hyperdrive. In any case, the officers never thought of it. I assume that they didn't know either."
"Then the only discovered it when you left their ship. Perhaps they wanted to fly to the next solar system and finally leave their ship."
"They were flying below speol," Pucky mused. "If they had maintained their speed and course, they would have reached a solar system 200 years later. It could be that that seemed like too long a time to them. After all, they had been underway for 10,000 years."
Lund looked up. His eyes had narrowed. He seemed to have an idea. "Sir, didn't you just say that no one leaves any traces behind in nothing? Are you firmly convinced of that?"
Rhodan returned Lund's look, then a fleeting smile made a momentary appearance on his otherwise tensed features. "I almost overlooked it! The structural sensor! It records every hyperspring and feeds the data into the central positronic files in Terrania. If the Ship of Ancestors ever made a transition in the last year, we'll find it recorded in the files. Not only that! We'll also know how far the ship sprang, in which direction and if it made another transition. Thank you, Lund. As you can see, I'm only human."
"Thank goodness!" chirped Pucky in the background, rolling comfortably into a ball. "When I think of you as a mouse-beaver...!"
• • •
When the Drusus landed, the routine commercial life of Terrania was in full swing. Vehicles and men hurried to and fro in the streets. Airtaxis sped along at low altitudes over the flat roofs, bringing their passengers to the suburbs or to the factories.
The positronic files lay beneath the energy screen.
Accompanied by Lund and Bell, Rhodan entered the building and took the lift up to the appropriate floor. A man in a long white coat received them.
"We've prepared everything, sir," said the file specialist eagerly. "May I ask you to follow me."
"Go ahead, Dirscherl. You know your way around here better than I. It's your job to neutralize the mistakes of others with the help of your numerical manipulations."
"Not only the mistakes, sir." The cyberneticist turned down a corridor. On both sides, the containers with the stored information were stacked as though in an archive. They, too, were arranged in a three-dimensional manner. For example, it was not enough to search under the heading '20,000 light-years'. From the Earth there were more than a million possibilities of measuring a distance of 20,000 light-years and always reaching another sector of space. So the various directions and sectors were divided according to different relative positions. Only in that way was it possible to find a particular place in three-dimensional space from the Earth.
Dirscherl stopped. He pointed to the label on the file container. "Here you'll find all notations for the distance 19,997 to 19,998 light-years. Direction BV-57-C must be the one you want."
"Well, take a look and see," Bell told him sarcastically.
Rhodan waited. Lund, on the other hand, gave the impression of being extremely nervous. He hoped with all his strength that the file would show that the Ship of Ancestors had changed its course.
Dirscherl opened the container and leafed through the file cards until he found the right one. He nodded in satisfaction and handed it to Rhodan.
Only a few seconds went by.
"As far as I can see, only a single transition took place in that sector and that was on September 10, 2044, just 18 days ago. Both the spring into hyperspace and the spring out were recorded. The distance of the spring was precisely 20.3 light-years. Hm, we would have been a long time searching a distance like that."
"Are you certain, sir, that this is the Ship of Ancestors?"
Rhodan looked at Lund. "Anything else would be pure coincidence. It's not very probable." He looked at the card. "Unfortunately, the direction of the spring could not be determined. We'll have to continue our search. But now we at least have something to go on."
Rhodan copied the data and thanked the Cyberneticist. Then they returned to the Drusus and took off for Venus. The side-trip took up only a small amount of time but at least they had obtained certainty.
Rhodan summed it up during the return flight to Earth. "The big positronicon on Venus has stored all the information that a space-faring race needs for finding its way in the Milky Way. We know now that there are only five stars within a radius of 20.3 light-years of the Ship of Ancestors. Which of the five stars was chosen remains a question because we could not find out which of them possesses inhabitable planets. The Arkonides didn't know either. So there's nothing else to do but investigate all five stars. To save time, we'll stay here in Terrania while five cruisers head for the five stars and try to find a sign of the Ship of Ancestors. As soon as we receive some positive information, we'll take off. Any questions?"
Pucky had one. "How long might this take, Perry?"
It sounded a bit reserved and tense. Bell replied, "That depends on how quickly the Ship of Ancestors is found. When we get a report of its position, we'll start."
"And do you want to wait here in the Drusus and not in your home in Terrania?"
"Of course I'll wait at home. I have a lot to do yet. But—why do you ask?"
However, Pucky was not yet finished with his questions. "Once we get the position report, how long will it be before we take off?"
"Half an hour—at most."
With a sigh of relief, the mouse-beaver slid from the couch and hopped over to Bell. "Fatty—we've done it! We can take up our interrupted vacation from where we left off. From our lakeside cottages to the spaceport it isn't more than 10 minutes by car. Just call us, Perry."
Rhodan seemed to have been taken unawares. "Alright, Pucky and Reggie. Under one condition: one of you must stay constantly in range of the videophone in the bungalow! And when the order comes, you must be on board the Drusus in 20 minutes. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly clear!" chirped Pucky happily as he pulled Bell behind him out of the control room.
