Thora's Sacrifice

by Perry Rhodan

  "Why my fault?" he asked defensively, unable to stifle a feeling of guilt.

  "Because you requested Thora to move out of the camera's angle and insisted on confronting the robot Brain alone."

  The intercom clicked again. "General, the robot Brain wishes to talk to you again. Thora is waiting for you in the Command Center."

  Deringhouse took this as a good omen. "Come with me, Ishy, and keep an eye on Thora. I'm going to let her conduct the negotiations but let me know if the haggling over the 100 spaceships becomes too strenuous for her so that I can take over. —What's the matter with you?"

  Ishy Matsu's face had suddenly turned pale on her way to the Command Center. The moment Deringhouse asked his question he realized that the girl had received a new telepathic message. Her contact with the brains of the strangers lasted only a few seconds and during that time her face looked like a mask.

  Now that she turned to Deringhouse again there was no sign of her extrasensory perception. "Some Aras have landed on Mutral. They've come in connection with our arrival. I'm sorry I couldn't find out any more."

  "Positive or negative?" Deringhouse inquired although he could guess the answer.

  "Negative. I've seldom encountered such hateful thoughts as in this last contact. Aras? Aren't they the medical experts of the Galaxy... ingenious scientists in the field of pharmacy?" She was more talking to herself than asking her companion.

  Deringhouse replied in an emphatic tone: "But the Aras never recognize their moral duties as physicians. They are descendants of the Arkonide race and just as depraved plus with a criminal bent."

  They had reached the hatch to the Command Center, which put an end to their conversation. Deringhouse couldn't remember when he had entered into negotiations with such terrible misgivings.

  He was unable to brush off the thought of the unintelligible message from Aralon which had been received by the hyper-radio station on Grautier. Nevertheless he made a cheerful face as he greeted Thora and sat down next to her in front of the picture screen.

  As usual Ishy Matsu remained unobtrusively in the background. She turned her head to the side so that nobody could observe her face and she concentrated her telepathic powers in order to intensify the extremely weak contact in an effort to read the thoughts more clearly. However she soon lost the contact again which made it more obvious to her that the planet itself stood as an obstacle between her and the elusive persons.

  As Deringhouse sat in anticipation before the picture screen he gazed at Thora. Her slightly reddened face betrayed her inner tension. Then he studied her fetching uniform which distinguished her as battleship commander of Arkon.

  Thora, heir of the Arkonide Zoltral dynasty, endeavored to gain the respect of the Robot Regent with her impressive uniform. But was it possible to awe a positronic switchbox covering something like 10,000 square kilometers?

  With the insignia of her ancestral clan on her left shoulder patch, she sat erect and conscious of her past as a proud Arkonide as she waited for her encounter with the robot Brain. She had lowered her eyes and thus failed to notice Deringhouse's admiring glance. He began to doubt again the diagnosis of all the physicians who had been consulted in her case. The regeneration of her physical and mental powers and the so obviously excellent state of her health could, in his opinion, hardly represent a last flicker of life's dying flame.

  Perhaps she didn't suffer from that form of leukemia or from the effects of the sarcoma F Arkon? Or had the task that gave new meaning and importance to her life created a medical miracle?

  Deringhouse heard some whispering. He looked around and saw Pasgin, Olavson and Merck standing together talking apparently about Thora. The faces of the three men also reflected amazement and they were greatly pleased that Thora looked so fresh and healthy as she concentrated on the imminent confrontation.

  Suddenly the screen erupted in a splash of psychedelic colors preceding the familiar picture of the metallic dome and the most important edifice of the positronic mammoth.

  The automaton stated its position squarely: "Terra's offer is unacceptable. Under certain conditions the Great Empire will consider putting 40 light and 30 heavy cruisers of the latest type at your disposal in addition to 20 warships with a sphere 500 meters in diameter as well as 10 super-battleships for immediate delivery. In return the Great Empire demands the assignment to its authority of 1,000 Terranian spaceship commanders, 1,000 ranking officers, 2,000 specialists for impulse-propulsion systems, impulse- and disintegrator-weapons, and 5,000 officers of the Terranian Spacefleet with training in jobs to be specified later."

