Conflict Center Naator Read online

  OPERATION: DESTRUCTORS

  DESTROY the Robot Brain!

  The Mechanical Mind... the Positronicon... the soulless Regent of Arkon.

  This is the mission of the Recruits for Arkon.

  But it is a task that cannot be undertaken nor rushed into madly. First mock battles must be fought and won, severe training undergone, commando war tactics perfected in a special Battle School.

  Naator!

  The staging arena for the conflict to come is—

  Perry Rhodan

  Atlan And Arkon #

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  Conflict Center: Naator

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  1/ RIGHT MAN, WRONG ADDRESS

  THE GIANT RED SUN stood high in the sky and shone down on the desert landscape. The sparse shrubbery cast very few shadows across the sandy ground which rose gently in this area and gradually became more rocky until it climbed abruptly over the steep slopes of a mountain range. When looking at this extensive chain of ridges from the West one would have been hard pressed to discern any breach or pass, yet there were valleys here through which merchant caravans had found their way in more peaceful times. They had been modem caravans, of course, with tractor vehicles and heavy cargo gliders.

  It was no time of peace now, however, on Zalit, the 4th planet of the Voga System. Nor was it a time of actual war. But just the near proximity of the Arkon System was threat enough. After all, what was a mere distance of three light-years?

  Under the rulership of a giant robot Brain, the stellar empire of the Arkonides was in need of fighting men. It obtained them from the colonial worlds which dared not offer any resistance to its demands. Arkon was reinforcing its mighty war fleet in order to attack an unknown planet that lay more than 30,000 light-years across the void. Unknown, that is, except for its name: Terra!

  On Zalit were many hiding places where able-bodied men of draft age had retreated in order to elude the search patrols of the Arkonides. There they lived and waited, not knowing when they might return to their homes again. But they had time on their side. As long as friends brought them food, they preferred the restrictions of a voluntary confinement to the Arkonide training camps on a world that would be alien to them.

  Arkon's war did not concern them but they did not dare to make an open rebellion. They knew full well that their own weak space fleet would have no chance against the Arkonide superships which were mostly manned by robots. Moreover, they could not rely on their Zarlt. The ruler of the Zalites had already grown old and maintained a good relationship with Arkon because he had no other choice.

  High up on one of the mountain peaks stood the lookout, a young man who exhibited the usual copper-hued hair of the Zalites. His skin was more red than brown and his clothing appeared to be too large for him. He had a good view of the desert toward the West and about 500 kilometers away in that direction lay Tagnor, the capital city of the planet. But the Arkonides and their robots were in Tagnor also. At the spaceport was their mobilization center and boot camp for Zalites who had been drafted into service. From here the recruits were evacuated to Arkon where their final training took place.

  Arkon's representative on Zalit was the Arkonide Admiral Calus, a shrewd and capable man but at the same time cruel and pitiless when it came to carrying out orders of the robot Brain. All of the hatred of the Zalites had been focused upon this one Arkonide official.

  The lonely sentinel on the mountaintop removed his gaze from the western horizon, beyond which lay Tagnor his hometown. His sharp eyes scanned the desert below but failed to discover any suspicious movement there. A few animals grazed on the slopes where there was still some grass.

  He stood on a small plateau area that was enclosed by a low wall. A rocky overhang concealed him from any curious eyes that might be above him—and it was very seldom that the gliders of the hated Arkonides patrolled low above the mountains in search of deserters.

  The Zalite smiled grimly to himself. So far his group had been very lucky. They numbered some 200 men, all of them draftable age. Chance had thrown them together and now they were determined to stay with each other until the Arkonides departed from Zalit.

  He tensed suddenly as he heard a noise on the rocky path that gave access to his position but then he relaxed when he realized it must be his relief guard. They had not yet chosen an official leader among them, since reason alone had thus far held them together and governed their existence. But if it had come to a vote it would certainly have been Cagrib, the man who was now coming to relieve him, who would have been selected as leader.

  "You happy now?" asked Cagrib as he came around the rock shoulder and satisfied himself with a glance that all was in order. "I hope the watch wasn't too long for you, Rhog."

  "Under the clear, open sky it would never be too long for me," declared the lonely guard, and he shook his head. It was a gesture which meant the same on Zalit as it would have on Earth. "As long as the weather holds up..."

  "We have some new information," the other interrupted him calmly. "Admiral Calus has just finished speaking." The Arkonide admiral spoke almost daily over all television transmitters on Zalit, always-announcing new and drastic measures he hoped to employ in the attainment of his goal. "Now even the older men are supposed to show up for conscription. Nobody is safe from them any more."

  Rhog narrowed his eyes. "We're safe here—but is that enough? Do you think we should just stand by and look on while our countrymen are subjugated and the young men are carried off into slavery? Why don't we do something?"

  Cagrib's eyes suddenly narrowed also. "What can we do? In your opinion do you think it would maybe be enough to assassinate this Calus? You have talked along those lines before. Don't you also think that they'll replace him with somebody else—somebody maybe worse than he is? So what could we gain from that?"

