Mystery of the Anti Read online

  PROLOG

  PERRY RHODAN'S DISCOVERY Of the Moon-stranded Arkonide exploration ship became the cornerstone for the political unity of Mankind as well as a "launch-pad" for the growth of the Solar Empire. But not even Rhodan himself could perceive the magnitude of effort and nerve stamina that would be required over the ensuing course of years in order to preserve this empire against attacks from the outside as well as from within.

  Perry Rhodan has recognized one fact for certain: the safety and further development of humanity could not be assured until peace was established in the entire galaxy!

  Even the undying Atlan seeks such a peace, having recently taken the place of the robot Regent, that mighty positronic brain that had previously employed the merciless forces of its robot fleets to smash every revolution against the central Arkonide power.

  Atlan, who is now Imperator Gonozal VIII, and Perry Rhodan, Administrator of the Solar Empire, have made a mutual assistance pact which, as a matter of practicality, is based on the instinct of self-preservation. This pact between Arkon and Terra has already resulted in several supporting actions on both sides.

  Now after Perry Rhodan has returned to Earth from his second "Flight to Eternity", he takes Atlan's precarious political situation into account by sending off his Mutant Corps Chief John Marshall to Arkon as a liaison officer to the Imperator himself.

  However, when Rhodan issued this order he was unprepared for––

  Perry Rhodan

  Atlan And Arkon #88

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  Mystery of the Anti

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  1/ THE HALLS OF ENVY

  "His all-seeing Omniscient Eminence, Lord of Arkon and the worlds of the galaxy, his Imperial Magnificence, Gonozal the Eighth, godhead of our most ancient dynastic royalty, hereby declares the Supreme Council of Arkon to be in session!"

  This solemn announcement was partially drowned in the low thunder of marching metallic feet as my special combat robots advanced with fire-ready weapons. The Chief of Protocol had exerted every effort to open the ceremonies according to the ancient ritual. The scientists of the Supreme Council had risen from their seats. Tradition dictated that each ruler of the stellar empire should be accompanied by a bodyguard, for more than one Imperator had fallen prey to insidious intrigues of the Court.

  However, in direct violation of protocol I had formed my guard unit of modern special robots. I was not ready to expose myself to the raybeam fire of some Naat guard who might have been bribed or otherwise influenced. I knew they hated me. They hated me with all the intensity of which they were capable.

  I was an outsider, a leftover from a past era who had suddenly appeared among them and who towered above the present descendants of the formerly dynamic race of Arkonides by virtue of the superior mental and physical fitness that had characterized their ancestors. They knew that with the help of a Terranian commando force I had succeeded in overthrowing the once omnipotent-seeming robot Brain and that I had finally taken over the ruling power of the Greater Imperium.

  Perhaps they might have forgiven me for a prodigal return that was about 10,000 years too late, or in spite of my claim to power they would probably not have been either malevolent or envious—if I had permitted myself to be pressed into the general mold of their present decadence. Since I had no intention of allowing the empire to continue its current degenerate course, ruptured as it was by widespread revolutionary upheavals and countless colonial wars, I had made high direct demands on these weak-willed and morally psychically decadent dreamers who had felt more comfortable under the sham rulership of psychopaths and neurotics for the past seven decades.

  The actual power of the Empire had been wielded for them by a giant positronic robot which had been programmed against the inevitable by the clear-sighted scientists of my venerable race. The present populace had already grown accustomed to the merciless dictatorship of a machine in the tri-planet core of Arkon—and then I had arrived.

  I came to a halt at the edge of the curved amphitheater. Before me was the gigantic hall where in earlier times the Supreme Council of Arkon had founded the Empire, decided on its expansion and developed us into the mightiest and most affluent civilization of the galaxy. Now the variously colored pneumatic seats of these pioneers had been taken over by their descendants; but what had become of the representatives of my people?

  Certainly these faces before me did not appear to be stupid, yet I thought I perceived in their eyes a kind of yawning emptiness and general lack of interest. I realized that their attitude was one of indignant questioning as to why they had been disturbed from their normal repose. After all, there was still a robot Regent whose programming had so far not proved to be of any personal detriment to the representatives of the realm. The men in these comfortable seats had become so indolent that I could not hope for their collaboration. Probably they would no longer be of any help at all. Various scientific experts from Terrania had made it quite clear to me that the members of the Supreme Council were undergoing a process of degeneration—and not alone the men of the Council!

  Everywhere on Arkon 1, the renowned Crystal World of the Arkonides, this mental and spiritual dissolution was evident. They took pleasure in senseless amusements, simultan games and unrealistic philosophies which were unparalleled in the 20,000-year history of the stellar empire. They kept themselves thus occupied in order to avoid the much-needed labor of leadership. The representatives of my people had come to the end of their road. They had lost everything that had been considered of value by the Arkonide statesmen, scientists and fleet officers of my era.

  Once more the Chief of Protocol was expounding his ceremonious phrases in which I was extolled as a so-called 'million-eyed divinity and all-seeing eminence'.

