by Perry Rhodan
He inspected the spacesuit which he was wearing. He gave special attention to his helmet, which up to now he had worn loosely on his back like a hood. Tompetch watched his preparations with wonder.
"I always thought," he said uncertainly, "that in respect to gravity, atmospheric content and air pressure Wanderer was a planet quite tolerable for Terrans. Are you expecting something else, sir?"
"Certainly," Bell answered. "You can see that the surface has shrunk. Figure out for yourself what will happen to the air pressure when all the air molecules in a cubic centimeter of air are squeezed into a space half that."
"Lord—I hadn't thought of that," Tompetch admitted. "That means the gravitation would increase too, right?"
"It would," Bell rumbled, "if it weren't artificial. The master of Wanderer makes his own gravity. The little that comes from the mass of the planet itself can be ignored. It could be that there would be a noticeable effect but it would be slight all the same."
With a decisive tug Bell brought the helmet down over his head and attached it to his collar ring. "I'm going now," he then said, his voice ringing hollowly over the exterior loudspeaker of his suit. "Sit down by the receiver and see how well you can understand me. All clear?"
"Right, sir," said Tompetch. He stood still and thoughtful long after Bell had left for the airlock.
Reginald Bell had already seen on the vidscreen inside the spaceboat that they had landed in a region which It had modeled after a completely alien world. Reginald Bell had never seen such strange plants as those growing out of the ankle-high, fleshy grass around the Gazelle. Although he was not familiar with them, he saw that the plants were affected and distorted by the odd foreshortening effect which apparently had befallen the entire planet and twisted all life into grotesque shapes.
Bell walked toward a growth that looked something like an Earthly mulberry tree. The main trunk might have been circular and 30 centimeters in diameter under normal circumstances but now it was elliptic. The long axis of the ellipse was still 30 centimeters but now the short axis measured only 11 or 12. The tree's branches spread broadly to the right and to the left but from back to front they had been stunted to less than ½ their normal span.
Bell found the same true for other things. Not far from the Gazelle he found lying on the ground a stone as flat as a pancake. He lifted it and turned it at an angle of 90°. The flat surfaces of the pancake began to shrink while the edges became thicker. By the time the turn had been completed, the former edges had become the flat top and bottom surfaces while the former top and bottom had become the edges.
So the shrinking was determined by a definite direction. That direction, Bell quickly realized, must correspond with the north-south axis of the planet. It might have been by sheer chance but at that moment Bell had the impression that he could make use of the observation. It could have been the first step to a good idea but Bell was still playing with the stone and let it fade back into his subconscious. When he tried to remember it five minutes later, he found he had forgotten completely whatever idea he'd had.
He made a few experiments in communication with Lt. Tompetch. Even on the first try he saw that conditions were not at all normal. Although he was at most 50 meters from the spaceboat, he could understand Tompetch only with difficulty and Tompetch confirmed it from his side, complaining that the connection was 'miserable'. Bell stepped somewhat closer to the Gazelle and reception improved immediately. He stepped back a few meters and the reception grew worse until it faded out entirely when he had moved 100 meters away. He started to calculate since the matter interested him. Tompetch gave him a few figures concerning the transmitter power, as registered by a wattmeter on the receiver. Taking these figures into account, Bell found a noteworthy regularity. Symbolizing the distance of the transmitter from the receiver with r, under normal conditions the signal broadcast by an electromagnetic transmitter varied at a rate of 1/r2. If the transmitter were 20 meters away from the receiver, then only ¼ of the transmitting power would be received as would be if the transmitter were only 10 meters away, or half as far.
Here things were different. There was a functional relationship between transmitter power and relative distance but the figure was 1/r6. When the distance was doubled, the signal weakened at the receiving end to 1/64th. That was surprising. It could be explained only by assuming that there was something in the air which soaked up radiated energy. The phenomenon had a peculiar similarity with the disappearance of the motor energy. Reginald Bell tried to formulate a reasonable hypothesis that would explain these events but since he had too little information to work with, he was not successful. In a bad mood he made his way back to the spaceboat and in so doing walked past the pseudo-mulberry tree, whose trunk by this time had been compressed to eight centimeters.
