The Psycho-Duel Read online

  "That’s right, sir!" exclaimed Suwari, surprised. "It probably means grenade."

  "Get going with the transition coordinates for Zalit right away," ordered the Commodore. "let’s not come out too close to the system. Just make it the usual distance. Meanwhile we’ll make contact with Tate on the hypercom. He has his own code call and also he has his own remote unit that can pick up from his main receiver so that he can replay whatever’s come in, even when he’s not at home. He should know that we’re coming."

  Radio messages were sent out from the Troy to the other ships. In the case of the Terran vessels the various commanders received their instructions directly whereas there was no one on board the robot warships to register orders—other than lifeless positronic machines.

  About an hour later the task force went into transition. Wayne Tate had been advised and the agent had assured them that he would join Henno as soon as the spaceships emerged from hyperspace. As soon as the pains of dematerialization had subsided, Fellman got back on the hypercom to talk to Tate again.

  "Hold on a few minutes yet, Lt. Tate. After a briefing with the squadron staff I’ll he issuing the final operation orders."

  "Very well, sir," answered the agent.

  Fellman turned to Suwari. "Notify the robots that we’re moving in on Zalit," he said. "After our briefing, tell them to be ready."

  Like every officer of the Solar Fleet, Fellman knew that the robotships, of the Arkonides were not as manoeuvrable as the Terran units. One reason for this was the lack of a human crew but probably the main reason was the need for the robot vessels to always double-check with the positronic Regent on Arkon 3.

  Suwari went into the Com Room to give MacDanies the necessary instructions. However, the African came back very quickly. Fellman was in the process of studying a surface chart of Zalit but he interrupted his work when he sensed Suwari’s uneasiness.

  The Commodore’s heavy brows came together. "What’s the matter?" he asked.

  "Sir, they don’t answer!" exclaimed the First Officer, obviously confused. Fellman’s expression hardly changed. He shoved the map back into the chart rack of the Nav desk and stared openly at Suwari. "I don’t quite understand," he said calmly.

  "The robotships haven’t answered—they won’t confirm the orders to move against Zalit!" said Suwari swiftly. "MacDanies tried everything. They must have received our messages but they don’t respond."

  "But that’s impossible!" Fellman retorted. "Sparks!" he shouted at the open Com Room. "Is something wrong with your equipment?"

  MacDanies thrust his bristly head through the door and stared anxiously at his chief. "My gear is in top shape, sir," he insisted. He sounded as though nothing in the world could shake him from that conviction. Fellman nodded to Suwari and they moved in unison toward the Com Room. Suwari could virtually feel the eyes of the other men on them as they left the Command Central of the Troy.

  "Alright, Sparks," ordered Fellman. "Let’s try it again." Sparks went through the usual operation once more at his panels. They listened for awhile without getting any response. "There, you can see for yourself, sir," said the radio man almost sullenly. "Not the slightest squeak of an answer!"

  Fellman ran a hand through his straight blond hair while avoiding the helpless look from Suwari. "Try another kind of message, Sparks," he ordered. "Ask them what the devil’s going on!" He had to admit that the situation was making him uneasy. If living men were there in those command centrals instead of robots, maybe they might have gotten an explanation by now. But all they were dealing with was mindless positronicons that operated on commands from the Regent. Cybernetic operations had always been a problem for Fellman and he couldn’t imagine what was causing the robotships to act this way. After all, Rhodan had expressly advised the Fleet that Atlan’s robotships were to serve as backup to the Solar Fleet and that they were under the orders of Terran commanders. But now something had happened where the chapeks refused to answer a radio call and they seemed to be following some unknown command of the mammoth Brain on Arkon 3.

  MacDanies interrupted his thoughts after a few moments. "They won’t answer that one, either, sir," he announced.

  "I presume that it’s only due to some temporary interference," remarked the Commodore. "In any case we will fly to Zalit without any further delay."

  Fellman’s orders went from ship to ship and were confirmed. It was only the Arkonide ships that remained silent.