  These words which at one time had been significant and perhaps deserved were only repelling to me. And in the present surroundings they were senseless.

  The 20 combat robots took up positions on either side of the imperial couch or throne that floated before me on an antigrav screen. Their energy screens which protected me were silent proof that I meant business. A much more impressive demonstration of my intentions was evident in the elongated remote control apparatus that I carried prominently on my left forearm. Responsive only to my bodily frequency, the pulse transceiver enabled me at any time to contact the robot brain on Arkon 3. They knew very well what power was connected to this. No one other than myself was able to give commands to the Regent.

  It was our 4th session in the Hall of Ancestors. During the three previous conferences I had presented explanations and proofs to the effect that I, as Admiral Atlan of the ruling dynasty of Gonozal, had been detained on an alien world due to, adverse circumstances. I had further described how I had managed to escape the catastrophe of Atlantis and how I had been able to return home some 10,000 years after my departure from the Arkon System. Perry Rhodan and Terranian liaison officers had personally confirmed my credentials. However this would have been of little use to me if the robot Brain had not fully supported my arguments and made them irrefutable. The Regent had ascertained that I was Atlan of the ruling house of Gonozal and that therefore I had every claim to the title of Imperator.

  I had moved into the Crystal Palace of Arkon 1 only four days before. Refusing to submit to the week-long coronation ceremonies I had immediately sought to locate the widely dispersed members of the Supreme Council. During the ensuing days they had been in session with me, the old and the young, aristocrats and noblemen, all of them thinking and acting in the same pattern.

  Shortly prior to this the transport ships had arrived which I had dispatched into a distant solar system. Rhodan's enormo
usly capable men had succeeded in tracing down one of the forgotten emigrant ships of my people and they had managed to rescue these so-called 'sleepers'. They numbered about 100,000 Arkonides who had started out thousands of years ago but had fallen into a biological deep-sleep or state of aestivation owing to an accident and certain unusual circumstances.

  Although they had departed long ago in my own time, these people were still unimpaired and in possession of their full faculties of mind and reason. But I was not yet able to demand the help of the returned emigrants because of their state of exhaustion and their need for rest and recuperation.

  Nevertheless, in them a ray of hope had appeared. With 100,000 unimpaired Arkonides I hoped to rebuild the Empire. And if I took pains to rescue the still unborn generations from the general delirium of decadence through proper educational measures, then it should be possible to renew the Imperium within a shorter number of decades.

  However, these were future dreams which could not be realized very well without the assistance of the Terranians.

  I slowly sat down on the wide throne couch and was borne upward with it on the antigrav field. It stopped at a height of three meters above the floor of the amphitheater, which gave me a splendid view of everything.

  The members of the Council had seated themselves again. What I did not permit myself to do they took for granted. They stretched out comfortably, crossed their legs and waited lethargically for what was to come. In some dismay I looked across at the liaison officer whom Rhodan had just recently assigned to Arkon.

  This was the slender and likable Chief of the Terranian Mutant Corps, John Marshall, whose superior telepathic faculties were at my disposal. He noticed my imploring look. I opened my parapsychic mono-screen so that I could receive Marshall's telepathic signals. A slightly painful pressure in the back of my head made me aware of my extra-brain which had become activated thousands of years ago.

  "That's fine, sir."

  I had just received Marshall's conscious thought. It was as though he had actually spoken, and once again I regretted that I had not also been endowed with such a natural gift. I could only understand John when he concentrated on me directly. On the other hand it was not possible for me to call him mentally unless he willed it. Only when he concentrated on me as he was doing now was I able to establish a telepathic communication.

  What are they thinking?" I asked.

  "Not much of anything, sir. The usual, I should say."

  "Probably why I'm still alive—right?"

  "Exactly. It's inconceivable to them that you, sir, could have left the Arkon System 10,000 years ago and now return, home without any noticeable signs of aging. Some of the scientists have gone to the trouble of doing some research in the government library. They have discovered the record of your ancestral lineage, sir. From that they know that you are actually Atlan."

  I suppressed a grim chuckle. No one knew anything about my cell activator. Even if I had revealed my secret the function of the small device would have been unimaginable to these people. I myself only knew that my natural cellular decay and the consequent signs of aging were suspended continuously by mysterious stimuli.

  So it had been for many millenniums. Without being obvious I touched the upper part of my simple uniform jacket and felt the contours of the activator underneath. On a biophysical basis it had endowed me with an eternal life—a life which day by day and year after year had been filled with a burning homesickness for Arkon.

  Now I was back home but I had encountered conditions that had both filled me with shame and shaken me to the point of action. Something had to be done to salvage Arkon's greatness. The mighty robot fleet was not enough to do it with.

  I opened the Council meeting. It didn't take them 10 minutes before they mustered enough courage to start making protests, which I parried at first patiently but finally rejected openly, having to resort to very obvious threats. After an hour I gave it up. It was completely futile to try forcing these men into useful channels. Marshall informed me that the overall aspiration of those present was focused exclusively on one subject: how to get rid of me, the undesirable meddler and mischief-maker. They were angry and indignant and were all pondering over what means might be used to rid themselves of the rulership of an Imperator who had suddenly appeared in their midst.