He raised his arm and looked at the barometer, which along with other instruments had been built into the plastic material of his spacesuit. At the moment, air pressure measured 2.8 atmospheres.
• • •
For the first time Perry Rhodan was angered by the roaring laughter. While the Gazelle fell towards the park landscape below with the speed of an overloaded parachute, the telepathically transmitted laughter of the Wanderer-being resounded in his ears and drove him into white-hot rage. He whirled about—as though there were some exact direction from which the laughter came—and exploded in pure anger: "Stop it, you old fool! There isn't a blasted thing to laugh about!"
The laughter died in the same instant. Perry Rhodan didn't know if one could speak to It , the all but all-powerful lord of Wanderer, in this manner, but it was all the same to Rhodan. He had to get that laughter stopped; that alone was important.
He saw his companions staring at him. In the next moment he heard that distant and yet quite loud voice:
"Nervous, my friend?" The voice sounded curious and friendly. It did not care if it were called an old fool, then. "Were I in your place, I would be too. You are still 4,000 kilometers from the great hall and you have only 30 hours. How are you going to do it?"
Rhodan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he answered aloud, knowing that thoughts were best expressed when vocalized. "I don't have any idea. But you can count on this, old friend: I'll be there on time!"
The laughter thundered for a second time. "I'm amusing myself royally,"It continued. "I've never experienced a situation like this. I managed to get the better of some strange people who wanted to kidnap me into an alien time-plane but apparently doing so cost me quite a bit in Eiris ."
"Quite a bit in what? " demanded Rhodan.
"Eiris,"It answered readily. "That's what we called chronospatial stabilizing energy—when we still spoke with our mouths."
"Aha," said Rhodan, not understanding.
"Naturally I can replenish the energy,"It went on, "but since you and your friends are here, I don't have to. You are setting in motion everything necessary to bring my world back into normal space again."
Rhodan did not understand one word and this he freely admitted.
"You don't have to understand,"It answered in amusement. "Everything will happen by itself. It's enough that you're here."
At that moment, the Gazelle hit. There was a strong jolt, someone cried out in pain, a piece of plastic broke loudly somewhere—and then all was still again.
Rhodan had not even lost his balance. "There was another spacecraft that came here," he told It. "What do you know about it?"
"Hardly anything,"It answered. "The second vehicle is not in my plane. It has remained in normal space, along with its occupants."
"Does that mean they aren't here on this world?"
"Yes they are here indeed."It began to laugh again. "I could get angry when I think of the fun I'm missing because I'm unable to watch them as they try to find their way in this alien dimension!"
"Good heavens!" Rhodan exclaimed. "I wish I could understand you."
"Don't try to understand it,"It advised. "But remember, my friend, that you now hav
e only 30 hours left. Just 30 hours. If you don't want to die, you had better do something."
With that the connection was broken and Rhodan could no longer reach It. He had wanted to inquire about Nathan, who must also be somewhere on Wanderer.
He gave his seat a push and let it turn so that he could see his companions. "I know there isn't much point in it," he said with a forced smile, "but if we worked hard at it, we might yet succeed in changing the generator hookups."
He looked at John Marshall. Marshall was a telepath. He could read Rhodan's thoughts—even those saying that it was all useless and that they would never reach their goal,his goal, unless someone from outside helped them. Marshall returned the glance and winked. He did not look especially happy, either, but he understood there was no use in destroying all hope at once by making public what Rhodan was thinking.
But then Atlan spoke up. "Friend, I don't believe there would be much sense in our busying ourselves with the generators. We don't have the time to take on any such massive overhauls; we would be too late no matter what. The leap here from the Drusus cost us time and propulsive energy. We should rather consider how this loss came about. If we know that, then perhaps we could find a faster way to overcome our difficulties than would be possible by reconnecting the generators."
