by Perry Rhodan
He suppressed his subliminal anxiety. He had to devote himself to the task before him. But in spite of this he was plagued by doubt. What were these plans, actually, that he had thought out? They had come to him simultaneously with the expansion of his abnormal faculties. At some time or another he would have to take time to get to the bottom of his discomforture.
11/ THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
A false rapture of lassitude and weariness lapped against his semi-conscious mind, threatening to wash it away. But he had slept enough. The memory of all that unutilized time of rest pained him now. He had since resigned himself to everything and had lost all hope when the unexpected rescue came. His thoughts drifted back farther.
Again came the vision of the mighty spaceship, ripped by the explosion. Again he was reeling along the corridor with the shriek of escaping air pounding in his ears. half-dazed by the sudden pressure drop.
Somewhere ahead was an emergency module... men and women running toward it. Blinded by pain and grief, he staggered toward the rescue mod. There in the chamber they were falling to the deck around him and crying for help even as the lack of air caused their thinning voices to fail. He felt the lock opening of the small lifeship under his groping hands, his blood-flooded eyes only able to make out shadows before him. He climbed into the interior and called on his last ounce of strength to activate the catapult.
When he regained consciousness, various pieces of wreckage from the great exploration ship were still drifting near him.
He was saved by an unbelievable coincidence. The catastrophe had happened in the vicinity of a solar system. He chose the only available oxygen world for a landing place. With new confidence he disembarked from the lifeboat. Maybe he would find here a space-traveling race of people who could help him to get back to his home planet.
He was bitterly disappointed. Granted, there were intelligent natives here, but their civilization was only in its beginning stages. Even if he were to intervene and accelerate their technical development, it would not suffice for what he needed. So he ultimately resigned himself to remaining on this planet forever. He activated his psi powers in order to make a thorough study of the habits and customs of the local inhabitants. After all, if he were going to stay here he might as well lead a reasonably comfortable life. A number of changes in his cellular structure enabled him to take on the appearance of an Eppanian, as the indigenous people called themselves.
And he gave himself a name: Mataal!
Later he applied himself to the career of a gladiator in the arena and the fame he won as a result of his inexhaustible special faculties made him rise quickly in popularity. He sought to forget his home world but the primitive level of Eppanian society was unable to satisfy him.
Then one day he received a shock of surprise—in the form of a telepathicontact. Could it be possible that a telepath might be living among these barbarians? Mataal was overjoyed. His expectations were exceeded by far.
A small spaceship had landed on the planet not far from the city and had infiltrated a telepathic being. It was a young man from some alien race who had disguised himself as an Eppanian. But the disguise pointed out the fact that although his race possessed the gift of telepathy it was not capable of molecular and cellular transformation.
Here was his great opportunity. With the help of the telepath he would perhaps be able to return to his home planet. Even if he failed in that, at least he'd be able to live a fuller life among the peoples of this telepathic race. He was tired of primitive existence and longed once more to go out and prove himself by great deeds.
He carefully studied the newcomer and so he learned through Goldstein every detail of the motive behind his presence here. Goldstein's extensive knowledge in general concerning the Solar Empire plus his specific information regarding Perry Rhodan were items that unfolded before Mataal, giving him a vivid impression of a young, progressive race of humans who had entered the phase of expansion into the universe.
Thousands of years ago, Mataal's race had also been numerous and powerful but now things were different. The last survivors of his kind had been in the process of launching expeditions from a very small solar system out into the immeasurable reaches of space in order to add what they could to their already extensive knowledge. Mataal's race was slowly shrinking in numbers and seemed to be waning in a down-phase without any hope of halting the process. Mataal knew that they were at the end of a long cycle—their grand epoch was at the autumnal equinox of its days.
For such reasons as this, the Terranian represented a great opportunity. The advent of the stranger opened for Mataal the possibility of again taking part in events on a cosmic scale. He discovered that there were only few humans who were gifted with psi faculties. In other words, they were also just making their beginnings in the expansion of their paranormal potentials. Therefore, if he himself were to operate shrewdly and with careful circumspection he would he able to make a contribution of perhaps inestimable value to his once mighty race.
Mataal controlled himself, taking care not to rush his plans, but he proceeded tenaciously in small ways to prepare the telepath for his purposes. He decided to keep himself in the background. While Goldstein inadvertently performed his work for him, he would be able to observe and learn and work out further stages of planning.
It hadn't been much of an effort to join Goldstein when he was taken on board the guppy again. Of course he put up a convincing fight for the aliens before he allowed himself to be 'kidnapped'.
Goldstein, who was nothing more than a tool in Mataal's hands, began to operate as directed. Mataal had worked out everything very thoroughly. The young telepath had to think that his new powers were something that had always been slumbering within him. Gently, Mataal guided him along the desired course of action. Adroitly, so that Goldstein would not detect the source, he had awakened megalomaniac ideas in the mutant. In order to avoid internal conflicts in the youngster, Mataal had been careful to dissipate any pangs of conscience. There was only one incident where Goldstein succeeded in momentarily escaping the clutches of psychic coercion. While Mataal was deeply immersed in a study of the crew members, he noticed almost too late that Goldstein was attempting to warn the Commander.