  "The main thing is that they stay with us," commented Fellman, "whether they answer or not." The Troy slowly separated from the formation and its mighty engines began to turn on power. The 6 light cruisers followed after the larger ship.

  Suwari had been watching the scanners and now he shouted to Fellman. "The robots aren’t following us, sir! They haven’t moved."

  Fellman had the Troy slow down. On the viewscreens the great battleships were easily discernible. Fellman was aware of a growing sense of impending disaster. He racked his brains for an explanation.

  "It looks as if they don’t want to follow us to Zalit, sir," said Viceroy, the officer in charge of the positronics.

  Fellman nodded. "But I’m wondering why," he answered despondently. Then he hardened his resolve.

  "We have orders to put down the revolution on Zalit—and that is exactly what we’re going to do, gentlemen!" he announced. "We’ll do it with or without the support of those robots!" He heard a murmur of agreement from the men who had always felt an unspoken antipathy toward the Arkonide ships. Fellman knew that all members of the Solar Fleet were anxious for a chance to prove that they were superior to these bloodless war machines. And when he looked deeply into himself the Commodore had to admit that he was no different from the rest.

  "Let’s leave them sitting there," he ordered.

  Not a muscle quivered in Suwari’s dark face as he took over the flight controls of the Troy. In general, however, the African was temperamental, in contrast to Fellman.

  "Increase engines to full—" Fellman was interrupted in the middle of his command as the Troy shuddered under the impact of a sudden blow. The Commodore was thrown sideways and he collided with the navigation console.

  "They’re firing at us!" yelled Suwari excitedly. "They’ve opened up on us!" It only took Fellman the fraction of a second to realize that his First Officer referred to the robotships. The disaster he had been suspecting all along had suddenly broken upon them in full force. What had happened was an atrocity. Spaceships of the allied Imperator Gonozal VIII, otherwise known as Atlan, had opened fire on them—warships which had been assigned to support the Terrans in any and all operations.

  It was incredible. Everything in Fellman’s nature strove to resist accepting the event as factual. But the dim presentiment grew in him that this was only a part of it—only a fragment belonging to a larger framework that cast a threatening shadow as far as the Earth itself.

  "Apparently they want to stop us from going to Zalit!" called Viceroy as he got to his feet next to the indicator consoles. The impact had knocked him down and his lean face was still trembling. To Fellman it was clear that the Regent was behind this action because the ships’ positronic brains could never have directed such a manoeuvre without checking first with Arkon 3. For some reason or another the Regent had changed tactics and decided to withdraw its support of the Terran ships. In fact it was even ready to attack Terran fleet units if they wanted to engage in any action within its sphere of influence. Fellman wondered how Atlan the Imperator would proceed in the face of this development. At the same time the Commodore had an awakening urge to resist this unexpected attack. Yet he was trusting that the one jolt they had received was only a warning shot because of course his 7 ships would not be able to withstand a sudden mass bombardment from all of the robot warships. In fact, simple logic told Fellman that in case of a battle his chances for a victory were hopeless. He had to suppress his anger. He carried the responsibility for many hundreds of crewmen and he was not ready to rashly gamble their
lives.

  "Let’s break up the operation and pull back," he ordered. "Suwari, make a check for damages immediately and give me a report."

  MacDanies staggered out of the Com Room, still holding his hands to his head. "They finally answered us, sir," he said grimly and with pointed sarcasm. "I hope we’re not going to wait around too long before we send them our reply—and I don’t mean by radio!"

  Fellman regarded his Com Officer critically. "Sparks, if you’re hankering for a space battle then maybe you’d better climb into a combat suit and take over this command." MacDanies brought his fist down resoundingly on the Nav console. His face reddened with anger.

  "Sir—don’t tell me you’re going to just stand by and take that attack with no answering fire!"

  "Against the overwhelming odds we wouldn’t have a chance," Fellman replied, matter-of-factly. MacDanies became aware of the bone bruise on his hand. He massaged it ruefully and turned back to the Com Room without another word.

