by Perry Rhodan
"Very well done, my little knave!" He bent down and patted Pucky's fur. "In their merriment the people of Trulan will forget to search for us."
"But they won't forget our ship," said Rhodan, sobering, and he turned his attention to the remote control device. "It's time we worried about our safety. If we give Glogol a chance to recover he can block our escape—in spite of his present embarrassment. I just picked up the thoughts of an onlooker there and it seems he is wearing his servants pants. Poor fellow."
"Who, the servant?" asked Count Rodrigo.
"No, I mean Glogol. No more stripes on his pants."
Marshall grinned.
Rhodan adjusted a few little wheels and indicators on the small box, which had a needle-thin antenna. Then he turned it toward the spaceport and manipulated a lever that was movable in any direction because of its ball-socket mounting. The small directional viewscreen remained dark because it was not useful for such a short distance.
"Won't they chase after the ship if it takes off suddenly?" asked Marshall anxiously. "We can't get on board before they'll be on top of us."
Rhodan turned to Laury. "Give me the serum flask, Laury. We're going to be moving fast and I don't want you to lose it."
He took the small vial and examined it for a moment with interest. Only then did he answer Marshall. "You're right, John. As soon as our ship lands we have to try to get inside and take off quickly. The police will chase it over here. It might be a good idea to pull a diversion stunt. Let's see what happens."
The minutes ticked away. The four humans with Pucky sat there in their hiding place and stared up at the sky, which was taking on the first shades of darkness. It wouldn't be long before it was night. If they could wait that long...
The Koos-Nor appeared over the edge of the city. With a moderate speed it flew along close above the last outlying manor houses and held a course straight toward the patch of forest. Rhodan could make out clearly the three or four flashing points of light that shot laterally toward it and attempted to attack it.
"I thought so," he murmured. "Pucky! Jump into the Koos-Nor and report what you see from there. I'll steer the ship according to your directions. Get it?"
"You bet!" returned the mouse-beaver—and dematerialized.
Count Rodrigo stared dumbfounded at the empty spot and drew closer to Laury. Telepathy and teleportation continued to be incomprehensible magic mischief to him, no matter how hard everyone tried to explain it.
I'm in the control room. Defense screen is on. The Aras are attacking. Pucky made a slight pause and then continued: I also turned on the radio receiver. The Inspector has ordered the two cruisers to get into the action. The Koos-Nor is to be destroyed. What should I do?
Rhodan moved the guide lever of his remote control box. Marshall and Laury saw the ship curve sharply away. Then it hurtled with a tremendous acceleration toward the setting sun.
"Tell me when you come in sight of the ocean, Pucky. And whatever happens, stay inside the ship. You will be in no danger."
Rhodan had spoken aloud without realizing it, which was helpful to the non-telepathic Count. But Pucky's answer returned soundlessly again, which was only perceivable to Rhodan, Marshall and Laury.
Danger...? What in the heck is that?
Rhodan smiled briefly but sobered quickly. He followed the flight of the Ara ships, which also raced toward the setting sun. They would be in for a surprise, he determined.
Within two minutes, Pucky was heard from again: The ocean is under me, Boss!
"Good!" Rhodan answered. "You will now peel gracefully off your course, then simply make a crash dive into the water and disappear. Buckle yourself in tight so that you don't get hurt. Okay—in exactly 10 seconds." Although he spoke aloud again, the message was telepathed.
Pucky didn't give any direct answer but Rhodan was able to tell by his thoughts that he understood and was following instructions. The remote control box came into action again. More than 120 miles distant, the Koos-Nor responded to the slightest impulse. It curved almost vertically upward, then remained hanging motionlessly in the air for a moment—whereupon it dropped like a stone into the deeps.
To any observer it had to appear as though the propulsion and control systems had failed. And there were certain eyes that followed the event attentively. Only half a minute later, Glogol knew that the yacht, with the pilot on board, had crashed into the sea. And thus the false inspector's escape route had been cut off. He was still somewhere in the city.
Trulan was hermetically sealed off. No one was permitted to leave the city until further notice. A second dragnet search was begun, this time more intensively than before.
All agents and smugglers in the ranks of the Galactic Traders were looking ahead to very uncertain times.
5/ "THIS CRAZY PLANET!"
As the Koos-Nor fell, Pucky became weightless.
He was tightly strapped into the pilot's seat. This manoeuvre of letting a spaceship fall into the ocean waters wasn't new. It was not dangerous for the passengers as long as the ship remained leak-proof.
Then the plunging ship hit the surface of the water. The inertial shock absorbers reduced the shock of the impact to zero inside the vessel.
Now she's sinking under! Pucky reported to Rhodan. He watched the activated viewscreens, in which the initial bright green of the water became darker. Then finally the screens went completely black. I must be pretty deep already.
I'll bring you to a stop, came Rhodan's answer, so that the pressure won't be too great. Incidentally, your pursuers have disappeared. If you want to, you can come back to us now.
Can't I hang around a while longer? In the woods there we're cut off from the outside world but here I've got the radio receiver. I can spy on what kind of assignments Glogol is handing out and what kind of grief they're trying to cook up for us.
