Saboteurs in A-1 Read online

  Perry Rhodan

  Posbis #115

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  SABOTEURS IN A-1

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  1/ SITUATION: EXPLOSIVE

  A GLINT.

  There was a brief glitter in Hoga’s Arkonide eyes. Then he smiled with pretended indifference and listened further to the Springer who had arrived 15 minutes ago with important news.

  His report covered many crucial items, such as the Imperator Gonozal VIII, the Terran Perry Rhodan and his mutants and even the robot Brain on Arkon 3, as well as the assassination of Admiral Thekus and the underground movement whose prime objective was to destroy the mammoth positronicon. The Springer had also referred to some of Rhodan’s mutants who had formed a Security cordon around the threatened Imperator and made it impossible at present to make an assassination attempt on the Arkonide ruler.

  "For the moment that’s about it, Hoga," the Galactic Trader concluded. "While I was on my way here, the same report went out to Carba."

  The Arkonide tensed in surprise. "Over hypercom?" he asked, now obviously concerned.

  The Springer was an older man with a time-worn face. He laughed. "of course. The message wasn’t even converted to code, except for the text itself. That’s why those nosy Terrans will hardly take any notice of it. All they’ll pick up from it is ship’s orders, freight schedules and landing times of a few spacers. Besides, it wasn’t beamed out directly to Carba. It was addressed to Mentho on Archetz. But you seem to be worked up about it."

  When Hoga got to his feet his lean figure towered at least a head above the Springer. He placed his hands on the other’s shoulders and shook his head. "Jukan, aren’t you familiar with the history of the Solar Imperium? Have you forgotten what a ridiculously small world these Terrans started up from and that they only grew big because of our technology? Now why were they able to do this? Well, Jukan, do you know?"

  "Hoga, that hypercom message to Carba..." The Arkonide interrupted him sharply. "One of the Terrans’ many hypercom stations will intercept and examine that dispatch to Mentho on Archetz. They’ve shown us enough in the past how they operate. They’ll take that message and and pick it to pieces; they’ll turn it inside out and run it through their computers; it will make them suspicious. They’ll dissect that message as if their lives depended on it. In the end they’ll uncover what was concealed in the camouflaged wordage."

  "By the gods of our ancestors!" cried Jukan, alarmed. "You’re making supermen out of these Terrans!"

  "I’m doing no such thing but I’m not stupid enough to dig my own grave. Ever since I found out what Perry Rhodan said when the planet Kusma blew up, I’ve been doubly uneasy."

  "So what did the Terran say?" asked Jukan.

  Hoga released his grip on the Springer and stared at him thoughtfully. "It was only one sentence but it was a meaningful one. Rhodan said: The main weapon of humanity is time...

  Jukan laughed.

  The younger Arkonide looked at him angrily. "Apparently you haven’t gotten the true significance of that remark. The man from our group who heard Rhodan say these words also failed to grasp their real meaning but he had an instinctive feeling that the remark could be important and that’s why he reported it to me. Yes, Jukan, so far time has been the chief weapon of the Terrans. We’ve always given them an extra breather, that extra bit of time they’ve needed. We’ve only taken measures against them after they took the step that always put them ahead. As a result we’re going to have to make a last-minute move to save what can be saved—that is, if your hypercom message hasn’t ruined everything!"

  The Springer, who was twice as old as Hoga, reflectively scratched his bearded chin. "I don’t hold much with cryptic sayings. I only deal with hard facts. Are we still going to start this operation by passing the word to Solar Intelligence that somebody is planning to blow up the robot Brain on Arkon 3? Hoga, I don’t mind telling you I’m not in favor of these sneaky manipulations. In fact I think what’s being planned is plain dirty."

  "I think so myself," admitted Hoga frankly, and he disregarded Jukan’s look of surprise. "I’ve even tried to suppress this action but I couldn’t manage it solo. In fact I now have the assignment to play this information into the hands of Solar Intelligence."

