by Perry Rhodan
Ceshal's voice rang with the sound of one accustomed to giving orders—the voice of the old Arkonides—and besides, it was domineering and arrogant. The lieutenant involuntarily stepped back one or two paces and let his own gun sink.
Alos took advantage of the opportunity. He stepped quickly forward and pushed his way between the two lieutenants. Ceshal stepped over, followed by Tunuter. Ekral held the mouth of his gun under the surprised men's noses.
"Gentlemen!" he began with a stern voice. "If you hold us up, you will be making yourselves guilty of insubordination to your superior officers. You had best accustom yourselves as quickly as you can to the changed situation aboard this ship, which will fall into a sun unless we do something about it."
Meanwhile, Ceshal had reached the control room. He opened the door and stepped in. The others followed him.
C1, standing in front of the controls, looked up at them.
"We have come," said Ceshal with dignity, "to take over command of the ship. I hope that you have informed your men of the change, Commander."
C1 did not flinch. "I'm afraid, Ceshal, that a change in command will not affect the situation. You can consider yourself Commodore again if you like, as far as I'm concerned. I have nothing against it."
Ceshal looked around without understanding. He stared into the expressionless eyes of some officers. Over in the corner the blank screen of the intercom seemed like a piece of fog.
He suddenly felt cold. "What happened?" he asked. "Why is it that you suddenly don't care? Surely you don't want to..."
"We've lost control over the crew, Ceshal. The officers are mutinying. The intercom connections have been broken off. Some of the men I sent in to scout around and report back to me were murdered. Open warfare has broken out between the awakened sleepers and the present-day crew. No one is following my orders any longer." C1 smiled bitterly and made a gesture of resignation. "Commodore Ceshal don't you also think that in these special circumstances it doesn't mean anything who commands the ship?"
Ceshal shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think so. On the contrary! It seems to me of utmost importance that I take over the command. We'll bring an end to the war in the ship, and that as fast as possible. Ekral, you're a scientist—can you think of some way to make the crew docile but still able to work? Or how to deal with the robots? That's more Alos' job. In any case, the engines have to be looked over."
C1 stepped back somewhat as Ceshal began his work without much ceremony or delay. The difference between the millenniums became apparent. Ceshal was a young, active man from one of the first ruling families of Old Arkon. The subsequent degeneration had passed over him as it—had passed over all the other members of the first generation. And that was a situation that was already making itself throughout the ship.
The 5,000 men and woman who had once seen the sun of Arkon standing in the sky, went into action. They took over all the important positions of the ship and manned them with trustworthy officers. The clothing depots were cleaned out and their contents distributed. The food supplies were enough for the first hot meal. Even while it was being passed out, production of more food was in full swing once again. The robots obeyed the new rulers.
In other parts of the ship, members of the first and last generations encountered each other and launched into bitter battles. No one wanted to even listen to the arguments of the other side. Contact with the leadership level had been lost on both sides, but while C-1's men became anarchists, Ceshal's subordinates acted in accordance with discipline and tradition.
However, hunger among them was stronger than any tradition.
The women had remained in the middle deck. They received food and clothing through the hatch but the supply line was choked by the press of new awakees coming out of the ice-sphere. Each of the new arrivals could not be individually informed of the situation. There developed differences of opinion and constant friction.
In the following days, Alos was able to assemble a troop of seven heavily armed robots and program them for his own purposes. He'd had to 'catch' and overcome each of them individually since they did not obey him. Now, however, with electronically delivered orders and programmed patterns of operation, they formed a group of invaluable allies.
Protectively surrounded by this fighting squad, Ekral, Tunuter and Alos made their way towards the engine room where the mechanical defect had to be found. If they could find it in time, it might be possible to save the ship. And that meant everyone on board as well.
If not...
More than once their weapons went into action.
A group of hysterically shouting workers turned a corner and attacked the robots with bared knives, hatchets and metal scrapers. Ekral tried to warn them but his efforts were in vain. Besides, the robots went into action automatically.
The second attack was made by naked men in whose eyes the first glimmers of insanity were beginning to shine. They did not listen to warnings shouted at them and were not frightened away by the robots' threatening weapons.
Alos cursed the ship and his mission and wished only that he could die as soon as possible so that he would not have to kill anyone else.
But—if he gave out now, many more would have to die. Everyone!
He went along behind the others.
He came around the corner of the corridor in time to see six or seven rag-clad figures fleeing.
They had left something behind.
Alos saw Ekral and Tunuter staring at it with wide eyes.
It was the naked body of a man.
Or rather, what was left of it.
5/ PUCKY & RAS TAKE CHARGE
The ship's calendar showed 09/29/2044. Earth-time: 16:57 hours.
Commander Kyser narrowed his eyes as the automatic inscriber began to tick. The gravity meter fit up, announcing that it had registered a change in the gravitational field. The vidscreen flickered uneasily.
Nothing changed on the front vidscreen. The white dwarf star shone in ice-cold beauty in the center of the screen and did not seem to move. Its gravitational field was incredibly enormous and tore fiercely at the light cruiser's stabilizing field.