Mataal penetrated more deeply into the mutant so that such incidents would be impossible in the future. While Goldstein continued to believe that he was conquering the vessel for his own purposes, Mataal could study the mentalities of the humans without detection. He had to learn, learn, learn. Only then could he seriously consider confronting this race of people so that he could rule over them and have them serve his goals.
When the first demonstrations of paralysis occurred, the eye of suspicion turned immediately to him. This he had expected. This was the critical point that he had to get past without revealing his true nature. Thanks to his impregnable calm and self-control he was able to appease them and dissipate their feelings of distrust. When the medico gave him an injection, he pretended to be affected by it and they believed it.
The men began to suspect and blame each other. Mataal thus obtained an insight into a great number of human motivational factors. The various characteristics of this one small group afforded him a reliable key to their entire race, by inference.
And what a race this must be! Mirrored in the thoughts of these men was the archetypal image of their life and death, their battles, victories and defeats. Mataal came to know of their joys and sorrows, their humor and their earnestness, of their loves and hates. He was overwhelmed by the aspect of such a sentimental and sensitive way of life. How was it possible for them to have developed with such explosive rapidity. It would have seemed more logical to him if these strange beings had torn each other to pieces by now because each of them harbored his own personal ambition.
How it had been possible for such a mass of individualists to follow any goal in their common interest remained a mystery for Mataal. Since the combined knowledge of the crew could not be hidden from him, he came to susp
ect that the existence of the Arkonides was no small factor in the development of humanity. Assistance from the Arkonides had been more or less on an involuntary basis—thanks to the adroit manoeuvrings of this legendary Perry Rhodan, whose image appeared to dominate the minds of the crew members.
Perry Rhodan—there was his man! Only through him would Mataal be able to realize his ambitious designs. Was it not miraculous that an unforeseen shipwreck should be the means for his own race to regain a foothold on life and once more assume an important role in the great drama of the Cosmos?
Since Goldstein was not particularly restricted in his own freedom of action, he began to modify some of the concepts and ideas that had been suggested to him by Mataal. The mutant experimented with pseudo-bodies in order to test his power over them. And here was a further key to fathoming human behavior. Mataal did not hinder Goldstein in these attempts because they could hardly encroach upon the main issue at hand.
After Goldstein had paralyzed almost all of the spacemen, the time drew nearer for the Commander to begin suspecting the mutant. Mataal had secretly armed himself in case it became necessary to take direct action. But Goldstein went ahead and fully played the role Mataal had assigned him to: that of the power-obsessed megalomaniac. Nevertheless, Mataal was able to sense the youngster's subconscious uneasiness. What he was doing was in conflict with Goldstein's true nature. So Mataal's psychic grip on him continued to tighten so that he could hold him in the vice.
The men who had been released from their trance began to fight against Goldsteins demands. Mataal could now appreciate his own foresight in having worked indirectly through the mutant, since the latter was better attuned to his own kind and could therefore detect and react to human emotions more swiftly. He himself could have continued to secure his own retreat by remaining incognito but now there was no more time in which to acquire new knowledge concerning these people.
Mataal's thoughts returned to the present. His weariness was gone. He felt refreshed and was his old enterprising self again.
Beneath the bridge he sensed the faint pulse of another' pseudo-form which the mutant was hiding there. Mataal was certain that the men were not paying attention to him. For them he was a barbarian grown weak from homesickness, who was forced to share their fate. They didn't have time for sympathy, however, because they were completely occupied with forging their plans of attack against Goldstein.
Their persistence in the face of multiple defeats was astonishing. Mataal knew he had to take into account the fact that he would later be confronted with men of a similar character—human beings who were not easily resigned to subjugation and would continue to fight even in the face of hopeless odds.
• • •
Goldstein slowly guided the second pseudo-form from underneath the bridge. What would happen if he were to add both of the synthesized masses together? How would such a glob of matter react to being outside the Fauna in empty space? Would it still continue to be controllable?
The mutant permitted the second pseudo-body to come closer. It wouldn't do any harm if the crew became aware of it. Along with the other block of pseudo-material hanging over their beads it was an additional demonstration of his power.
Goldstein kept the chunk of matter hovering nearby, the chunk he had put together out of the former pieces of the staircase. A swift survey of the thoughts of the men did not reveal that he was in danger at the moment. So he could continue his work undisturbed.
He then combined the two pseudo-masses and caused them to disappear. Actually, he guided the total assembly toward the outer hull of the ship. Then he hesitated, considering a precaution. Maybe it would be better to carry out the next stage of the experiment inside the airlock.