Imperceptibly, Rhodan hesitated, but then he thought back: Okay, Pucky, but I want you back here in half an hour.
Pucky gave free rein to his incisor tooth and screened his mind. He unstrapped himself and hopped happily into the passageway in order to find the ship's pantry.
Even a mouse-beaver's tummy occasionally required sustenance.
The radio receiver was on full blast. Reports from the search parties were coming through in an unbroken stream. A smugglers' nest had been uncovered but the criminals had escaped without being identified. It was further confirmed that a number of Arkon battleships had been sent to the area and had now set up a blockade around Tolimon. This measure seemed to be superfluous at the moment, since the false inspector's ship had been seen to crash into the sea. At least they knew that the impostor was not inside the yacht He and his strange servant must still be somewhere in Trulan.
Pucky gained three inches of stature when he was also mentioned in the announcements.
But then a thought occurred to him: why not convince this Glogol and the Tolimonites once and for all that he and Rhodan were still present in the city? That would serve to concentrate the search in Trulan more than ever—and thus narrow down the area of danger. Then Rhodan could wait at his leisure where he was, until it became completely dark.
He didn't think it was necessary to make Rhodan aware of his decision and he made a jump toward Trulan. That about 250 fathoms of water lay between him and the surface didn't bother him in the least.
Pucky rematerialized in Marshall's former hideout in the slum area because he could visualize the wretched attic room most clearly. Nothing had changed and it seemed that the dead Frogh was the only creature who had been there besides himself.
The mouse-beaver went to the window and stared down into the city. The streets were unusually deserted looking, except for rushing police cars which were disgorging legions of uniformed search commandos, who swiftly disappeared into the houses. One would assume that not even a mouse could escape them.
Pucky concentrated on one of the main plaza-type pedestrian malls about half a mile distant—and made his jump. Teleportati
on was a unique and wonderful, process. You thought of your target or goal, concentrated on it, dematerialized and covered the intervening distance without any passage of time. Then rematerialized at your goal.
And so it was with Pucky.
Naturally this jump was fraught with considerable risk. There wasn't any danger at all of rematerializing inside solid objects but if one returned to normal space in the midst of enemies and if they reacted quickly enough...
It was lucky for the mouse-beaver that in his case they did not do so.
Pucky appeared almost in the center of the plaza and found himself surrounded by a crowd of civilians who were all staring in a certain direction. Military troops patrolled the place with fire-ready weapons in their hands. In the wide main streets, police cars raced with open sirens and drove pedestrians into the entranceways of the houses.
Pucky looked carefully around. He encountered astonished stares of people in whom comprehension was slowly dawning. Evidently his picture had been broadcast everywhere along with that of the 'Arkonide'.
Pucky began to run when the first few fingers were pointed at him. Then all hell broke loose.
The people simply ran after him, stammering words at him and falling over obstacles in their path. It was not easy for Pucky to escape his pursuers with his short legs, especially now that the police had been attracted and wanted to determine the cause of the confusion.
"The fake inspector's servant!" a man shouted hoarsely and ran into a policeman, for which another officer held him and prevented him from grasping the fugitive. While the situation was being explained, Pucky reached the edge of the plaza.
The shouts of the citizens spread through the crowd. The military took over immediately. The entire section of the city was blocked off and systematic search begun.
Pucky wanted to avoid making a disappearance right in plain view of the Tolimonites. It had to appear as though he had taken refuge in one of the houses. Of course if it was only a matter of a few yards, short jumps might not attract attention.
He found an opening and ran straight across the street between traveling vehicles and past excited policemen. Before anyone could catch their wits, he reached the fronts of the houses.
Now he had time.
In a slow and dignified manner, he waddled back and forth just as though the entire pursuit were a matter of complete indifference. Within a matter of seconds, however, he was rediscovered. Weapons bristled into evidence and were aimed at him. Shouts rang out; there were yells of commandos. One officer approached him on the run.
Pucky made an elegant turn to his left and disappeared into a wide portal. When he was out of sight, he teleported to the roof of the building. From here he could use his telepathy to observe the success of his action. He crept cautiously to the edge of the flat roof and looked down.
The street in front of the entrance looked like a military training ground.
The news of his appearance must have spread like wildfire because now an open car turned a comer coming from the plaza and swiftly approached. Brakes squealed and then the Inspector got out.
Glogol had located a spare pair of trousers, which lent him the colorfully magnificent appearance of an admiral of the Arkonide spacefleet. Brandishing his raygun, he made a path for himself through the crowd and reached the officer in charge of the search. Pucky could 'hear' every word being spoken.
"The servant of the false inspector, you say? Where is he?"
"He escaped into this house. My men are searching it."
"Does it have rear exits?"
"They're already covered."
Glogol cleared his throat. "Advise me when you catch the fellow. I wish to interrogate him personally."
"We'll corner him, sir, because he can't be far. The eye witnesses report that he's an awkward walker. He's some kind of semi-intelligent animal, who was in the zoo earlier, and..."
