Life Hunt

by Perry Rhodan

  Perry Rhodan

  Atlan And Arkon #43

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  Life Hunt

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  1/ MISSION: LIFE SERUM

  AT STAKE: the life of his wife Thora. And of his Arkonide friend, the venerable Khrest. The medical technology that had so far arrested the inexorable toll of physical decay now worked its miracle no longer. A new serum developed on Earth had held out hope but even that would soon prove inadequate.

  On Wanderer, the Planet of Eternal Life, It, the keeper of the secret of the cell-shower, the life-renewal process, had refused to grant its boon to the Arkonides.

  So now Perry Rhodan sat on the planet Hellgate, 12,348 light-years distant from his home world, contemplating a dark future and preparing to listen for the first time to the reports sent over the past few months from his agents on the planet Tolimon.

  Meanwhile, a light cruiser was taking off for Earth with Atlan the Timeless aboard as prisoner.

  Perry activated the hypercom message-storage unit. Reports of no special importance issued first; these he barely listened to. His gaze wandered out of the steel dome—the only place where human life could exist on this heat-bathed world—and out across the desert shimmering in the pallid yellow radiance of Star ZW-2536-K957.

  Needing a secret base of operations as close to the planet Tolimon as possible, Rhodan had selected this sun's satellite Hellgate, a dead and useless world on the outermost perimeter of the Arkonide Empire. Tolimon itself was 81 light-years from Hellgate and orbited Revnur's Star, a G-type sun, as the second of six planets.

  A year had passed since Perry Rhodan's attention had first been drawn to Tolimon. He was always interested in the activities of the galaxy's race of medical geniuses, the Aras, and Tolimon was one of their worlds. More importantly, it was probably unique in the known universe: an entire planet dedicated to a single purpose: a galactic zoo.

  Rhodan's reasoning followed the form of an equation: Galactic Doctors + Zoo = Research. His conclusion led him to send two of his Mutant Corps to Tolimon, where they had now been for eight months. The mutants, telepath John Marshall and his feminine colleague Laury Marten, had been given the assignment of solving one certain problem. At irregular intervals over the subsequent months they had sent hycom reports to Hellgate and it was to these that Rhodan was now listening.

  The recorder played back a message sent three weeks before. John Marshall's voice was unmistakable. He spoke only three sentences and each one was disappointingly negative: he and Laury Marten had been unable to make any further progress on Tolimon.

  There were no more messages after that. Perry switched off the machine. For him a long period of waiting was now beginning—but he had no time to wait.

  Death by natural causes had seemed inevitable for Khrest and Thora—but then Rhodan's agents had brought back rumors concerning Tolimon, rumors of men living in the giant Ara zoo for centuries... never growing old.

  Merely rumors?—or a ray of hope?

  For Thora's sake, for Khrest's, Rhodan had to know.

  Had the Aras, those medical masters of the Galaxy, developed a life-prolonging serum many times more effective than the Arkonide formula? If they had, if there actually was such a serum, Rhodan had to have it.

  But for the time being all he could do was sit in purgatory on this hell world, waiting until John Marshall and Laury Marten at last approached their goal...

  2/ A DANGEROUS OPERATION

  ON THE Street of the Great Moh in the crowded center of the city Trulan, the Springer named Ixt left his luxuriously furnished office and unobtrusively entered the large, modernly equipped salesroom.

  A robust Ara was dickering with two clerks. "That isn't any kind of a fair price—that's robbery! I could buy gegerutavis for half that anywhere else. Look, friends, I'll pay 180—agreed?"

  "That's fine—for one gegerutavi," said Futgris, Ixt's best clerk, nodding to the angry Ara in a friendly way.

  "For the pair! " raged the Ara. "On Aralon they sell pairs for 40!"

  Futgris grinned. "Of course! In fact, Aralon is where we get our gegerutavis, but don't forget that Aralon is about 10,000 light-years from Tolimon. We do have to pay for shipping, you know."

  "This is outrageous!" stormed the Ara, hitting a cage with his fist for emphasis. The blow woke up one of the hiobargulloos sleeping inside and set it to howling.