"Solid matter of slight mass off the starboard bow," said Lt. Lunddorf from the navigation section. "A small moon—or the ship."
"Hopefully the ship," commented Kyser. While it would be an unbelievable piece of luck if he of all people were to find the missing Arkonide Ship of Ancestors, he would be able to attribute a part of the success to his crew—and himself. "Track it!"
Ten minutes later there was no more doubt: they had found the Arkonide ship.
It fell powerlessly and with increasing speed directly towards the white sun, in whose gravity field it had already been caught. Swift calculations showed that it would vaporize in the flaming atmosphere of the hot dwarf in exactly three days and 14 hours.
Commander Kyser had the position data fed into the navigational positronicon's memory banks and went into the com center. Half an hour went by before Terrania came through Marshall Freyt himself was at the other end.
"We've found the ship, sir. What are your orders?"
"Transmit the exact data and then wait."
While Kyser sent on the positional information, Freyt got in touch with Rhodan. Everything ran like clockwork and not a second was wasted. Even while the last instructions were crossing the huge distance of nearly 20,000 light-years, the Drusus was being made ready for takeoff. Rhodan sped towards the spaceport in his turbo-auto and Bell and Pucky rather abruptly ended their brief vacation in the sun. They had no time for vehicular transport. The mouse-beaver took Bell by the hand and teleported with him directly into the control room of the Drusus, where Col. Sikerman was already sitting at the Right controls and waiting for the results of the position calculations.
Rhodan came in five minutes later. He ignored Pucky's triumphant grin and turned directly to Sikerman.
"Have all the mutants ordered on board arrived yet?"
"Yes sir. Ready for takeo
ff!"
"Good—then take off! You'll receive the final data soon."
That was all.
The engines roared into life and the ship shot up into the sky. The Earth sank behind them into a blue-green star. Then the first transition was made.
Rhodan made his report in the meantime. "According to what we know, the Ship of Ancestors is drifting without any pilot. I presume that the hyperspring damaged the engines. It's falling helplessly into a white dwarf star with a strong gravitational field. We must try to capture the ship with the tractor beams and pull it into a new orbit. Whether we'll succeed is another question. We only have a few hours."
Relays clicked in the positronicon.
"Should I try to make contact beforehand with my cruiser?" asked Commander Lund eagerly. "You said I'd be able to do it because the shape of my ship is—"
"We don't have time for experiments," Rhodan interrupted more curtly than he intended. "I'm afraid we'll have to put the teleporters into the field. We don't dare lose a second."
He did not suspect how right he was.
The second spring was precise enough.
When the Einstein Universe rematerialized before their eyes, a small, luminous sphere stood off to the side—the light cruiser commanded by Kyser. Precisely in the direction of flight flamed the white sun which was tagged in the star catalogs with only a number and had no actual name. To the right was a phantom-like shadow—gigantic and round.
"I've tried to make radio contact," reported Commander Kyser, "but no answer. Either they don't want to answer or their equipment isn't working."
"The latter is probable," Rhodan replied. "When the engines fail, the communications equipment will be damaged as well. Remain at your present position. We'll be sending Pucky and Ras Tschubai to the Arkonides first. Later you can help us with an antigrav field. We'll need it."
Ras Tschubai came into the control room. The African teleporter was one of the founding members of the Mutant Corps. Together with Pucky he had already experienced many dangerous adventures. He was familiar with the Ship of Ancestors from the descriptions of the mouse-beaver and was eager to see the ship at first hand. Had he known what surprises were waiting for them, he would have certainly been less enthusiastic about the mission.
"You two will spring from here," Rhodan told them. "Find out if the engines are totally out of commission or if at least some of the equatorial rim motors can be started up. I'm afraid the gravity field of that star there is too strong. We'll need reinforcement or else we'll never bring this off. If any complications develop, spring back here at once and report. Is everything clear?"
The two mutants nodded. They took each other by the hand so as not to be separated during the dematerialization.
Then they disappeared in a violent shimmering of the air. The place where they had just been standing was empty.
Rhodan turned back to the vidscreen and waited.
• • •
The first thing Pucky could see was a group of six or seven scantily clad women. They were attacking a man in uniform. When he no longer resisted, they fell upon, him and stripped him of all his clothing except for his underwear. Without paying any further attention to their victim, they divided the booty and used it to cover their bareness.
"Why are they doing that?" whispered Ras, shaken. "Do you understand it?"
"Not completely, Ras. But evidently they're concerned only about the clothes and not about the man. No wonder—he's anything but pretty in his underpants." Pucky chuckled to himself, considering his observation a well-told joke. He still had no idea how quickly his laughter would die.
The women spotted Ras before he could answer.
"There's another one!" cried one of the women in surprise. "And what kind of animal is that next to him?"
"He'll roast nicely, I think!" exclaimed another and rushed toward the mouse-beaver with a raised steel bar. "I saw him first...!"
Pucky had no desire to be guest of honor at a mouse-beaver banquet. He brought his telekinetic abilities into play and lifted the would-be Diana the Huntress straight up into the air. The screaming Arkonide woman floated along the ceiling to the next bend in the corridor then disappeared around the corner. A muffled fall could be heard when Pucky let her go.
