by Perry Rhodan
Rhodan had considered it prudent to, conduct the investigations as unobtrusively as possible. In view of events on Mirsal 3 and the disappearance of the Mirsal 2 spaceship without a trace it had been quite clearly demonstrated that even the mightiest weapons of the Drusus and the Arc-Koor were powerless to affect the enemy. The latter ship was commanded by Talamon who had been placed under his orders by the Regent of Arkon.
So it wasn't a question of a show of force. There was no one there—no physical target against which one might expend military power. The enemy possessed a means of making a sheer mockery out of any and all forms of destructive energy.
The only alternative, therefore, was more or less a kamikaze type of assignment which Rhodan had often used with good effect.
Participants in the present assignment were the three people involved in the unusual report that Rhodan was looking at, people who at this moment were millions of miles away in the Resaz-to-Fillinan bus, looking about them in astonishment for their fellow passengers.
Fellmer Lloyd was a member of the small taskforce because he was one of the few mutants who could detect the presence of the invisible enemy by means of his parapsychic gifts. Rosita Perez had been assigned as a psychologist because any mission to an unknown world required a careful study of the inhabitants' mentality. And finally Marcel Rous was with them because he had already had some contact and experience with the unknown opponent—aside from the fact that he also had to make a few amends for disobeying orders.
So it was that Rhodan deduced from the report that these three had just come in contact with the enemy. The indications were obvious and they were similar to the signal fading that had been observed when the Mirsal 2 rocketship had disappeared. The basic difference was that in the rocket's case the signals had finally faded entirely, whereas in the case of Lloyd, Rosita and Rous the output from their surgically installed micro-transmitters had regained normal signal strength after only a momentary attenuation.
So it was to be presumed that the three agents had come through the danger intact. Their signals were distinctive for each one and operated continuously, so all three were definitely accounted for. In addition to the micro-transmitters they were also equipped with a minicom device which was similar to the big hypercom communicators that it could cover a considerable distance. Rous would be calling in as soon as the situation permitted.
The Gazelle type scoutship in which the three had landed on Mirsal 2 was also equipped with a 'body transmitter', just like the three agents. If the enemy were not completely outclassed by Earthly and Arkonide technology—if he didn't have to rack his brains too much in order to comprehend their technical devices—then the Gazelle that Rhodan had ordered to be left behind at the settlement would be a welcome object of study. The foe would steal it away and thus the Gazelle's transmitter would be able to tell them where it had been taken.
Much could be gained by the maneuver because until now nobody on board the Drusus or the Arc-Koor had any idea where or in what sector of the galaxy these Unknowns were to be found.
• • •
The initial shock of alarm had passed.
"Do you sense anything close by?" asked Rous.
Lloyd shook his head. "Nothing," he replied flatly. "Absolutely nothing."
Rous got up and worked himself into the narrow driver's seat. "Then let's try to keep going in this thing."
Cautiously he experimented with some of the levers, knobs and pedals that were installed in the floorboard, on the dashboard and on the partition between the engine hood and the passenger cabin. The motor, which had died out for lack of gas feeding, now came clattering to life again. It had a gasoline smell—an actual, Earthly odor of automobile gas.
Rous released the brake and pressed the accelerator. The bus made a startling lurch forward and the motor died. Rous tried another gear and succeeded. The heavy vehicle began to move along the highway, making deep rumbling sounds. Rous had to try a few fresh starts because the gear-shifting to higher speeds was not clearly indicated.
But finally he mastered the contraption. The bus roared noisily along toward the city at an approximate speed of 30 miles per hour.
Marcel had the necessary time and leisure to figure out a plan. The road was completely free of all traffic. There was no one in front of him that he had to watch out for. Fellmer Lloyd had fallen back into his customary lethargy in order to 'listen' for alien brain wave patterns.
Rous asked himself: what do we do in Fillinan? Answer: we must try to uncover some clue concerning the invisible enemy. And what makes you think that it will be any easier in Fillinan than it has been in any of the empty villages we have passed through?
Nothing.
At least there was one small clue: apparently the Unknowns who were operating here were not enemies of Terranians—because so far they had not attacked them whereas they were definitely after the people of Mirsal 3, who had all disappeared from the surface of their world with only one exception. And certainly they were enemies of the inhabitants of Mirsal 2, who were threatened with the same fate. So the Unknowns had agents here. But if you're looking for agents, you look for them in a capital city.
Lloyd stirred to life. "I'm picking up a whole bunch of thought patterns," he mumbled. "It sounds like a human anthill."
"In what direction?"
"Straight ahead."
Rous nodded. "That would be the city, then," he maintained. "So maybe the people there haven't disappeared yet."
Lloyd appeared to have lost interest. He was listening again. A while later he said, "There aren't any really alien patterns present. Maybe just here and there."
"What percentage would you say?" Rous asked quickly. "One in a thousand," Lloyd answered. "It's tough to pick them up in such a mass of thoughts, particularly at this distance."