While Goldstein stood there behind the navigation table and kept a sharp eye on his immediate surroundings, the enlarged pseudo-body floated into the airlock. To steer the thing, a fraction of Goldstein's paranormal essence had to go with it. It worked the same way it had in penetrating the walls of the cabins: Goldstein brought the accumulated blob of matter outside into the abyss of space.
What followed was like a log-jam breaking, releasing a new series of events like an uncontainable flood. That part of Goldstein's mind which had been guiding the pseudo-body now found itself outside of the ship—and also beyond the invisible grasp of Mataal.
It was a curious process, comparable to the first tender probings of a plant before breaking upward from the earth. The first effect was a painful amplification of Goldstein's sense of uneasiness. In some terrifying way he felt split in half—as though there were two of him. His mind was subdivided into two separate planes which were fundamentally opposed to one another. That part of his consciousness which had been carried outside by his paranormal faculties seemed to be trying to transmit important information to him. Everything in Goldstein rose up in a bristling conflict, his other-consciousness striving desperately to prevent a transmission of the vital message.
His deep sense of uneasiness grew and grew. It pushed and bored its way upward. That part of his being which had withdrawn itself from Mataal's control fought in a silent frenzy against the stubborn vice that still held him imprisoned.
• • •
Mataal did not recognize his mistake until the pseudo-body was already outside the guppy. Abruptly he found his secure position to be disrupted. Panic seized him. Only quick action now would be able to save him. The terrible realization that he seemed on the verge of losing this great opportunity for his race in a matter of moments threatened to incapacitate him.
The thrust of paranormal power radiating from the pseudo-body became stronger. Unconsciously, Goldstein was pouring more of his intrinsic essence outside the ship. In but a few moments he would be able to comprehend the true state of affairs.
The pseudo-form had to be destroyed. Mataal slackened his hold on Goldstein's mind in order to concentrate all his strength on this other task.
That was his second mistake. While he devoted all of his attention to the situation outside the airlock, he gave Goldstein enough time to receive the information that the freed portion of his consciousness was stubbornly trying to transmit.
• • •
Goldstein's inner unrest was converted into a frightening realization. The resulting mental torment caused him to groan aloud. The men around him were startled. They tensed in the expectation of a sudden weakening on the part of the mutant.
A shock ran through Goldstein as Mataal began to dissolve the pseudo-body in space. Almost simultaneously a stifling shield seemed to shatter within his head. He heaved a great sigh of relief.
In graphic clarity he saw the truth. What had he done? What misdeeds had he been forced to perpetrate here? He felt the waves of hatred directed against him from those around him.
Mataal didn't give him any more time for reflection. The blob of matter returned suddenly inside the K-262. And immediately the pressure returned to his brain.
But Goldstein had recognized his enemy and now took up the battle. He let a portion of his paranormal strength pour back into the pseudo-form that hung poised over the bridge in order to have a wider range for meeting Mataal's wild onslaught.
The spacemen knew nothing of the strange duel that raged invisibly around them. Of course they saw the young mutant's face strain under the effort and sweat emerge on his forehead. But no word was spoken.
The sheer mortification of knowing that all this time he had been nothing but a lowly tool in the hands of another was enough to drive Goldstein to superhuman efforts. The dam had broken completely. A stubborn young man had regained his freedom and was prepared to defend it. A spark had ignited in Goldstein, which now burst into flame and burned inextinguishably within him, setting every last corner of his consciousness on fire.
He had to vanquish Mataal!
• • •
Mataal withdrew his attention momentarily from the block of pseudo-matter which he had brought to a position above him. He sprang to his feet as Goldst
ein's thoughts assailed him with an unbridled savagery. He sought to tighten his hold on the mutant but it was too late.
"Mataal!" Goldstein's voice rang out on the bridge while everybody ducked from previous experience. "Mataal—I'm onto you now!"
Mataal trembled visibly. With a tremendous effort he fought for his self-possession. Now he must enter the fray directly. The men had not yet caught the meaning of Goldstein's shoutings and they stood where they were, hesitating.
The faculties Mataal had bestowed upon Goldstein back on Eppan had to be extinguished, after which he would have to take over the mutant's position. It would leave him no time for further observations but it would increase his safety considerably.
With pitiless strength, Mataal bruted his way into the appropriate regions of the other's inner self. Glowing hot needles pierced Goldstein's brain. High-tension mental currents shorted and discharged within him as a madness of dissolution threatened the youthful mutant. It all happened within the span of a second. Then suddenly Goldstein reverted to the ordinary telepath that he had always been.
That was Mataal's third and final mistake!
Even as he sensed a triumphant relief he stood on the brink of destruction. The pseudo-mass above him was suddenly deprived of its supporting essence. It became an ordinary block of metal and under the influence of the gravitational field that was generated inside the guppy it represented a weight of several hundred pounds.
It was an inert chunk of matter that crashed down on top of Mataal and buried him under its weight.