  Cool and uncompromising, Thora, Princess of Zoltral and wife of Perry Rhodan, challenged the Regent in a sharp tone: "And what is the precise meaning of your phrase Assignment to the Authority of the Great Empire? "

  "The situation at the blockade front makes it necessary for the Great Empire to man the most important positions on our warships with Terranians."

  "What will be the position of a Terranian Spacefleet commander after he's assigned to a heavy Arkonide cruiser, Regent?" Thora inquired unimpressed.

  Deringhouse, sitting at her side, was unable to hold back his admiration for Thora's majestic countenance. Spontaneously, he put his hand on hers and pressed it lightly. Gratified by his mute support for her conduct of the discussion, she responded with a slight nod of her head.

  "Terranian commanders will serve as First Officers on our warships, Thora of Zoltral!" the automaton replied.

  "These are conditions which I find totally unacceptable. It would be contrary to the nature of a Terran to recognize a robot as his superior."

  The voice of the positronic mammoth seemed to have acquired a jeering undertone as it replied: "This assertion lacks any proof. The Great Empire is in possession of studies concerning the mentality of Terrans which refute such interpretations as yours."

  "With this answer the Regent revealed for the first time that he had conducted such research on human beings of Earth as must have led to certain death for its victims.

  "I don't intend to dwell on such unessential points," Thora brushed his repugnant arguments off with the greatest of ease. "However we're prepared to consider a firm agreement putting our commanders in sole charge of Arkonide warships."

  The silence which followed became oppressive. Thora and Deringhouse didn't dare look at each other but she had no intention of giving the automaton a breathing spell to consult the military intelligence backlog of its computers concerning her proposal. Therefore she quickly demanded: "Before we can continue any further debate of the subject, we must insist that you countermand your orders which prevent the free movement of Solar Imperium representatives, Regent!"

  "Permission to start will not be granted, Thora of Zoltral..."

  "I'm Thora Rhodan, Regent!" Thora dressed him down in a huff.

  At the same moment the robot Brain broke off the connection.

  "I acted too impetuously," Thora admitted in dismay.

  Deringhouse shook his head and denied it, saying: "It doesn't make much difference if the negotiations break down 10 minutes earlier or later. Now we'll have to make the Regent believe that we're stupid enough to make an attempt to start. It wouldn't be much of a bet that it'll be an exercise in futility. OK, Pasgin, Olavson! It isn't every day that a commander of the Solar Spacefleet is willing to make a fool of himself. Let's show this mechanical monster and his sleepy-headed subordinates how weak the Burma is!"

  Joe Pasgin and Hendrik Olavson sat down in the pilot seats and announced the start over the intercom. The computer brain of the Burma responded instantaneously and delivered the necessary data for the start to all instruments, simultaneously evaluating Olavson's starting operations.

  Control lamps flickered and two warning whistles alerted the entire ship. The simmering growl of the stepped-up machinery rose to a shrill howl in a cacophony with the thumping of the propulsion engines in the equatorial bulge that now was transformed into a strident hissing.


  "Start with normal thrust!" Pasgin called to his copilot.

  Normal thrust was the performance minimum valid for every regular ship in the class of the Burma.

  The ship vibrated slightly but failed to budge. Powerful forces held it down—a potent suction field generated by projectors located under the ice kept the light cruiser in invisible chains.

  In answer to Deringhouse's question the officer at the control panel reported: "The suction field was twice as strong as our normal thrust, General, but it didn't react particularly fast."

  "Alright! Hold attempt to start! Wait two minutes and apply an instant thrust at normal level. Men, we must make another try! I believe that the automaton will be waiting for us to call Perry Rhodan for help but we won't give him that pleasure."

  Olavson pulled the main lever back to the zero mark. When he abruptly stepped it up again for the second start, the Burma jumped up like a bouncing rubber ball but before it reached the height of 100 meters the suction field caught up with it by pitting twice the energy against its presumable burst of maximum power. The Burma was not merely brought to a halt but was forced to come down again in a landing which could be handled by its telescopic legs only with great difficulty.

  With the exception of Thora and Deringhouse, whose spirit was boosted by the effort, the crew had a sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach.