  Startled, the Ara stepped back and stared at the cage from which the racket resounded. When the hiobargulloo finally quieted down, he stammered: "What is that—some kind of merchandising gimmick to lure the customers in so you can bilk them with your outrageous prices?"

  Futgris answered coolly: "At 20 per, we're selling hiobargulloos very cheaply. For 35 you can have the pair. They drop litters eight times a year, six offspring every time."

  But the Ara was not without a sense of humor. Suddenly he grinned broadly. "Fine! I'll take a pair! But you might give me a guarantee that the little beasts will scream like that any time they're scared."

  "Oh," said Futgris reassuring him, "there's nothing easier than that, sir. Don't you know that in the natural state these cold-blooded animals are quiet only when they're asleep? In fact, we keep them lightly drugged to insure their quietude, which is why they're so still now. May I be so bold as to inquire what sort of research you wish to use the hiobargulloos for?"

  The Ara grinned even more broadly and rubbed his hands. "Research? Nothing of the kind! This is going to be a gift: tomorrow is my mother-in-law's birthday! Instead of a pair of melodiously singing gegerutavis, I'm going to give her these little monsters! Could you drug them so they won't start up until noon tomorrow or so? Oh, this is going to be such fun!"

  At that point Futgris had the impudence to ask, "My dear sir, aren't you going a bit too far with your mother-in-law?"

  Thus reminded, the Ara grew meek. He nodded seriously and said, depressed, "You could be right... Pack up a pair of gegerutavis for me, too, just in case!" Once more he hit the cage with his fist for emphasis and once more all hell broke loose from inside.

  Visibly shaken by the second outburst, the man risked a look inside the cage. A furry blue creature the size of a man's hand, distinguished by a loosely hanging dewlap under its chin, raised itself up on three fins in a comer and looked at him half-asleep through unnaturally clear eyes.

  "What!" exclaimed the Ara in his booming voice, looking at Futgris distrustfully. "You mean to tell me that little ball of fur can make all that noise...?" But the Ara had forgotten himself and banged once more on the cage.

  The little animal yet again shrieked its fright.

  The man was half-deaf when he finally left Ixt's animal shop with his menagerie.

  All the clerks watched him go, and among them was Ixt, who had kept inconspicuously in the background. Nothing in his face betrayed the great concern that bothered him. Nothing about him betrayed the fact that he was in truth no Springer at all—that his appearance was only a skilfully crafted disguise. As he walked through the large display and sales area in returning to the luxury of his office, Ixt greeted his employees the same way he did every morning even though his thoughts were far away from mundane matters of business.

  He considered the Ara who had bought a pair of hiobargulloos and a pair of gegerutavis—at government expense!

  Ixt had read the Ara's every thought: again and again the Ara had silently cursed his 'crazy' assignment. Because certain unclarities were present in the information Ixt had supplied regarding his birthplace and clan membership and none could be cleared up despite all checking through the records, the Ara had been detailed to keep a watch on the alleged Springer.

  Ixt shut the office door behind him and muttered,
"It seems to me somebody back on Earth goofed!"

  Disguised as an animal dealer, John Marshall had learned by his telepathic examination of his Ara 'shadow' that he planned to bring the noisy hiobargulloos back to Ixt's animal shop the next day. The Ara intended to make a recording of Ixt's brainwaves, too, and without the Springer noticing.

  Marshall nodded grimly and ceased his surveillance over the mind of the agent from the Ara secret service. Countermeasures had to be taken by next morning at the latest. First he had to get in touch with Rohun the Springer captain but it struck Marshall as too dangerous to try calling him over the city communications system.

  When he left the shop 10 minutes later, Marshall went by Futgris and told him "I'll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. Take over for me and do a good job."

  "Yes sir!" answered the clerk, his eyes fairly glowing with joy. Never before had he had a boss like Ixt and it was a pleasure to work for him.

  Hardly 10 steps farther down the street, John Marshall had already forgotten that he was owner of one of the most exclusive animal dealerships in Trulan. Only one problem occupied his mind: how was he going to slip unnoticed into his hideout in the slums?