He looked attentively at Rhodan, clearly expecting an answer. He was more earnest than anyone had seen him in the previous 10 days.
"Perhaps," repeated Rhodan. "We can't depend on a perhaps. We have to do something, even if it seems senseless. Perhaps we could make an emergency switching..."
"Perhaps," Atlan interrupted mockingly. "You're repeating yourself, Administrator!"
Perry Rhodan gestured in irritation. "The devil with it! I just want to do something, that's all. Sitting around and pondering is not my style. But if you think you can find a solution that way, Admiral—no one will stop you!"
At that moment Ali el Jagat leaped out of his seat. Rhodan looked at him in surprise and saw that he was staring with an ashen face at the vidscreen. Rhodan followed his gaze and saw on the screen a strange figure appear between the trees. It wore medieval armor and carried a jousting shield on the left arm. The right hand carried a long spear. The figure sat on a horse, whose head and chest were also armored.
The figure stopped his horse before the Gazelle's hatch, lowered the lance and threw it with all his strength at the hatch cover. At the same time the exterior microphone picked up an angry voice:
"Who dares to enter the land of Count Llandrindod uninvited? Out with him! I shall make him atone for his impudence!"
And at the same time,It's laughter echoed hollowly as It began to amuse Itself over the incident.
Reginald Bell suddenly remembered the idea he'd had—. It came to him so unexpectedly that he dropped the tool he had been holding in his hand while working with Tompetch at rebuilding the antigravity generator. Tompetch straightened up from his stooped position and looked at Bell in surprise.
Bell slapped himself on the forehead. "What an idiot I've been!" he moaned. "How could I have forgotten?" Then he looked to Mike Tompetch. "Let that go," he ordered. "Quit and come with me. I know something better."
Tompetch obeyed in astonishment. Reginald Bell climbed through the narrow engine room passage forward to the control room. He opened the batch and pointed even before Tompetch could see what he meant on the vidscreen.
"There!" Bell cried. "Look at that and tell me what you think of it. I know it sounds crazy but what do you want to bet that we can get where we're going this way?"
Mike Tompetch looked at the vidscreen and tried to guess what Bell could have meant.
They had been in the engine room for half an hour and in that time the landscape had changed into something unbelievably grotesque. The bushes and trees were flat, as though a child had cut them out of a picture-book and stood them up. They stood close behind one another. The effect was of a photograph taken with a super telescopic lens.
At the upper edge of the picture Mike Tompetch saw a narrow red strip just under the red-glowing sky. It was distinguishable from the heavens only by a pulsating flickering. Tompetch had no idea what it was.
"Well, what do you think?" tell asked triumphantly.
"The foreshortening has increased," answered Tompetch, not knowing what else to say.
"So, it's really increased?" mocked Bell snidely. "Be careful that your brain doesn't shrink, too, Lieutenant. What do you see there at the edge of the picture?"
Tompetch swallowed. "I've been wondering that myself, sir."
"Then give up!" Bell told him. "That's the northern sea!"
"The northern sea?"
Reginald Bell nodded. "Right, the northern sea. We're lying not too far from the southern coast of this continent. How wide does the map say this continent is, by the way?"
Mike Tompetch remembered quickly. "2,500 kilometers, sir."
"Right". And how far would you say the northern coast is from us now, judging from the vidscreen, I mean?"
"Two to three kilometers, I'd say. No more than that."
"Yes, that's right. Two to three kilometers. What does that say about the foreshortening factor?"
"That it lies between 830 and 1,250," Tompetch answered after quickly figuring the ratio out in his head.
Reginald Bell agreed with that as well. "Now look to that flickering strip," he instructed, "while I explain something to you. I'm sure you'll see that it's getting closer."