  The placidity of Mutral's Arkonide commander seemed to have been disturbed by the demonstration. He announced over the telecom that he had sent a robot commando team to the Burma to investigate the incident.

  Thora swiftly went before the telecom screen. "Taa-Rell, I believe you know me!"

  The Arkonide with the puffy face stared at the proud woman in the uniform of a commander. "Milady..." he stuttered and tried to make a bow.

  "Taa-Rell!" she rebuked him in a brittle voice. "Call off your robot commandos at once!"

  The Arkonide—somewhere in a subterranean fortress squirmed. "Milady, the Great Coordinator has given me his orders. I'm not in a position to withdraw the commandos since the robots have been put under the direction of the Regent by their programs. I beg you a thousand times..."

  With an impulsive gesture Thora cut off the connection. She laughed bitterly and cried out in sorrow: "Poor Great Empire!"

  Big Alden, the fire-control officer, of the Burma, alerted them over the telecom: "50 heavy fighter robots coming out of the ice. What are your orders, General?"

  Joe Pasgin focused on the formation of fighting machines that advanced across the cracking ice. The robots leaped over meter-wide crevices as if they were lightweights instead of tons of steel, Their armor which was able to withstand 30,000° and was impervious to the lowest temperatures, shone in the glaring light of the lamps.

  "The Robot Regent is sending his minions aboard!" Pasgin shouted to the fire-control officer of his ship. Big Alden acknowledged the news with a bloody curse.

  Deringhouse suddenly felt that someone sought his attention. He turned around and saw Ishy Matsu, whose presence he had forgotten, giving him a sign that she was anxious to speak to him. However the situation required his immediate attention and he was unable to follow her urgent request.

  Without wasting his time he issued the warning: "Alert all robots! Put 20 outside airlock three and 30 more machines to back them up. All others to stand by for action. Only three of the Arkonide robots will be permitted to come aboard." He switched off and added: "I'll be a son of a gun if I invite that gang of trouble!"

  The rangefinder at the observation screen indicated that the 50 fighter robots had reached the protective energy shield of the Burma.

  "Let no more than three of them pass!" Deringhouse ordered. "Pasgin, watch out that the robots are prevented from suddenly lunging forward. I don't trust these machines. I've had too much experience with them in the past."

  He took the first opportunity to glance at Ishy Matsu again. Her gestures conveyed her impatience. "Come at once!" she seemed to implore him.

  Deringhouse made his decisions. "Pasgin, take over! I'll go to the airlock. No, I won't need anybody to accompany me, Thora, I must urge you not to leave the Command Center under any circumstances. I'll explain later."

  He sprouted a rapid fire of commands, a clear indication of the seriousness with which he regarded the imminent visit of the Arkonide robots.

  Since the state of alarm was in force the Command Center was in direct communication with all departments of the light cruiser so that every man aboard had heard Deringhouse's instructions.

  As the general passed Ishy Matsu on his way to leave the Command Center he said casually: "Hi, Ishy! Would you mind coming with me? I've got a little job for you."

  As soon as the door was closed behind them he sprung his question: "What's going on?"

  Ishy's lovely face looked pale despite her Oriental complexion. "The robot commando has orders to seize you and Thora by force and to take you away from the ship."

  This assertion seemed so horrendous to Deringhouse that he asked her sceptically and full of consternation: "Where did you get that, Ishy?"

  The telepathic girl remained firm. "When Thora talked to the commander of the fortress I received for the first time clear impulses. The Aras have come to assist Taa-Rell. They've been instructed by the Robot Regent to brainwash you or Thora and to interrogate you about the position of Terra."

  Big Alden, the fire-control officer of the Burma, lent some support to Ishy's claims. "Gen. Deringhouse!" his voice blared from the loudspeakers in the corridor. "All armed forces on Mutral have been mobilized against us!"

  At the same moment an inferno of fire broke out around the little Burma from all directions. Lightning-fast energy shafts, some as large as 50 meters, smashed the protective shield of the Burma on the first impact.