  "But without me," Jukan blurted out, expressing his premonitions.

  Hoga gave him a friendly smile. "But you know—on Archetz they’d still give a lot to know who was behind the Subbu swindle racket."

  Jukan clenched his fists in helpless rage. "You’re nothing but dirty blackmailers!" he growled.

  Hoga ignored his outburst. "Luklein has been here three years on Trum, apparently running the shipping lines to the Ghonna System, but he’s actually a Sol Security agent. I figure he’ll pay a pretty price for your information. You can keep the money. Do we understand each other?"

  The conversation had taken on a sharper tone. The two men faced each other stiffly. The actions of the young Arkonide were the more surprising because he showed not the slightest trace of the notorious mental lethargy of his race. His eyes were bright and alert. However, there was a countering gleam in the Springer’s eyes. He knew his hands were tied. He had to do what Carba’s group told him to do or the Springers on the planet Archetz would find out who had fleeced them out of several hundred millions a year or so ago when the widely ballyhooed Subbu Company turned out to be nothing more than a very clever swindling operation.

  7 months ago when Jukan was just starting to enjoy his pilfered millions he was suddenly confronted by two Arkonides who told him he was a cheat and a swindler and that he could be in a very serious bind within the hour unless he declared himself willing to work for the Arkonide family of Minterol. Jukan had no choice but to say yes to the proposition and from that day forward he had been continuously engaged in work for the House of Minterol.

  It didn’t take him long to realize that he was actually performing services for a wide-spread and influential resistance group. It had brought the sweat to his brow when this fact became apparent because he knew the laws of Arkon concerning conspiracies. In the 145 paragraphs pertaining to this area of the statutes it was mentioned in 131 places that death was the minimum punishment for such activities! In its more than 15,000 years of existence the Arkonide Imperium had always reacted harshly to subversion and in most cases had meted out death to accomplices in any revolutionary action.

  Once Jukan’s eyes had been opened to the new contaminations he had gotten into there was no turning back, not even when the Arkon admiral Thekus, a member of the Minterol family, had been murdered during an ambassadorial reception hosted by Marshal Julian Tifflor. The death of the energetic admiral had revealed to Jukan with a brutal clarity that he must be working for a group Of Arkonides who would stop at nothing to reach their goals. In comparison, his giant swindle on the Springer planet of Archetz had been a mere bagatelle, although his method of operation had also been illegal.

  And now his own group was about to betray that circle of Arkonide malcontents who were planning to blow up the mammoth Brain on Arkon 3. Hoga had just explained in no uncertain terms that he had been selected as the Judas who was to bring the facts to the right man! In spite of the unscrupulous characteristics which had always distinguished Jukan as a typical Springer, be still had traces of the honor and propriety which is even known among thieves. It went against the grain with him to betray others, no matter what the operation.

  Hoga had noted Jukan’s hesitation and realized at once what was on the other’s mind. The man could be dangerous, he thought coldly. The Springer was not reliable anymore and yet he knew too much. Perhaps he, Hoga, would have to see to it that Jukan would quietly disappea
r. However, he did not allow his expression to betray his plan.

  "Well, Jukan?" he asked with almost casual indifference.

  "Who is this Luklein, Hoga?"

  The young Arkonide stiffened in some surprise. He had just explained to Jukan that Luklein was an agent of Solar Intelligence yet the Springer still seemed to be uninformed.

  Seeing the other’s obvious surprise, Jukan explained: "Hoga, you told me what Luklein does but nobody’s yet told me if he’s a Galactic Trader, an Ekhonide or perhaps a Terran."

  "Since when has Sol Security ever put non-Terrans in important positions, Jukan?" retorted Hoga impatiently.

  Jukan demonstrated a certain presence of mind. It was well known to him that Solar Intelligence also placed non-Terrans in some vital posts but Hoga didn’t seem to know this. And Jukan wasn’t about to reveal his own knowledge in this regard. For this reason he pretended to be disconcerted. He stammered a few incoherent sentences, shook his head and after apparently collecting himself he said his piece.