  Rhog leaned against the improvised parapet. "I don't know, I really don't. I'm only saying that we shouldn't remain idle. We ought to do something, even if its only purpose is to show our countrymen that they are not alone."

  Cagrib looked out at the clear sky. Only on the horizon was there an accumulation of clouds, as though it was about to rain there. "So it's Calus, is it...? Maybe he should really be done away with. I'll discuss it with the others. It wouldn't be too difficult to send one of us back into Tagnor... "

  "I'll go!" Rhog exclaimed, offering himself eagerly.

  But Cagrib rejected this. "No, Rhog, you're too hotheaded. They'd catch you, and you know anybody the Arkonides cross-examine with their psycho-detectors isn't going to keep any secrets. Hold off awhile—we have to consider this calmly and carefully."

  Rhog nodded and took leave of his friend, walking down the narrow pathway which led to their cavern hideout. He knew that a start had been made. At last this was the end of idle waiting. Something was going to be done!

  However, he failed to suspect that his group was on the verge of making that kind of fateful mistake which always precedes a catastrophe.

  • • •

  It was a strictly private mistake within the group, after a thorough consultation, to still dispatch Rhog to carry out the planned assassination. He knew Tagnor and its hiding places best and had always claimed to have good connections with the Zarlt's palace. Some of his friends were supposed to be members of the ruler's private guard. Through them he could get some valuable tips as to the current location of the Admiral.

  Actually the fatal mistake lay in the fact that they were preparing to eliminate the greatest friend the Zalites had. Of course these conscientious objectors could not know this because they were logical thinkers—yet their logic didn't reach far enough.

 
It took them a full day to change Rhog's outward appearance. Although it was true that even oldsters were not protected anymore from the reach of the military draft board, a younger man would have been much more likely to cause suspicion. Rhog's pass was altered also, and although it was still made out in the same name as before, the carrier's age and description could have been that of Rhog's grandfather.

  Another problem was the trip to Tagnor. The underground tube train couldn't be used because there were constant checkpoints at the exits which would make discovery a strong likelihood. The rebels had no personal vehicles at their disposal. So the only thing remaining was the caravan route that lay some 200 kilometers to the south. There it might be possible that someone would give him a lift.

  "You'll have to get a move on," advised Cagrib matter of factly and he shook his head. "Let's hope the exertion won't be too much for you. Unfortunately we can't risk the only glider we've got. It's our only means of contact with the outside world."

  "I could set it down outside of Tagnor," suggested Rhog.

  "What—and lose it?" Cagrib continued to shake his head. "Besides, that way they'd be able to trace you more quickly. No, you'll have to choose the hard way. You would be less conspicuous in a caravan and that's the way to get into the city. I don't see any other alternative."

  Rhog submitted to the plan. He had to accept it if he were to avoid having them withdraw the assignment. Because he wanted to be the one to free Zalit and his people from the tyrant.

  Three days after the brief conversation on the mountaintop, Rhog set out on his way, a lone traveller with meager provisions. He turned toward the south where the mountain pass was to be found and the merchant caravans came through. It was the only place in this region where there was a passable valley. 200 kilometers lay before him.

  To the right at a distance of 500 kilometers lay Tagnor. To the left, over the mountain tops and beyond the desert, was Larg. There Rhog also had friends but he did not know whether they were already on their way to Arkon or not. Help...? No, he shouldn't count on it too much. He was left to his own resources.

  The reddish gleaming sun crept above the mountain range and climbed swiftly higher. His bundle of provisions began to weigh heavily. He also felt the weight of the small weapon in his pocket. He did not know how Cagrib had gotten possession of it, nor had he questioned him about it. It was probably of Arkonide design. The small energy accumulator in its handle would be good for two or three deadly ray shots. After that the needle beam pistol would be worthless if a refill cartridge were not available. And there was no refill!

  To his right the desert stretched out to the horizon. It appeared to be endless, as though it kept on going forever, yet just beyond it lay Zalit's greatest city with three million inhabitants and the greatest spaceport on the planet.

  Rhog kept close to the mountains in order to be able to take cover quickly in case an Arkonide air patrol should appear. He would be able to get into the nearby rocks and disappear with just a few steps. Maybe it would be better to travel at night, he thought, because he could hardly go astray if he followed the edge of the hills. The whole chain ran precisely in a north-south direction. But at night the bloodthirsty Hhrack were also about. They were four-footed beasts of prey and had often been used as such in the fighting arena. Once he had seen such a cat-like monster tear a gladiator apart and since then he had not gone back to the arena.

  Noon passed and evening came. He searched for one of the numerous eaves where he might spend the night. He calculated that he had put a good 40 kilometers behind him today. Within another four or even three days he would be at his destination. Then he would only have to travel west on the caravan highway where he was sure he could get a lift. Nobody would ask him what he wanted to do in Tagnor. And there was little fear that Arkonides would attack them here in the desert.

