The Target Star Read online

  "Pucky!" cried Rhodan, while sending the mouse-beaver a mental call. "Pucky, are you still alright?"

  "I can still think, that's all. I can't move a muscle."

  "The green glow is also showing up down here. I think it would get us even if we left the ship. Are you able to concentrate for a teleport jump?"

  Only an impression of pain came back. Rhodan saw the Epsalian jump into the connecting lift to the machine rooms. He shoved off with such force that he shot upward like a projectile.

  "I'll try to get to the Control Central!" he shouted. But within seconds he was silenced. He had been gripped by the alien forcefield.

  Bell pulled Rhodan into a lateral passage. The shimmering green light was spreading slowly but when it engulfed a man it would immediately cause his body to start reacting strangely. Rhodan had an intuitive feeling that it had to do with a systematically-controlled molecular alteration of various organs in the body.

  A silence slowly descended over the test ship Fantasy. Calls and messages ceased to come over the speakers of the videophone intercom system and only a few last lingering cries could be heard from men who had been taken completely by surprise.

  Even Pucky had ceased to communicate, although to the sensitives on board, his stream of consciousness was still readily traceable. It was something like a tetanus attack that affected the whole body yet failed to suppress the thought processes.

  Rhodan, Bell and Marshall retreated farther into the remotest recesses of the spherical hull. It was evident that the mysterious radiations had started first at the level of the equatorial ring-bulge. The Arkonides seemed to know quite accurately that the most important elements of control and command were located there.

  Farther ahead, Stant Nolinow had frozen in a stooped position as he was trying in vain to drag a fallen airlock guard out of the danger zone. Rhodan toyed with the idea of getting out of the endangered ship so that he could try to destroy the alien projector which must certainly be out there somewhere but he immediately discarded it. Such an attempt could never succeed.

  But Bell had gathered his wits about him again. He stood helplessly in a remote corner and stared ahead as the green light came closer and closer. In a strangely calm voice he said: "Now we know what happens when they lose their patience. I'd have preferred having come to friendlier terms with them down there when they found out we were not Arkonides. These people with their super politeness! Do you see now how merciless they can be when they feel threatened?"

  "Who wouldn't be?" answered Rhodan, his fists clenched.

  Now even the last shouts of startled alarm had ceased to be heard. All upper sections of the ship must have been completely engulfed in the paralyzing light. The Fantasy. had become a giant wax museum in which only the machinery was still functioning, with all systems ready for takeoff. Only a single impulse was necessary to activate the pre-programmed emergency takeoff autopilot. Once it was activated, all else would be operated automatically.

  "Marshall, see if you can channel into me and strengthen my weaker psi output. Let's try to reach Pucky telepathically, in unison. He's in the Control Central. If he really can't do anything for us, then we're lost. Before long the Arkonides are going to gather us up like so many birds with broken wings. All Pucky has to do is shove down the emergency takeoff lever."

  "If he's no longer able to see anything, his telekinetic powers will be ineffectual," Marshall advised. They retreated some distance until their backs were against the unyielding armor-plate of the lock door. "He probably won't be able to turn his head anymore," John concluded. Nevertheless he locked in his formidable psi powers as Rhodan made a new attempt to call Pucky.

  Pucky, answer me. Pucky, can't you hear me? If you can still think, then answer!

  A clear thought returned:I hear you. I must have been out for a couple of seconds there. It hurts.

  Forget it, little one! Tell me—can you see the red activator lever for takeoff?

  No—my face is flat against this contour couch. I can't even move my tail.

  Alright, then try to get set for a short teleport jump. The switch is up above on that bevel-face cabinet for manual controls. You should know where that is. When I am in my flight seat the lever is just to the right of me. Do you remember?

  I know it alright but what should I do? Hurry, because I'm not going to be able to hold out much longer.

  The greenish glow had now engulfed the a desperate men as well. The strange pulling sensation began in their legs. At the moment of contact it was painful but then the feeling was superseded by a sensation of numbness. Within moments Rhodan felt his body become stiff and void of feeling. He managed to grip his left arm during the process and was able to feel the tissues growing hard. At first it was like cartilage but finally it became as hard as glass.

  In spite of this he could still think, see and hear. As his mouth became immovable and his tongue seemed to become a lump of lead, he projected his thoughts at their fullest intensity: Pucky, you must force yourself to make a teleport jump. It ought to work. It doesn't make any difference if you dematerialize with your body in this condition or if it's unpleasant for you to do it. The whole process should happen in any case if you try!

  Rhodan's para-senses detected a mental note of complaint but he continued more insistently. Pucky, you have to do it. Imagine the lever, its exact location and that it is moved from its raised position downward. It's sticking out of the panel horizontally now and it's quite long. If you can rematerialize right over it you will fall on it and you'll throw it into contact. Do you get that?

  The mouse-beaver was silent about a second before he answered. I get it. I'll give it a try. But no more interruptions—I'll need all my strength to concentrate.

  Rhodan gave up, exhausted. Within the ship not another voice was to be heard. There was only the continuing sound of running machinery—waiting...

  • • •

  In her headquarters, Auris of Las-Toor held her burning gaze on the large viewscreens. She knew what was happening inside the alien ship which was now completely enveloped by the conversion field. She could hear the sharp instructions in her earphones. A troop of robots was ordered into action. The fighter machines were to load the paralyzed Terranians onto the hovercraft and then wait for further instructions.