  "That Scotch-Irish temper of his blew a fuse again," said Viceroy as if seeking to make excuses for the radio man.

  Followed by the 6 light cruisers, the Troy withdrew from the Zalit area without hindrance from the robot formation which still remained motionless in space. Fellman set up a hypercom contact with Terrania in order to report the incident personally to Rhodan. That was when the Commodore learned that similar events were occurring everywhere in M-13 and that the Administrator was issuing general orders for all Terran ships to return to the Sol System. Fellman called for transition coordinates and headed his small squadron back toward Earth.

  Just prior to the first transition he made a last hypercom contact with the agent, Tate, in order to give him an exact picture of the situation. It was the beginning of a development that would ultimately lead to a test of strength against the robot Regent. Under normal circumstances, Earth wouldn’t have a chance.

  • • •

  Thus Tate concluded his report to Henno. "So it’s pretty unlikely that we’re going to get any help," he said. "I don’t think the robotships will come here on their own. Something’s gone wrong with the giant Brain on Arkon 3."

  Like most Arkonides, Henno had always placed a blind trust in the Regent, for after all it had guided the destinies of the race over an unthinkable period of centuries. "Well, certainly there is a logical explanation for everything," he replied.

  "It’s not our place to try figuring it out," the agent reminded him. "We have other things to do. The only question is whether or not you’re with me."

  Henno felt inspired by the inner strength of this man. He felt confident that with Tate he could face any struggles to come. "What will we do?" he asked.

  "Do you still want to try for that robotship at the spaceport?" asked Tate. Henno unfastened the money purse from his belt and waved it in front of Tate. "I think that this will help us to do a lot of things," he smiled. "Whether at the spaceport or anywhere else you may want to begin your work."

  "The three of us," replied Tate quietly as he patted T.L.C. "We’ll set this planet on its ear if we have to." Nor did Henno doubt for a minute that the Terran was capable of doing just that...

  2/ EPETHUS—DISASTER KEY

  There is an old proverb that says one never sees the worth of something until it is gone. Undoubtedly there were many people in the Greater Imperium who knew how to evaluate the Regent and its work but the majority merely took its activities for granted. One accepted it like the sun or a natural moon which simply belonged. For many Arkonides the existence of the mammoth positronicon was taken so much for granted that they no longer saw the robot Brain as a giant machine. To them it was merely a well-oiled part of the Imperial machinery and was integral to the natural state of affairs. In other words, with but few exceptions the Arkonides had fallen into a state of complete dependence upon the Regent. For such men Atlan was merely an unimportant figurehead, a representative without political significance, a futile strawman who submitted to the will of the Brain. However there were some who were only too well aware of Atlan’s real significance and the nature of his tasks. These men knew the scope of influence that was wielded by the Imperator. The important commands and decisions came from him and not at all from the Regent. Atlan was actually a key figure and with the robot Brain behind him he represented a mighty factor of power. Of course the people who understood the political position of Gonozal VIII were anything but happy with the situation—on the contrary; their total efforts were aimed at overthrowing Atlan and bringing to power a man chosen from their own ranks.

  In the camp of the underground movement it was a foregone conclusion that whoever was to overthrow the Imperator must first get the Regent out of the way. Thus in connection with the repeated attempts against Gonozal VIII a mysterious attack against the giant Brain had also occurred. With the help of one of their transmitters, 8 Akons had penetrated the interior of the Regent and proceeded to go to work at their leisure, until Rhodan had moved in and eliminated their receiving station. However, before Rhodan could subject the 8 intruders to questioning, the Regent had destroyed them with its automatic weapons. All that remained were a few incomprehensible fragments of their equipment. So far no one knew whether or not the Akons had succeeded in programming the Brain according to their own designs.

  But then came the evidence that the attack must have succeeded because the Regent started to make decisions which caused the very foundations of empire to tremble—both in the Greater Imperium and the Solar Empire.