  "I’ve had a bad day today, Hoga. Maybe it’s because when coming through Arkon 3 this morning I saw a massive landing of Terran warships. They couldn’t have made a bigger manoeuvre if it had been an invasion!"

  Now Hoga’s smile was insidious. "Such large fleet activity is to our advantage just now. So let the Terrans stand guard over the giant Brain!" That will keep it out of danger of going up in smoke." Then he stiffly dismissed the Springer with a parting instruction. "In two hours the material will be here that you are to sell to Luklein this evening, Jukan. So I will expect you back here in two hours."

  Again the Trader kept his presence of mind. He did not reveal that he had perceived more behind Hoga’s words than the Arkonide had intended for him to know. He nodded with apparent indifference. "Good. That suits me fine. Then I’ll have time to eat. If anything important comes up, Hoga, you’ll find me in one of the three nearest hotels. Otherwise—in two hours." With that he departed—but he could feel Hoga’s gaze following him. He had to control himself to keep from leaving the room too swiftly.

  For the first time in his life he knew what it was like to feel the breath of death on his neck.

  When he came outside he was almost blinded by the bright sun shining down from a cloudless sky.

  • • •

  The spaceship was of Arkonide design, apparently a DD-class vessel, measuring only 80 meters in diameter. One hour before it had landed in a location that was not suitable for such a manoeuvre but with the help of the antigrav fields the landing had been a smooth one.

  It lay between two steeply-rising earth slopes and its greyish color blended excellently with its surroundings. At only three km the naked eye might not have been able to detect its presence here but of course any local energy sensor would have spotted it immediately. This was because its antigrav was extraordinarily powerful for a DD-class ship. The repulsion field was kept running in order to hold it close above the yielding soil. But the super powerful antigrav was not the only unusual feature about the small spaceship: it also had a ring bulge which was strictly unrepresentative of an ordinary DD-class vessel. Apparently it was of very special design.

  Shortly after the landing only one man had emerged from the ship. He had been expected because even as the Arkonide came out of the air-lock a glider moved into place at the foot of the small passenger ramp. Slightly stooped with age, he had climbed wordlessly into the waiting hovercraft, nodded silently to the pilot and let himself be transported away.

  The glider set him down in the middle of an alien-looking area that might have been a park. The Arkonide got out and turned at once to his right, where he disappeared between some trees which might have reminded a Terran of giant mushrooms. Apparently this wasn’t the first time he had been here because he went his way confidently, looking neither to right nor left. After making a number of turns he came to a long plastic structure.

  With the same calm confidence the Arkonide entered the building. With hardly a glance at the robot guards he passed through the entrance checkpoint, went to the door at the end of the hall and opened it. The three young men inside had apparently been waiting for him because they revealed no surprise when the older man entered and closed the door behind him. Two of them were obviously Ekhonides and the third was an Arkonide.

  Taking a seat, the newcomer asked, "Has anything new come in during the last hour concerning Jukan’s murder?"

  Neither of the two Ekhonides made a move to speak but the young Arkonide answered in a firm tone of voice. "We just received the third report a few minutes ago, Drakont, thanks to an undercover man we have had working a few months now in Luklein’s fake company. The Springer, Jukan, was shot by an unknown assassin right while he was looking for Luklein’s private residence."

  "So it wasn’t one of us who did it, Mith?" asked the older one called Drakont.

  "Jukan was to have been canceled out today. Hoga had already made all the preparations when the news of the Springer’s death reached him. As soon as he heard about it, he put out the alarm."

  Drakont nodded. "I heard it while flying in here. And what was in the other two messages, Mith?"

  "The first one to follow the news of Jukan’s death revealed that Solar Intelligence has been suspecting for some days now that Jukan belonged to Thekus’ group. The Terrans are supposed to have had him under surveillance when he died."

  "Then maybe the unknown assailant did us a favor?"