  Auris was thinking of the tall, lean man with his fascinating, mocking eyes. She should have warned him sooner. She did not know what it was that drew her to this stranger but she had the instinctive premonition that her destiny was somehow linked to his. He could not be a mere barbarian.

  She forced an impersonal smile to her lips as several members of the Ruling Council hurried past her in triumph.

  Outside the robots marched toward their target.

  • • •

  Pucky had finally managed to relax himself completely. His powers of visualization were bringing the switch into increasingly clearer focus. When he finally had a clear mental picture of the manual controls he exerted his final strength to build up the para-stable forces of his dematerialization field.

  His small brown furry body vanished from the contour couch and rematerialized in the same moment above the lever panel. Pucky could not see where he was falling. He only knew in that one hovering instant that he would have to drop at least a meter or so to the steel plates of the ship's deck. As he finally glided downward his unfeeling body slid across the beveled face to the switch cabinet. What would have been a painful impact under normal conditions was not registered by his benumbed body. The red lever was pressed downward by his weight and clicked home in the contact slot. But Pucky did not hear the sudden roar of the engines because he had passed out.

  The positronicon responded with perfect precision to its programming input which required it to put the cruiser into a 20 km/sec acceleration at takeoff and then to open up after reaching free space. The circuit signals of the synchromatic controls went out in the same fraction of a second. The inertial absorbers started to howl as the antigravs fr
eed the Fantasy from the gravitational grip of the fifth planet of Akon. The impulse streams flamed out of the ring-bulge jets.

  The robot contingent had just arrived but was crushed to powder in the titanic blast. The cruiser rose in a raging thunder and shot like a bullet into the sky. Without warning it broke away from the effective range of the greenish light and hurtled beyond the atmospheric envelope into outer space in a timespan of five seconds.

  The blinding sun-bright flash of an energy beam reached out from below but missed the Fantasy by a few kilometers. Then the synchromatic pilot opened the engines to maximum acceleration and before anyone on the surface of Sphynx had really grasped the situation the ship was gone. The propulsion units raged wide open and soon all was in order. Except that the men on board were not able to move a finger.

  • • •

  The synchromatic suddenly raised an alarm. The cycling sequence of the propulsion units had signaled for nuclear fuel injection and the autopilot system was not programmed for it.

  Rhodan heard the shrieking sound. Sensation was slowly creeping back into his limbs but before he could comprehend that he would now be entering a transitional period of pain he was startled by the sound of a deep, bellowing voice blasting from the speakers.

  "Commander to all hands. I'm back again in Control Central. Just hold in there and be patient—the paralysis will soon be over with. I'm not fit myself, yet. But I'm switching over to manual and activating the Kalup."

  The sudden thundering of the compensator filled Rhodan with such a sense of relief that it helped him over the attack of pains accompanying the phase-out of the paralysis. Claudrin was indispensable. His titan frame had managed to shake off the effects of the alien weapon in very short order. Before the crew members had been able to move again, Col. Jefe Claudrin had set up the linear flight mode and put it into operation.

  Saved! thought Perry in a transport of relief.

  At the same moment he was aware of a telepathic signal from John Marshall. "Now there's no one who can overtake us, sir. Where is Claudrin taking us?"

  "Who cares? The main thing is to get out of here. Those Arkonides finally started to show their teeth, didn't they?"

  John did not deign to answer the obvious. After a few more minutes, Rhodan regained control over his limbs. He dragged himself laboriously to the antigrav lift, where he met a number of other crew members who were recovering.

  His face was still taut with pain as he staggered into the Control Central and there sat the broad-shouldered Epsalian in his huge special flight seat, apparently as invincible as ever. Directly in front of him was the echo screen of the para-tracker, showing a yellow sun at the target center.

  He did not turn his head as he spoke. "Hang on, everybody! We're hitting a bump!"

  Rhodan fell to the deck as the Fantasy broke through the Blue System's mysterious energy screen and lost a large portion of its velocity. It only lasted a few seconds and then the outer void suddenly regained its traditional blackness, which they had been accustomed to seeing for more than a century.

  Reports started to come in from one ship station after the other. Dr. Gorl Nkolate appeared on the scene. He went over to Pucky's prostrate form without a word and felt of his unconscious body. Finally he carried him to a contour couch.

  "He's the one who did it for us, right?" asked Gorl.

  Rhodan nodded. "Get that little tyke back on his feet. Without him we would have been lost Claudrin, take it easy—we're not testing our maximum speed now. It's enough to just get away from the Arkonides."

  Finally it became quiet in the Control Central as the Fantasy flew its course at a million times the speed of light, heading for a star that Claudrin had instinctively picked at random.

  "I knew we were asking for it back there," said Bell as he finally ensconced himself in his contour chair. "There was bound to be trouble." His face looked grey and haggard but this was typical of everybody on board the cruiser.

  Rhodan didn't answer. He was thinking of the girl Auris and of her warning that had almost come too late. In spite of everything it was obvious she bad sought to help them and that was the only thing that mattered.

  Claudrin wondered about the smile that touched Rhodan's lips and appeared to relax and soften the hard angularity of his face.

  Operation Target Star was at an end. The only question remaining was what the accidental discovery of the Blue System would mean to the human race in the future.

  We'll make it, thought Perry. I'm sure we'll come through as we always have.

  The Fantasy hurtled onward through the zone of semi-space. Not even the Blue System had been able to capture it.

  THE TARGET STAR

  Copyright © Ace Books 1976

  Ace Publishing Corporation

  All Rights Reserved.