Tompetch watched the vidscreen obediently while Reginald Bell began: "As you know, this system is in rotation. A hemisphere of a 5-dimensional rotation-figure possesses the odd tendency for foreshortening coordinate axes. A rotation takes place in a 5-dimensional continuum, so not all axes are involved with the foreshortening on each rotation, or, if they are, the relative scale of foreshortening changes from rotation to rotation.
"Apparently we have reached an especially favorable moment. The foreshortening ratio is now about 1:1,000. What is in reality a distance of 1,000 kilometers is for us only one single kilometer. Can you imagine what would happen if the ratio increases further? What if it reaches, oh, let's say 1:2,500,000?"
Tompetch gave a start. "That-that..." he stammered. He could not bring himself to say any more.
Reginald Bell completed the sentence for him. "That would mean this continent would be just one meter wide for us and that the distance from here to the southern coast of the north continent would be only two meters. We would need to make only three steps—one of them to cross a ditch 60 centimeters wide, which in reality is a sea 1,500 kilometers across."
Mike Tompetch stood awestruck. It was obvious that he could repeat the figures to himself but that he could not visualize the picture Bell had painted. Bell clapped him on the shoulder and said in a fatherly tone: "Close your mouth, Lieutenant. It isn't really that simple, of course. The air pressure would have grown to a few thousand atmospheres in the meantime and the air itself would feel like a gluey soup. We'll have to prepare for it. We'll need a small forcefield generator to protect ourselves against the terrible pressure because the spacesuits alone won't hold up to it, Come on—what are you waiting for? Let's get started!"
5/ WANDERERS ON A WEIRD WORLD
"Llandrindod!" Atlan exclaimed, laughing. "The old fighter! I'm going to..."
He rushed off. Perry Rhodan, who knew how It had populated its planet with peculiar figures out of the past of Earth and other worlds, followed him calmly and a little amused. The appearance of a medieval knight before an emergency-landed spacescout whose crew was struggling to find out the best way to connect an antigravity generator to the motors to find a way of supplying energy to the propulsion drive—wasn't that a situation to raise a smile even though the dangers threatening from outside were so large?
Atlan had long opened the hatch by the time Rhodan arrived. On Wanderer spaceships could be opened up in a casual fashion conditions on other worlds forbade; the inner and outer hatches could even be left open simult
aneously. Wanderer's atmosphere was identical to Earth's.
The Earl of Llandrindod had pulled his horse back a few steps as the hatch opened.
Atlan stayed in the hatchway. With a rumbling voice he spoke out in the same Old English Llandrindod used. "Who presumes to knock on my flying house? What manner of scoundrel would dare do such a thing?"
Rhodan was certain that the Earl of Llandrindod had never before in his life been called a scoundrel. He watched as the knight started, then raised his shield and lowered his lance.
"Villain!" thundered from behind the visor. "Attend thee! I shall teach you to call me a scoundrel! Defend yourself, you good-for-nothing wretch!"
His shield was up and his lance was down. He was about to spur his horse and ride towards Atlan but at that moment the Arkonide threw his arms into the air and began to laugh loudly. Llandrindod seemed to become uncertain. The shield sank a bit.
"Guye of Llandrindod!" Atlan roared, laughing. "What a fool you are! Or have the years taken so much of your sight with them you don't even recognize your best friend anymore?"
The knight raised his visor. Distrustful, narrowed eyes came into view. They took stock of the Arkonide, who must have seemed dressed like a fool or a jester by medieval standards, and then the first spark of recognition lit up.
"God save me!" cried Llandrindod. "If you're Peyrefitte of Sherwood, my friend, then you're dressed like a gypsy! Are you really Sherwood?"
Atlan stepped down from the hatch. "That I am!" he assured him. "Climb down from your mount and greet me like a man greets a friend!"
Llandrindod let his shield and lance fall, slid down from his horse and came towards the Arkonide with stiff, slow steps. The closer he came, the more certain he was that it was really his friend before him. The
steps grew longer and he finally stumbled, fortunately falling right into the Arkonide's arms.