  "I wouldn’t venture to say that," said Mith, "because we don’t know who he was. Maybe the assailant and the people behind him knew more about Jukan than we suspect."

  Drakont looked at the younger man sharply. "Are you thinking that Jukan could have been a double agent?" he asked. There was an almost threatening note in his voice.

  Mith was silent for a moment, as if not wanting to answer the question. However, when he revealed the contents of the third report that had come in, it more or less took the place of an answer. "This morning on Arkon 3 when Jukan changed ships, a passenger got on board behind him and took a seat next to him although there was plenty of room elsewhere. Jukan was supposed to have been under surveillance of G56 and S21 but they’ve confessed that they were momentarily distracted by the massive landing manoeuvres of the Terran fleet on Arkon 3, so they failed to give the newcomer the usual inspection. Later on Trum, as we know, Jukan was murdered in front of Luklein’s private residence—but it was only minutes prior to the actual assassination that the identity of the stranger was discovered during a checkout of the films that were taken at the time of the ship transfer. The assailant was a courier working for the radicals."

  Drakont made no comment regarding this unusually alarming piece of news. He seemed more concerned with the fact that the Springer had immediately gotten in touch with the Terran agent Joe Luklein after leaving Hoga. "How was Jukan able to make contact with Luklein?" he asked.

  "So far, Hoga and his men haven’t been able to determine that. He couldn’t dig too deeply into it because the situation on Trum is critical. Solar intelligence has stepped up operations there to a frightening extent. The word is out that the Terran mutants are back in the action. Which has made it necessary for Hoga and his top men to go under ‘protective cover.’"

  Mith grinned broadly when he used this terminology and even Drakont could not suppress a slight smirk. The two Ekhonides stared at them in surprise and puzzlement but were not enlightened on the subject.

  Drakont continued probing into the puzzling murder of the Springer. "Mith, could Jukan’s death be an act of revenge on the part of an accomplice?"

  Mith, who evidently held an important position in the Thekus faction, shook his head in denial. "No! The Subbu swindle left no enemies in its wake among those who were involved. With Jukan it was apparently a case of honor among thieves. To cheat on another cohort was crime number one. He and his accomplices divided up the very rich haul as they had agreed to. In the short time Hoga had to look into it, he found out that not one of the
swindlers left his concealment."

  Drakont’s face continued to show deep concern. Jukan’s case and its accompanying developments had filled him with more alarm than anything else since the Thekus resistance group had been in existence. As a courier between the strongholds of the anarchists, Jukan had become a very important man. During the past few months he had acquired a unique overview of the various resistance groups which was second to none. Although he was not too familiar with the plans he knew where the general headquarters base was located. And he must have also known that Solar Intelligence had been doing everything possible in the past few weeks to find out what world Thekus’ nephew had retreated to.

  For a few minutes an oppressive silence pervaded the room. But Drakont and Mith occasionally exchanged significant glances. The situation made the Ekhonides feel like unwelcome visitors.

  The Ekhonide with the abnormally large hands had clenched his fists. "We might as well leave if we’re disturbing you two!" he said angrily.

  Drakont answered him coldly. "That’s a completely superfluous remark. Why have you taken this long to leave?"

  However, Mith wasn’t in agreement with this sharp rejoinder. He straightened up quickly. "No—you stay! Drakont doesn’t know yet that you are the authors of operation Imperator."

  "What?" queried Drakont sharply, staring incredulously at the Ekhonides. "You two came up with that idea?"

  "Not only that, Drakont," said Mith with a slight edge to his voice. He pointed to the Ekhonide with the huge hands. "Tro-lugo has an uncle who serves in the Crystal Palace of the Imperator. Without this uncle the plan could not be consummated."

  Drakont’s features quickly relaxed and he offered a curt apology. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out an impulse beamer. Casually he placed the dangerous weapon on the table before them. "There it is," he said, and fell silent.

  The three younger men leaned forward and looked at the weapon as though it were the first time they had ever seen a raygun—but no one ventured to pick it up.