Bell embodied the proverbial two spirits that are believed to dwell in mankind. He feigned regret over Pucky's strategy while at the same time concealing his joy over its success.
Smiling, Rhodan watched the two go. "I think, Lund," he said then, "that we have the prospect of a few days rest. It won't be easy for the cruisers to find the Ship of Ancestors. We don't know what's happened. We might even be coming too late."
"Sir?" said Lund, bending forward, a shocked expression on his face.
"The Arkonides might have made another transition but this time we wouldn't know from where. Then we wouldn't be searching for a needle in a haystack but for a microbe in the Atlantic. Figure it out for yourself..."
Lund declined thankfully.
3/ WHEN THE SLEEPERS WAKE
For more than 10,000 years, the gigantic ship had drifted through endless space. A sphere 1500 meters through it was of the same type as the Drusus. The Imperium Class of ship had endured for 10,000 years.
Nevertheless, this ship was of a special construction.
In its interior rested in deep-frozen sleep preserved Arkonides, descendants of the first ruling family and its progeny. Only 5,000 of them had been present at the ship's takeoff before the alleged death squad had taken hold of them and thrown them into the deep-freeze installation—if it had happened in that way.
Now it was the members of the last generation who commanded the ships and who had overcome the robots. The robots who had taken command of the Ship of Ancestors.
Months had gone by in the meantime.
Commander C1 was master of the situation, which remained de
licate. The ancestors rested in the ship's interior, waiting to be awakened someday—to settle some planet. C1 was not clear as to what had happened 10,000 years before. In order not to increase the disquiet, Pucky had not told him. C1 was not even aware that he was an Arkonide. The sleepers knew it, however—or at least they would know it once they awakened. And then only the first generations.
The strange visitor had stated that in 200 years the Ship of Ancestors would he captured by a star which possessed suitable planets.
Then the visitor—none other than Pucky—had disappeared just as mysteriously as he had come earlier.
Since then, much in the great ship had changed.
In the first months, the 10,000 awake Arkonides had inaugurated a new way of life. No one was taken by the robots any longer to be put into deep-sleep. Whoever died, and not many died, was pushed out the refuse hatch into space. A certain amount of initial velocity insured that the corpse would not circle the ship like a tiny moon but drift out into the unending reaches of space.
No longer were the robots the masters of the Arkonides; now they were their servants. The robots' reprogramming had been accomplished without difficulty.
The mysterious visitor had said that it would take 200 years (Earth time) to reach the nearest star. The largest part of the 10,000 awake Arkonides would live to experience the landing. But even so, 200 years was a long time.
On September 8, 2044 the ship's first officer brought that into the discussion during a conference in the control room. "I don't understand, C1, why we should wait idly for these 200 years to go by. We have a decent ship here with well-functioning engines. We don't know what the ancestors intended but 10,000 years are a long time. In the galaxy, much could have changed. in other words, I don't see why we should idly wait for fate to overtake us."
Medic M-3 nodded in agreement. Engineers E-4 and E-7 also seemed to concur with O-1. The commander realized that resistance was hardly appropriate but he was also aware of his duties and his responsibility.
"None of us are familiar with the ship's engines. For as long as we can remember, we've been flying far below the speed of light. I've taken the trouble of studying the scientific data contained in the hypno-library, O-1. Springing through hyperspace was developed 10,000 years ago as the best way of getting from place to place. Every ship was equipped with hyperdrive. This one, too, probably. The robots have never used it. Whether that was due to their lack of initiative or to their orders, we don't know. In any case, I don't know if we should dare..."
"Why not?" O-1 interrupted brusquely. "Haven't we become independent? Aren't we now the masters of our fate? Can't we do what seems proper? Who will stop us?"
C1 saw an escape. "If there isn't any hyperdrive equipment aboard, then we won't have to decide. We'll have to continue until we reach the planetary system we were told about."
O-1's face assumed a triumphant expression. "Allow me, C1, to let a specialist say a few words. E-7 has discovered a few on board the ship after looking around."
"Alright," said the commander despite his increasing feeling of discomfort.
The engineer, who because of his leading role during the revolt against the robots had practically risen to the rank of officer, stepped forward. "The ship's interior contains machinery for the deep-freeze sleep," he began. But not only that. The engines are there, too. Wonderful engines with which this ship could be steered through the entire galaxy—judging from what we know from the charts as to what the galaxy is and how large it is. I needed several weeks to study the propulsion system. I think I'm familiar with it now and how to operate it. In brief: if a decision is made to take the ship into transition, I can calculate the spring and carry it out."
"I don't, know if the ancestors would permit such a thing," the commander began.
He was interrupted immediately by the first officer. "We won't ask the sleepers. We are in control of the ship. We set the course. We were tangled up long enough in a net of fear and lies thanks to the ancestors' machinations. It's time that we took the initiative. We will head for the nearest solar system and land on a suitable planet. Then, for all I care, the sleepers can be awakened. There are enough men and women for us to found a new race."