  There were no straightforward and sensible suggestions for strengthening the stellar empire. The few proposals that were presented were a clear indication that they didn't have any conception of the overall picture. The situation along the Druuf battlefront was an unknown subject to the members of the Council. As for the Terranian liaison officer, they almost disregarded him entirely. Marshall was somewhat amused to inform me that they considered him to be the representative of some insignificant, colonial people, although he stood among them as a highly capable telepath.

  I lowered the regal couch to the floor and ended the meeting. Ignoring the fawning words and gestures of nearby courtiers, I walked away in the midst of my robot escort.

  Even though the Crystal Palace of Arkon languished in decadence, the court society did not neglect its banquets and celebrations. In such matters they were highly skilled, since it was the chief means of surrounding an Imperator with flattery and obtaining special privileges. I was detained by all sorts of spongers and parasites who praised me with flowery phrases and showered me with such ridiculously convoluted titles that I almost became ill.

  One of these persons who had been introduced to me as the greatest living philosopher and simultan-game composer was troubled over the fact that the robot Regent had cut off his honorary monthly stipend. Since I was familiar with the gentleman's line of chatter, I bluntly rejected his petition and ordered him to apply his abilities to more useful purposes.

  I began to go against their grain, apparently offending everyone and never making a friend. They would retreat from me with polite and courtly words yet in their eyes I saw the sparks of hatred. I had countermanded the plans for the coronation celebration and it had caused a wave of indignation.

  The Chief of Protocol whispered to me imploringly: "If I may take the liberty of reminding Your Eminence that the leading artists of the Empire have already accepted invitations... Your Excellence will surely be gracious enough to consider how important..."

  I turned on my heel to him with such abruptness that he drew back in fright. We had arrived in the foyer of the Hall of Wisdom. "In my opinion these extravagant and carousing festivities are intolerable in the present situation," I countered with unconcealed annoyance. "I request you urgently to invite the responsible officers of the Fleet to the palace. I shall accept no excuses. If any of them fail to appear at the appointed time, I'll relieve them of their command."

  My robot guards pressed the courtiers back. John Marshall followed close behind me. His face remained unmoved and expressionless but as a telepath he was undoubtedly more aware than I of the hatred that my arrival had aroused.

  My dreams of a homecoming were being scattered more and more by such winds of contention. Naturally I was not against the idea of celebrations per se; I would have gladly sponsored the greatest festival of the millennium. The Imperium was rich. During the regency of the robot Brain, commerce had flourished again with the countless colonial worlds, even though the former private enterprise of the merchants had become more stereotyped than ever. But now the state of affairs had changed. I could not take it upon myself to assume my high station with all the pomp and ceremony that everyone had expected. I was disappointed and embittered.

  In front of the private elevator to the upper palace chambers there was a guard detail made up of triple-eyed creatures from the planet Naat. I instructed the giant Triclopeans to keep me from being disturbed.

  20 minutes later I reached the royal apartments which had been occupied by the Imperators before me. Here I had refrained from using the larger and more ostentatious chambers. Having become frugal and unpretentious over the course of many thousands of years, I had furnishe
d a small apartment which gave me a view of the inner palace court. I felt the most at home in the large combination office and operations room where the switching consoles put me in direct contact with the Brain and thus connected me with the true administrative centers of the Imperium.

  I removed the magnificent shoulder cape bearing the imperial insignia and handed it to a waiting robot valet, who soundlessly vanished into an opening in the floor which quietly closed behind it. Beneath my workroom was the control central of the imperial private guard. It was a practical impossibility for anyone to penetrate my selected portion of the Crystal Palace against my win.

  John Marshall had entered here with me. He merely stood by until I should have occasion to speak to him. I walked over to the transparent defense screen that had replaced the gallery of windows facing the inner court. The circular courtyard, measuring 1,500 meters across, lay 800 meters below me. In keeping with our architectural tradition, the Crystal Palace was also in the form of a large cone. Resting on its trunk-like foundation, it towered upward and extended far out over the magnificent park-like landscape. The circular area enclosed by the inner walls of the funnel-like structure was formed into descending terraces which finally terminated far below in the gardens.

  I enjoyed the splendid view that my apartment afforded me. The base of the building was 500 meters in diameter. Within its foundations were all the machines and control stations which had made the Crystal Palace a phenomenon of the galaxy. The former Imperators had claimed it for their royal dwelling. It contained an incredible number of rooms where at one time all the leading intelligences of the known galaxy had been housed during a great reception.

  Marshall had stepped to my side. He seemed to guess my mood although he was not able to perceive my actual thoughts because my mono-screen was up again.

  "I keep asking myself if I'm still a true Arkonide," I said abruptly. "John, other rulers before me would not have bypassed a coronation ceremony under any circumstances."