The officer didn't get any further. As though by magic, his uniform hat crammed down over his face and left him in the dark. Glogol observed this feat of sorcery of his subordinate, for which he had no explanation at the moment. Then he recalled his own experience with his trousers. He looked carefully about him, holstered his gun and used both hands to secure his pants in their present position.
On this crazy planet it seemed that anything was possible.
"Stop this foolishness and chase down that rogue!" he said with amazing calmness. He climbed into the waiting car and sank into the upholstery with a feeling of relief. Now nothing could happen to him. "And don't forget: I want him alive!"
The car pulled away.
The officer removed his hat to straighten it out. He examined it for a few moments, shaking his head and then put it on again. Whereupon he stormed into the suspected house in order to spur his men on to greater efforts.
One thing was certain in any case: the quarry had to be somewhere in the vicinity.
And he would be found!
• • •
Rhodan looked at his watch. He furrowed his brow. "It's time that Pucky was showing up. The half-hour has passed. In two hours it will be dark."
"He wanted to monitor the radio," Marshall suggested. "So its not surprising if he screens his mind and forgets what time it is."
All about them it was still. Not a person was visible on the fields and meadows. Police patrols which had been reconnoitering back and forth over by the outlying villas suddenly disappeared in the direction of the downtown area. They marched off in a systematic manner and turned their backs on the patch of forest.
"They really seem to think we're still in Trulan," murmured Rhodan with some relief.
Marshall closed his eyes and placed his mind in a 'receiving mode'. It was not an easy task to crystallize and understand individual impulses in the confusion of thoughts storming in upon him. But he succeeded.
"There are new directives!" he whispered, as though to himself. "One of the fugitives has been seen in one of the main plazas downtown." Suddenly, Marshall opened his eyes in astonishment and looked at Rhodan. "The servant of the false inspector!"
Rhodan let out a groan. "Pucky! Who else? His figure is unmistakable and can't be confused with anything."
"Except another mouse-beaver," said Marshall. "Other than Pucky the only other mouse-beavers are on Vagabond, the planet of the dying sun. So it has to be Pucky. He's left the Koos-Nor and is starting monkey business again." Rhodan frowned. "Well, you wait till he gets back here and I'll give him a piece of my mind. After all...!"
"Yes?" chirped Pucky, somewhat conscience-stricken, and he shrank back when Rhodan jerked around toward him. "After all, I just..."
"What have you just, Puck?" It was bad news when Rhodan shortened his name like that. "Come on, speak up! Why can't you stick to my instructions?"
"You told me once that doing something unauthorized could be forgiven if I had a good reason and made something good come of it." "Oh I did, did I? So what? How does that change the fact that you let yourself be seen in Trulan, right in the middle of town, and attracted more police attention to us?"
"On the contrary, Chief. I've attracted them to a spot where we aren't It's in one of the main plazas and..."
"Alright, alright!" Rhodan ended the argument because he already perceived the strategy. "Nevertheless I want you to advise me in the future of your separate undertakings. —So what is the result of your efforts?"
"They've seen me in the city and are searching through every house. Nobody is thinking about these woods." Rhodan looked across to the edge of the city. No one was to be seen there now. The search commandos were probably on their way to the center of town.
He nodded to Pucky. "Alright, my friend. I'll close one eye."
"Why not both of them?" suggested Pucky. Rhodan grinned and sat down again. "Let's wait till it's dark."
• • •
Flight operations were considerably more difficult after sundown. There were still a few small units which flew over the outlying areas of Trulan and lighted
the landscape under them with their probing searchlights. But at greater altitudes the lights of larger airships were seen blinking here and there.
Undoubtedly the Empire's auxiliary fleet was farther out in space in order to put a final stop to any fugitive breaking through the blockade below.
Rhodan took this into consideration when, toward midnight, he took out the remote control box and turned it on.
Count Rodrigo was asleep. Beside him lay Laury, also sleeping. The two seemed to suit each other, thought Rhodan fleetingly, but they were worlds apart. What would Rodrigo think of the Earth of the 21st century? Would he be able to adjust himself to it?
Marshall stirred. He lay with his back supported by a tree trunk. In his lap was Pucky, who murmured something unintelligible in a borderland of sleep, then whistled softly and rolled into a ball again.
Rhodan smiled. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and he could make out details quite well. The dials of the remote control gear glimmered faintly. Here he sat now with his people on an alien planet in the midst of a pack of hostile inhabitants, practically weaponless, and with his sole resource a luxury yacht, down in the depths of the sea.
But he possessed a group of confederates who were worth more than any weapons. He had Pucky, a three-ply parapsychic with a heart of gold; Marshall, a telepath and his friend; Laury—well, at the moment he couldn't depend on her completely but nevertheless she had procured the serum for him; and finally there was still this Count Rodrigo de Berceo, who was very good with a sword.
Soundlessly the luxury yacht came down through the overhead roof of foliage and landed softly in the small clearing. Rhodan listened in all directions, seeking contact with any possible foreign thought-impulses in the vicinity. But no matter how hard he searched, he detected nothing. No one had noticed the event.
He let his companions continue sleeping and went to the small ship, which gave the impression of a giant whale here in the clearing. Its silvery metal hull shimmered in the light of the distant stars. It was wet, with sea-water.