  • • •

  "Arga," said Gege Moge angrily, pointing excitedly at the creature on the examination table, "don't you see that once again we're dealing with an anaphylactic shock? How often do I have to tell you that these violent reaction symptoms should appear under no circumstances during the preliminary tests? Now the entire preliminary test series has been rendered questionable! Have this binn sent over to Dissection and tell them I want to know why he's allergic to his own blood serum. Why can't the U-Lf54 Serum, which is taken from binns, be used on intelligence levels below C? And does it have the best results when used on levels B and G? Make it clear to the Dissection Department that I must have their findings tomorrow morning! Now get going and see that everything's taken care of!"

  With an angry look the Ara doctor watched the Arkonide girl, a medical student named Arga Silm, leave. Then he turned his attention to the dead binn, a late member of a species no one could accurately classify. A binn was a sort of halfway point between the plant and animal kingdoms. Carrying on respiration after the fashion of plants, it ate and drank in a distinctly animal manner. The binns were indeed neither plant nor animal but living things possessing intelligence, even if that particular attribute was rather limited and rated at Level C.

  Gege Moge regarded with the eyes of a scientist the flat body with five members that served just as well for locomotion as for grasping and working. The binn was just over three feet long and weighed almost 90 pounds. Its head resembled a flower stalk and all its sense organs lay behind orifices which were now closed in death. Nothing could be seen of the mouth, the orientation sensor or even the ring of eyes. Formerly a warm-blooded creature, the binn lay stiff and cold on the examining table—dead from the serum its own body had produced.

  "Poor fellow," commented the Ara scientist, somewhat moved. "I've known you for more than 300 years and suddenly now you're gone. It's too bad, binn. I've always enjoyed working with you!"

  He left the room and met the Arkonide student Arga Silm once more in the hall. He stopped her. "Go to the zoo and pick out two new binns. I need them for tomorrow morning."

  "But I'm not authorized to go into the zoo's restricted area, Moge," the student reminded him, looking expectantly at the Ara with her marvelously radiant eyes.

  Already walking on, the Ara doctor told her "I'll arrange for the Administration to give you permission but just to be sure, check with them before you go to the zoo and see if everything is alright."

  He isn't lying! thought the Arkonide student. He only said what he really thought! At last I have something to report to John Marshall!

  The Arkonide student was neither Arkonide nor a student. She was in reality Laury Marten, a disguised Terran agent who, like her partner John Marshall, could read other people's minds. She walked thoughtfully to the antigrav lift, on her way to the wing of the building in which she had been living for months.

  In her mind she was already formulating the text of the message she intended to 'send' to John Marshall.

  Rohun the Springer captain could not betray John Marshall and Laury Marten. Too many of his own interests were involved in his dealings with Perry Rhodan's agents to switch sides. Anyway, he was just not the type to be a traitor. Marshall had checked Rohun's thoughts repeatedly, never finding any reason to distrust him.

  And now he sat across from him. When John Marshall's face suddenly showed he was no longer listening, the Springer had been trying to convince him his best course was abandoning the animal dealership and forgetting about the hideout in Trulan's vast slum district. The Springer captain had seen that expression before.

  John Marshall had become a telepathic receiving station!

  Laury Marten, daughter of Rolf Marten and Anne Sloane, transmitted the news of her first success to him.

  "Ixt," said Rohun, leaning forward, "are you still listening to me?"

  Marshall made a hand gesture that meant he was not. Rohun leaned back, having decided that patience was his only alternative.

  Concentrating strongly, his eyes half-closed and his body motionless, Marshall sat rigid in his seat and telepathically instructed Laury Marten to determine at all costs whether or not there were in fact Terrans being held behind the zoo force-fields.Try to find out whether they're male or female, what countries they come from and when they were born, Laury. If you have to, use your disintegration power. But above all, don't fail to make contact with them. According to all the reports from the other agents, there are people in the zoo; you must find them, Laury! Do I make myself clear?

  I understand perfectly, replied Laury Marten via telepathic impulse and with that the mental connection between the two Terrans was broken.

  John Marshall looked like someone who had just been awakened from a light doze. He raised his head, opened his eyes and relaxed.

  He took up the conversation with Rohun again where he had left off. "I don't want to give the animal shop up, Rohun. As long as the Ara secret service is only investigating, the danger isn't serious yet. I just want to know if I can depend on you in case of emergency. That's why I came. What do you have to say?"