  He slept restlessly and awoke several times because he thought he heard noises. Finally he saw the dawn light in the cave entrance and proceeded to prepare a light breakfast, after which he got under way again. In his heart was a burning desire to be a hero to his people by saving them from the Arkonide admiral. Even if it should cost him his life...

  On this second day he put more than 60 kilometers behind him but he sensed that he was going to have to have a longer rest period if he didn't want to break down somewhere on the following day. The long time of waiting made itself felt. One tended to get out of shape.

  It was dark already when he began to search for a cave. It was possible that the terrain was unfavorable and that no caves would be found here. A steep cliff wall towered upward several hundred meters before it sloped back.

  Rhog groped along this wall in the hopes of finding a sheltering crevice of some kind where he could sleep without fear of being devoured by the Hhracks. To his right the last glimmer of the setting sun died out. The first stars of the evening only dispensed a feeble light. No moon was to be seen.

  Rhog stopped. Wasn't that a noise—a sound that quite definitely had not been imagined? A hoarse panting, the scraping of claws on rock...? He stood there motionlessly, leaning against the cliff and listening. As though of its own accord, the small weapon had glided into his hand. Before falling victim to some beast of prey he would expend one of the gun's valuable energy charges.

  Silence. The darkness of the night deepened around him. Yet he knew that after a brief transition it would grow brighter. Zalit's sun, Voga, was close to the center of the galaxy. The night sky would be ablaze with enough stars to cast dim shadows.

  There was no sound to be heard. He must have been mistaken.

  Rhog moved forward again. His left hand lightly brushed along the face of the cliff wall, which seemed unusually smooth. No sign of a cave. If he had only started looking for a shelter before nightfall! Now he could possibly wander around here for hours.

  He almost fell when his hand suddenly found no resistance and pushed out into emptiness. He transferred his weight just in time to keep his balance. The rock wall receded here and five meters beyond the indentation he found that it continued endlessly. In between, however...

  Rhog had almost given up hope of finding even a small niche in the wall but here was something quite unexpected. He readjusted his pack of provisions and groped his way into the narrow passage, which turned out to be a small canyon. He had expected to get to the end of it quickly but was in for a surprise. True, the walls converged slightly, leaving a 4-meter gap between them, but then they fell away from each other—in fact very far away. Rhog could no longer see them although the night had brightened considerably.

  Instead of a closed wall of rock, from what he could make out he was facing a wide, flat area. It lay here in the mountains like a deep basin surrounded by cliffs. Above was a circular section of sky where thousands of stars could be seen. The locked valley had a diameter of at least 500 meters.

  Was that a fire flickering over there? It must be burning inside a cave because there were only flitting shadows to be seen.

  Rebels? Conscientious objectors? Perhaps some of his friends?

  He was seized by a sudden hope. Throwing caution to the winds, he moved toward the flickering fire. He had to admit that this group had selected an excellent place of concealment. It was sheer coincidence that he had discovered the entrance at all.

  Then suddenly he knew what they were: freight vehicles such as were used for transporting merchandise through the desert. Using such equipment was the only alternative to the more expensive method of transport by air.

  He had chanced upon a caravan camp.

  But he had also come to a stop. A caravan?—here, so far north? The wide valley that was the regular pass through the mountains still lay a good 100 kilometers to the South. Why should a caravan make such a detour merely to spend the night?

  There was something strange about this caravan, that was for sure.

  But caution was only necessary in regard to Arkonides. The most he could encounter here would be some extension of Zalite c
ivilian authority from which nothing was to be feared. There was only one way to find out what was going on. With his right hand on the butt of his weapon, he crept toward the fire which was still hidden from direct view by outcroppings of rock.

  A loud voice suddenly rang out close behind him: "If I were you, friend, I'd stand still and put my hands in the air, real slow. It's much too dangerous to sneak up on a campfire at night without announcing yourself."

  Rhog stiffened. Slowly and carefully he pulled his right hand out of his pocket to show that it was empty and he raised it simultaneously with his left hand. Somebody stepped up from behind and relieved him of the needle beamer.

  "Very good, my friend. But now we must still find out who this is who travels by night in the desert. You'd better think up a very likely story. All right, get moving...!"

  Rhog stumbled toward the rock outcropping that obscured the flickering fire.

  • • •

  The city of Tagnor had the semblance of an armed camp. Everywhere one encountered the robot patrols of the Arkonides. Whoever was caught without a valid draft card would have to expect to be arrested. Actually there were only a few men to be seen. Pedestrians in the streets consisted mainly of tall, slender Zalite women with reddish-gleaming hair.

  To the right of the broad avenue leading to the cone-shaped palace of the Zarlt, the arena lay empty and deserted. No war games had taken place here for a long time, even though the arena's entrepreneur and manager had not been conscripted by the Arkonides. This man, named Garak, still apparently made every effort to scare up wild animals and gladiators wherever he could.

  He had just returned from Larg where he had gotten a few things under way which would certainly have

  interested Admiral Calus very much. Satisfied with both himself and Zalit, Garak hurried down into his subterranean hideout in the catacombs of the arena. He took a careful look around before disappearing into the broad passage that led steeply into the depths.