Rous made a deprecating gesture. "For all we know, the population of Fillinan could be over 3,000,000. If there were at least 3000 of the aliens among them, you'd know it. So I don't think there are very many of them present."
Lloyd grumbled: "Then we'll have to wait until one of them comes close enough." With that he leaned forward again and supported his head in his hands. A few minutes later, Rous began to put on the brakes. He turned the bus to the side of the road and came to a stop. "We get out here," he announced.
"Why?" asked Rosita. "At the most, the city is three miles away yet. Our headlights could be seen from there. I don't want to be questioned by anybody as to how we got hold of the bus or what's happened to the passengers." They got out. Lloyd carried the case under his arm. The rest of the way to Fillinan was uncomfortable. The storm blew against the lonely wanderers in sharp, chilling blasts. The gray dust particles bit into their skin and they held their heads down to afford themselves some protection. Fortunately they encountered no one. By an Earthly way of thinking, the broad highway should have been swarming with traffic. But it was empty.
At the first glimmer of gray dawn the first outlying buildings and houses began to appear. The storm had abated somewhat but the sky was still overcast. Mirsal, the central star of the system, failed to appear. The houses they were looking at appeared to be deserted. They had the customary 6-sided construction design like all the others they had seen. Some of the windows had drawn shades but nowhere was there a light to be seen.
Lloyd came to a halt suddenly. "three or four men are close ahead," he announced. "Maybe 200 yards."
"Only four?" asked Rous curiously. "What about the houses?"
"Nobody. They're all empty." Rous pondered it. The city was inhabited, there was no doubt about that. Only the outlying houses were empty, Why? Because they've evacuated them in order to observe the exit roads, dumbbell! The four men Lloyd is detecting are sentries at a military guard post.
"Take out the psycho-beamer!" he told Lloyd. "We don't have any other choice because we have to keep on straight ahead."
Lloyd nodded. He took the weapon out of the case and hung the case on a strap over his shoulder.
Then they kept on walking. Rosita followed behind.
The first thing Rous saw in the gray dimness was a cylindrical weapon barrel with a 4-inch muzzle that was sticking out of a garden hedge on the left side of the street, supported on a double frame.
Rous knew that it was a type of flame-thrower. On Mirsal 2, ordnance technology was not as well developed as it had been on Earth at an equivalent time-period. Ordinarily Mirsal guns were no more dependable than the clumsiest flintlock of Earth's ancient past and more than anything they were equally troublesome to operate. So by comparison a flame-thrower was a virtual miracle weapon.
Rous pretended that he hadn't seen the flamer, though it made him a bit uneasy. He was not too familiar with the Mirsalese mentality, especially now that they had become trigger-happy over the disappearance of their people in the villages. It was hard to tell whether or not they'd prefer to shoot first before asking questions.
As it turned out, his apprehension appeared to be unfounded. A small, brown-skinned man raised up from the garden foliage behind the flame-thrower and waved his arms urgently.
Rous stopped where he was.
"Halt!" shouted the man. "Wait!"
"Careful now!" he said softly to Lloyd. "If he comes out alone, make him bring out the others."
Lloyd nodded.
The little man stepped into the street and came toward them. Rous noted that he carried a smaller version of the flame-thrower in his right hand. As the man drew near, he attempted to register an expression of astonishment.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Why are you stopping people?"
The little man gave no answer until he had come to within five yards of Rous and his two companions.
"Where are you from?" he asked suspiciously.
"From Wollaston," Rous told him.
Wollaston was a fairly large island in the Central Sea. The people who lived there represented a separate race, semi-civilized, whose average height was eight to ten inches greater than the normal Mirsalese.
"From Wollaston?!" inquired the guard in astonishment. "On foot?"
"No. We came by plane as far as Resaz and from there by bus to Keyloghal. From that point on, of course, we came on foot."
"Credentials please?"
Rous pretended that he hadn't the slightest idea of what was meant by credentials. The guard turned around and shouted over the garden thicket: "Hey, come out here! I've just caught three very strange geons" (Amphibious butterflies of Mirsal. Slang saying equivalent to saying "I've caught three strange fish.")
Rous turned to look at Lloyd. But Lloyd shook his head. He had not yet activated the psycho-beamer, the guard had shouted on his own volition.
Three men came out of the bushes. They were no larger than the first man and wore the same kind of uniform-like fabric of a dark green color.
"They claim to come from Wollaston," scoffed the first guard. "They don't have any papers."
"Just the kind we've been waiting for!" cried one of the other three. "If we search them we'll find a lot of very interesting things on them."
Rous was aware of a slight movement behind him as Lloyd moved into position. It was an opportune moment. The attention of the guard in front of him had been distracted during the short conversation. He heard the faint high whine of the weapon. The guard turned to stare at Lloyd as if thunderstruck. Lloyd emerged from the cover that Rous had been giving him until now. The small psych-beamer was in his right hand.
"Drop your weapons," he ordered calmly.
The other three guards, who were already halfway across to them, came to a stop. Obediently they drew their small flame-throwers from their belts and let them fall. Also, the first guard offered no resistance.
"Form a line here," continued Lloyd.