Meanwhile Ras had taken the iron rod from the other attacker. "What kind of madhouse is this?" Ras shouted angrily at the startled women. "Would you tell me what's going on here?"
But Pucky had already examined the thought-content of the still-wavering women and learned some things that nearly took his breath away. He whirled on his own axis and clutched the Afroterranian's arm.
"The ancestors have awakened, Ras! There's hardly enough room for them on the ship. Not enough clothes for all of them! No food! There have already been cases of cannibalism. Some people have barricaded themselves in the food production centers and are defending them bitterly. Glord, Ras, what kind of hell have we stumbled into?"
"Not to mention the fact the ship is about to fall into the sun if something doesn't happen soon. Now, how could all this have come about?"
"The automatic waking impulses must have been triggered by the transition. We have to find the commander. Well spring to the control room; I know where it is."
The ship was of the same class as the Drusus. It was not hard for Pucky to orient himself. The first spring brought him into the command section of the spacesphere. Ras materialized next to him.
The bewildered officer—a lieutenant—was much too slow. Before he could raise his beamer, Ras had disarmed him. There was a second man present in the corridor leading to the control room. He too was armed and seemed uncertain what to think of the two ghosts that had appeared from nowhere.
"We wish to speak, to the commander," Ras told him, playing with the commandeered energy pistol without pointing it directly at the man. "Lead us to him."
Meanwhile the lieutenant had gotten hold of himself. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
"There'll be time for that later, little man," Pucky said to the lieutenant, who was twice as big as he was. "Are you going to take us to the commander or aren't you?"
"We have been ordered not to allow anyone to..."
"Save yourself the rest," growled Pucky in irritation. "I know the way."
He turned the job of watching the rear to his friend Ras and waddled along the corridor, straight for the control room door. While doing so, he sounded out the thought-impulses of the Arkonides on the other side of the wall.
The commander was not alone. With him were some of the ancestors. The awakened sleepers and the men of the present generation were not enemies everywhere.
Pucky opened the door by tripping the electronic lock. He entered the control room together with Ras and suddenly found himself looking at a rather large number of Arkonides who broke off their discussion upon seeing him and stared at him as though he were an apparition.
Pucky was not bothered by it. After all, it wasn't every day that one ran into a mouse-beaver. He wore the uniform made especially for him with its narrow gunbelt but it was clear from the first glance that he was not human. He was too small for that. His broad beaver-tail, which he generally used as a support, slid along the floor.
"Hello, friends," said Pucky, bowing in the direction of the one man he recognized. "Here we are. Didn't I promise you that I would come back when I could, C1? Of course I couldn't know you'd decide to try out the hyperdrive in the meantime..."
C1 had recovered from his surprise. He stepped forward and bent down to the mouse-beaver. "You've kept your promise! You freed us from the rule of the robots once but I'm afraid you won't be able to help us this time. The ancestors..."
"...are awake. I know. They're running around all over the ship and pulling the crew's pants down. Nice way to go! But what's much worse is this: the ship's falling into a sun, C1! If you don't do anything, three more days and you've had it. What's wrong with the engines? Don't they work?"
"Our technicians have been
at work unceasingly on them but so far without success. Besides, we're impeded in our work. All hell is loose in the ship. Bands of robbers attack our people and loot them of everything they have. There isn't any more order. The stronger take all."
Pucky looked at C1 no longer, turning his attention to another man who had stepped forward and was following the conversation with evident interest.
"Who are you?"
Commodore Ceshal gave a start, as though bitten by a snake. "I am Commodore Ceshal of the first generation. I have taken over the command of the Ship of Ancestors, as is my right. And who are you? Where do you come from? Where have you been hiding till now? How is it that you speak my language?"
Pucky looked at Ceshal sourly. "Have I walked in on a quiz show? Well, if I have,I'll ask the questions! First generation, eh? Got up a little early, didn't you?"
Ceshal gasped for breath but Pucky cut him off before he had a chance to speak.
"I already know what you want to say—it's written all over your face. Don't worry. I won't try to take your job away from you and I'll show you proper respect when I have time for it. But now I don’t have the time! We're going to put a tractor beam on your ship and tow it out of the sun's field of attraction. My master wants me to tell you that when that takes place, you are to briefly fire your engines in the direction opposite your current flight path. Have I made myself clear?"
"The engines are not yet functioning," C1 put in.
For his part, Ceshal did not seem ready to lend his help without knowing some more. "Do you come from a planet in the Arkonide Imperium?" he asked, looking down at Pucky. "You don't show the necessary humility, or have conditions changed so drastically in the time that has gone by?"
"Boy, have they!" exclaimed Pucky with malicious delight. "You won't believe your eyes! However, I can reassure you, Ceshal. We come from Terra, the main planet of another stellar empire which didn't exist in your time. Arkon and Terra are friends; that's why we've come to help you."
"Terra?"
"You'll get used to it," Pucky prophesised, "just as you will to the fact that Ras and I are teleporters. Well—what about it? Do you want to be helped or don't you?"