  That the Burma didn't perish in the white-hot energy explosion was due only to the brief duration of the hail of fire which was not directed at the ship itself but only at the protective shield. However the Burma was no longer the same ship as before.

  Deringhouse ran back to the Command Center and heard the fire-control officer shout from the loudspeakers: "All weapons inoperative! Barrels completely deformed!"

  The general, who had missed witnessing the disaster with his own eyes, couldn't understand why the Burma suddenly heeled over to the side.

  The power generators and transformers inside the ship began to rumble and the engines whined.

  The light-controlled hatch flew open and Deringhouse darted over to Hendrik Olavson. He knocked the control lever out of the pilot's hand and said in a calm voice as if he had a whole week to make the next decision: "Don't be so hasty, gentlemen!"

  Then he called into the mike of the telecom: "Gen. Deringhouse speaking! Do not open airlock 3! Inspect damage and report to your officers. Activate work-robots!" And to fire control officer Alden, who had no weapons left to fire, he added the message: "Report to the Command Center for a special task!"

  "Olavson, what makes the Burma list like that?"

  "They must have shot away some of our telescopic supports," the young lieutenant replied in helpless fury.

  "I take it that there was no direct attack on our ship."

  "No sir. They had only one aim in mind. They wanted to annihilate our defense shield so the robots can get through and this our big friends have accomplished."

  "For heaven's sake, Olavson, did that flash in the pan paralyze you? Why don't you step up the antigravitators to level out the Burma again?" Deringhouse was furious.

  "Propulsion engines four, seven and eleven have been knocked out too, General!"

  "Too? What else? The antigravitators?"

  There was a signal from the telecom and the puffy face of the Arkonide commander appeared again. Thora hadn't left her chair and thus faced the commander once more.

  "Milady," The Arkonide said subserviently, "I beg you not to resist the boarding of your ship by our robots. I implore you and your general to put on spacesuits and let the robots ac
company you to my place for a conference. These measures have to be taken on behalf of the Great Coordinator, Milady!" The last words sounded like an anguished cry.

  "What does the Robot Brain expect us to do?" Thora asked in a trenchant voice and then accused him with a flushed face and flashing eyes: "You're lying to me! What do you intend to do to the general and me? I, Thora of Zoltral, demand the truth from you, Arkonide!"

  Good heavens, Deringhouse thought, more in doubt than ever, Thora is as healthy as anybody around here! She's getting younger every minute as if the life-prolonging serum were just beginning to take effect!

  Taa-Rell was stunned by Thora's accusation. His dilemma was reflected in his pasty face. But before he could open his mouth for a reply, the telecom was turned off by somebody else who had remained invisible in his room.

  Thora looked at Deringhouse. "What are our chances?" she asked calmly; her voice had regained its old vigor. She was able to smile despite the situation fraught with danger. With inimitable grace she stroked back a strand of hair from her forehead.

  "I've survived worse situations than this," Deringhouse evaded her probing question.

  "So it looks pretty bad..." She was interrupted by the telecom's report: "The antigravitators are functioning again!"

  Thora jumped up. She seemed to burst with energy and determination. Her face showed a vivacious color and the blood was flowing strongly through her hands, which had looked so transparent on Venus.

  Hendrik Olavson succeeded in restoring the Burma to a level position again, which was quite a feat considering that one-third of the telescopic supports were missing.

  "Propulsion engines four and eleven are back in operation," an officer announced from the ring of engines around the vessel. "Engine seven is beyond repair."

  "Deringhouse..." Thora put her hand on his arm, "...if the Robot Brain has any respect for a human being, it must be my husband!"

  The time had come to tell her the truth. "It was our mistake to assume this, Thora. The mammoth Brain was constructed by the Arkonide scientists for the exclusive purpose of preserving the Empire of Arkon and has been programmed accordingly. The ethical concept of friendship is and will remain alien to it because it can't act contrary to its program. Such a decision would simply be outside the scope of a positronic brain, Thora. You and I have been summoned by Taa-Rell to undergo the brainwashing by the Aras. The automaton on Arkon 3 considers the verification of Terra's position of paramount importance. Despite the desperate situation at the overlap-zone it contemplates the risk of a massive attack on the Solar Imperium!"