This command was also followed without resistance. The four little men stared at Lloyd as though, in their ancient mythology, he had just arrived on a meteor.
"Why are you stationed here?" Lloyd wanted to know. "Come on, you—answer me!" He pointed to one of them.
"Strange things are happening," the Miralese answered tonelessly. "People disappear, whole regions of the country are depopulated. A powerful, invisible enemy has attacked us. We have to track him down. So all people who come out of the depopulated areas have to be investigated, it's the only way we can catch the enemy."
Rous considered that conclusion to be self-evident. Whoever emerged out of the depopulated regions had to be an enemy. It appeared then that three agents from an alien neutral power would complicate such a situation.
"Do you consider us to be enemies?" asked Lloyd.
"Yes."
"We are not enemies, do you hear?"
"Yes, I heard you; you are not our enemies."
"Good," nodded Lloyd. "How much money have you got on you?"
The soldier began to look through his pockets. "16 units and some small change."
"Hand it over!"
The soldier came up to Lloyd and placed the money in his hand. Lloyd gave the same orders to the other three and after they had complied he found that he had taken in almost 100 units of money. "You will forget what has transpired here," he told them. "10 minutes after we've left you will not know anything more about it. This morning didn't happen, do you understand? No one has come on the road from Resaz into Fillinan."
All four men repeated the instructions obediently.
"Now go back to your posts."
They also obeyed this command. Lloyd turned off his weapon and put it back in its case. The post-hypnotic effect would last as long as he had ordered it to: ten minutes.
"Let's go!" whispered Rous. "In ten minutes we have to be out of visible range."
They ran a short distance. Within five minutes the street made a turn and led them out of view of the hypnotized guards.
Less than a mile into the city they encountered a second guard station but inasmuch as Rous and his companions had apparently been permitted to pass through by the first sentries without hesitation, they were not stopped at this point.
Beyond this second guard station the hubbub of the big city began. Rouse made a decision.
"We'll make our quarters in a hotel. Our money will last us through the first day but after that we'll have to rustle up some more."
"And what will we do in the hotel?" asked Rosita.
"For starters, we'll sleep. I'm dog tired."
"Hm-m," mused Rosita. "Do you already have plans for what you'll do after you've slept?"
Rous grimaced. "You're a very curious girl, Rosita. To be frank with you, no, I don't have any plans. I don't have the slightest idea of how to proceed from here. I'm afraid we'll simply have to let things come to us."
They inquired of a passerby where they could find a hotel nearby. The man informed them but failed to conceal his wonderment about the question. Rous learned that for the last three days an absolute travel quarantine had been imposed across the entire continent and the only people allowed to travel were those who possessed a special permit. However, the explanation that the three strangers were from the island of Wollaston seemed to suffice.
The hotel that the Mirsalese had described was in the vicinity. They went there on foot. Pedestrians stared at them and stopped to watch them. Rous felt uneasy. Rosita kept her eyes on the ground and did not look up.
On the other hand, Lloyd was apparently not in the slightest impressed by all this. He muttered continuously to himself; he nodded or shook his head and undoubtedly was sufficiently occupied by his own monologue to fail to notice the curiosity of the Mirsalese.
Suddenly he stopped. "Darn it!" he exclaimed.
"What's the matter?" asked Rous.
"Everybody who travels requires a special permit," said Lloyd thoughtfully. "So the people who were on our bus must have been very important people, wouldn't you say?"
Rous nodded. "Okay. And so?"
"Take a look at the way people park their cars here."
Rous had a look around. He had already noticed that pe
ople on Mirsal 2 drove on the left side of the street and correspondingly parked on the left side. But it had not occurred to him to give the matter any further thought.
"To the left," he answered. "What's the point?"
"But don't you remember that you parked the bus on the right?"
"So what if I did?"
Lloyd looked at him a bit caustically. "Lieutenant, I'm straight out of New York. If a bus full of important people disappeared in New York and the police found it later parked on the wrong side of the street, from just that alone they'd draw a bunch of conclusions. Maybe the police are just as sharp in Fillinan as they are in New York. On top of it they've already been on alert here for three days. And finally: the first guard post we passed won't have any recollection of us. But the second sentry station will be able to report, if anybody asks them, what direction they saw us coming from."
Rous had become thoughtful. "You could be right, Lloyd," he admitted. "But the only thing left for us to do is simply to wait it out and see just how smart the Fillinan cops are!"
They continued onward to the hotel. The large lobby was absolutely empty. There was no one behind the reception desk. However there was a call bell and after Rous had pressed the button several times a little man finally appeared who reacted skeptically to Rous' request for separate rooms for himself and each of his companions. The little fellow demanded credentials and special permits but Lloyds pyscho-beamer influenced him to forget his request in a hurry. The three of them were assigned rooms and were directed to the second floor of the hotel.
In spite of Lloyd's having used the psycho-beamer, Rous selected the rooms strictly in terms of their own particular suitability. They had connecting doors between them so that one wouldn't have to go out into the hallway in order to visit his neighbor.