  As usual, Marshall kept watch on the Springer captain's thoughts. The question had clearly angered Rohun.

  "I don't have to say anything!" he growled. "Haven't my clan and I risked our necks already? My best men will be on their way to rescue you the minute you call for help! I'll even risk my ship if I must!"

  Marshall suddenly jerked his head. Apprehension flashed momentarily in his eyes. Then the emotionless Springer expression returned to his face. "Rohun," he said, "the Ara Secret Service hasn't been sleeping! You're about to have a visit from the same agent who showed up in my store today! He's already in the ship and on the way to your cabin! Where can I hide in this room?"

  Rohun, the old daredevil and ice-cold calculator, allowed a few inarticulate sounds to escape his lips. He already knew that Marshall had a sixth sense for danger but that Marshall's sense could be so explicit was something completely new to him.

  "Get out through here!" exclaimed Rohun excitedly, standing by a small door.

  "No—I want to stay in your cabin, Rohun. The Ara doesn't know I'm on board! Quick—find a place for me to hide!"

  The situation was not at all to Rohun's liking. Like all Springers, he gave little credence to the supernatural and what Marshall was now doing struck him has nothing but supernatural. Even so, he gave in under John Marshall's forceful gaze—but only reluctantly.

  "Don't make him suspicious," Marshall warned the Springer captain. "He won't ask too many questions!" With that, Marshall lay down on his stomach and crawled under Rohun's bunk, which concealed him perfectly.

  Not long after, a clan member entered Rohun's cabin and asked the captain if he would permit one Huxul from the Alien Control Commission to come in. "What
else can I do?" Rohun demanded, resigned.

  Huxul, the Ara who had bought the pairs of gegerutavis and hiobargulloos in Ixt's shop, pushed his way into the cabin. "Are you Springer Captain Rohun? If so, then let me tell you I don't believe for one minute this nonsense about a defective audio-video connection! What's more, I'm telling you that—"

  If Rohun was not precisely overjoyed by the visit from an officer in the Ara secret service, neither was he frightened. He had no mind to suffer fools gladly. Or at all, for that matter.

  He interrupted the visitor sharply. "You can believe what you want but if it doesn't please you to talk to me in a civilized tone, I'm going to have you thrown overboard! Please sit down over there."

  He offered Huxul the same seat which John Marshall had occupied just moments before.

  Huxul was hardly seated when, with a malicious grin, he asked, "And where is he now, your visitor who was just sitting in this chair a few minutes ago?"

  Rohun was not visibly disturbed by the question. "Huxul, I'm not an Ara! I'm a Galactic Trader! My ship is a world in itself. On board my ship, no one but the captain asks questions, and I'm the captain. And it would certainly never occur to me to ask a question as stupid and offensive as the one you just asked!"

  "I didn't mean it like that!" Huxul said hastily and with surprising friendliness. He had suddenly become another person entirely: polite, amiable and rather negligent about his duty. Rohun began to wonder.

  He had no inkling of John Marshall's psychobeamer. The instrument was trained on the Ara at full intensity, persuading him to consider his mission fulfilled and to be nothing but a polite conversationalist.

  The about-face had struck Rohun as positively uncanny, however, and John Marshall suddenly heard the Springer captain become energetic. "Huxul, would you please tell me why you've come here and what I'm being suspected of?"

  At that moment Marshall lowered the intensity of the suggestive force beamed at the Ara. The secret agent still had no idea that he was telling the whole truth and that he wasn't supposed to. Rohun listened intently and with interest, then he sat back comfortably, smiled in amusement and commented: "Your little social call doesn't seem at all so harmless to me now, Huxul! Yes, I remember this Ixt. A clever fellow, expert in the field of zoology. By the way, zoology is also my hobby. That's why I remember this Ixt so well. If I'm not mistaken, he boarded my ship on the third planet of Star J5457KL and we brought him directly to Tolimon. My dear Huxul, we galactic traders will do just about anything when there's a profit to be made and now and then our spacers will take on passengers. They pay for their voyage from one planet to another, of course. But Ixt was brought here a long time ago! What connection do I have with him now, Huxul?"