"Is that the purpose of this ship?" asked the commander.
He did not receive a reply.
Medic M-3 raised both hands and said calmingly: "How are we to know the purpose of our journey if we were duped millenniums ago? I believe we have a right to take our fate into our own hands from now on. If E-7 has succeeded in discovering hyper-engines, then we should use them as soon as possible to reach a destination. And our destination can only be an inhabitable planet."
"I agree!" O-1 added.
The two technicians nodded.
C1 found himself outvoted. "I submit to the majority," he said, "but I want it to be known that for various reasons I'm granting my authority only under duress. The main reason is this: we know too little about the so-called hyperdrive and have no experience with it. If something goes wrong, we'll be lost. Or can E-7 perhaps repair the engines if they fail during their functioning? Maybe we’re supposed to reach our goal at our present velocity."
"Why then do we have the hyperdrive?" asked the medic with a side-glance at O-1. "It wasn't put here by accident."
"But it is here!" said O-1 coldly.
The commander looked down helplessly at his hands. "All the arguments that have been brought up here today sound logical and convincing no matter which side they came from. I have no other choice than to submit to the majority."
"Does that mean you're giving us permission to calculate and carry out a hyperjump?" O-1 inquired cautiously.
The commander nodded to him. "It can be interpreted that way, yes. If M-3 agrees too..."
"I'm in favour of the experiment," the medic added quickly, as though he feared the commander might change his mind. "The sooner we land on a planet, the better." Suddenly he shook his head. "Can any of us even imagine what a planet is and what it looks like?"
They had been born on the ship and had never known any world other than the ship. There were books aboard which spoke of huge globes circling flaming suns. They were natural bodies, not artificial, and the inhabitants lived on the globe instead of in it. The sun made it possible, supplying warmth and energy.
"Life on such a world must be more pleasant than that in the ship," said O-1, convinced. "I even read in one of the books that ships such as ours served only for transportation, as crazy as the idea may seem. Life on a planet is more natural and worth striving for, it would seem. If we activate the hyperdrive, we'll be following a law of nature. We're searching for a home, that's all."
"A world without manufactured air," mused C1. "It's unimaginable and disturbing. Who knows what disappointments await us? All right, O-1. See that all the necessary arrangements are made. Take no risks. The first spring must succeed. I'll never permit a second one."
That had been on September 8, 2044.
Two days later the first officer reported that the technical department had painstakingly examined and analyzed the hyper-engines. The positronicons appertaining thereto had been activated and were ready for action. However, the commander had not lost any of his skepticism.
"Now you want the star charts to figure the spring?" he asked.
"A directed spring isn't possible without them, because the necessary data is given on the charts. Our position as well can be determined from them."
"We're fortunate," said the commander, "that such charts are on board at all. I found them over in the wall cabinet. We should probably regard their presence as proof that self-determined flight manoeuvres are permitted for the ship."
"The presence of the hyperdrive alone was enough," said O-1 triumphantly. He stepped next to the commander and bent over the charts that were spread out on a table. "We'll shoot for the next star in order to keep the risk as slight as possible. In a straight line... yes, only a slight change of course would be necessary. Assumi
ng the data are correct..."
"Why shouldn't they be?" demanded the commander. For once he seemed more confident than the first officer. "I've studied the textbooks and I'm familiar with the theory of a spring. How it looks in practice, I don't know."
"Well, we'll find out," commented O-1 grimly and determinedly. "Ever since I've known that in the interior of this ship many generations of our people are resting in deep-sleep, I've been haunted by the horrible nightmare that they might suddenly wake up."
The commander looked up. His face had gone pale. "Why should that happen, O-1? We won't disturb their sleep until we've landed on a planet. Those ancestors who were present when the ship took off know about life on a planet. They'll have to help us."
The first officer seemed to want to drop the unpleasant topic. "Give me the charts, C1, so that I can calculate the data. One of the robots has promised his support. He claims he was once a navigation robot. In the past few days our best technicians have studied the fundamentals of the drive in all details. The reprogrammed robots with their experience will be standing at our side. It can and must not go wrong, commander."
"Of course not, O-1. What should I do from here?"
"I'll stay in touch with you. When everything's ready, you have only to pull the camouflaged switch over on the control panel. Everything else will be taken care of automatically. I'll let you know."
The commander sat down, watching him go.
It looked very much like the long journey was coming to an end.
No one knew where the ship had come from. The log-books said nothing about it nor were the other pieces of available information helpful. When the robots had taken over, it had been—insofar as it had been available—destroyed. The goal and purpose of the trip lay just as hidden in the night of time.
The commander thought of the sleepers. They rested stacked up in a huge hollow sphere in the center of the ship. The surveillance robots had brought them there after preparation in the freezing chambers. The freezing chambers now stood empty, for no one was being put into deep-sleep anymore now that the robots had been put back into their cases.