  • • •

  The man who stepped gravely in front of the lighted star map was accustomed to making decisions which were of far-reaching significance for all of humanity. From a physical standpoint he seemed to be young and supple but his eyes contradicted this first impression. In their grey depths gleamed an older wisdom and knowledge which made him eminently suitable for the position of First Administrator, who guided the destiny of the Solar Imperium.

  Perry Rhodan removed the light pointer from its case beside the map. He used the beam to point out various dark-red spots on the chart. "In these areas," he said, "we have an unusually strong concentration of our fleet task forces. You all know why this has been done. This deployment is based on strategic considerations."

  He turned around and scanned his audience of top-ranking officers and leading officials. "Moreover, we must admit that it’s been in our self-interests to do so because our main forces are everywhere where it’s necessary to demonstrate to Springers and other races that we are not asleep and that we’re ready at any time to defend ourselves against attack. In the past few months it has developed that Arkonide robot units joined us in support of our various fleet groups. With Atlan’s help, a military merging of the 2

  Imperiums was in its full course."

  The light pointer in the Administrator’s sinewy hand described an inclusive circle. "This development, gentlemen, brought us to the point of being too sure of ourselves. We dropped our guard a little and we concerned ourselves with trivial things when compared to the present situation. So now we’re facing the consequences." He shook his head slightly. "We all know that we can’t blame Atlan for it, but it seems that the 8 Akon saboteurs who got into the Regent were successful, after all. At least we know the robot Brain is acting very strangely. All over the galaxy the robotships are pulling back from our fleet units or they refuse to take part in patrolling missions. In one case a Terran ship was even fired at. The robots dropped a warning shot across the Troy when it was following orders to fly to Zalit and put down a revolution. Since then I’ve received a detailed report from Commodore Fellman." Reginald Bell shouted angrily from the rear of the room. "We ought to put the Regent in his place again!" There was a murmur of agreement as many of the men turned to nod their heads at him. Rhodan raised both hands in rejection. "We mustn’t allow ourselves to overact, gentlemen. If we don’t proceed with caution now we’ll pay for it later."

  Allan D. Mercant, the Chief of Intelligence, had a question. "Have you ar
rived at any conclusions yet as to what we might do?"

  "Of course," said Rhodan. "It’s no longer a secret to anyone in the galaxy that the robotships have stopped responding to our commands. That leaves us facing 2 problems. Various interstellar races could think we’ve been weakened to the point where they may try new infringements. But that’s not the main danger, which is the Regent himself. If he is drawing his ships back in spite of Atlan’s counter commands, it’s entirely possible that he is planning an attack against Terra." Rhodan’s words were followed by an oppressive silence because every man present was well aware of what a surprise attack by Arkon’s robot fleets could mean. The Solar Fleet was still no match for that kind of concentrated military power.

  "All we can do at the moment is to keep bolstering up and tightening our security," continued Rhodan.

  "A general order has gone out to all units of the Fleet to return at once to the Sol System. At present our ships are racing home from all sections of the galaxy in order to build up a heavy defence ring around the Earth."

  The Administrator replaced the light pointer and faced the men with folded arms. His bronzed features wore a slightly pensive expression. "After due deliberation I find it necessary to declare an emergency and to place the Solar Imperium under a top alert condition," he said. He waited to see if anyone would oppose his suggestion but no one raised his voice. Every man present knew Rhodan well enough to know that his experience gave him a special overview of all eventualities. If the Administrator felt that a top alert should be declared, then there could be no doubt that he was right. Rhodan revealed further plans. "We’re going to call up all reserves—more than 100 million trained spacemen. I hope we’ll never have to send them against the most powerful military force in the galaxy, meaning the Regent."

  When Rhodan looked into the eyes of his colleagues he saw the same wish reflected there. Each of them was a determined fighter but none was so blind that he couldn’t picture how an attack by the Arkonide robot fleet would end. It would be the destruction of the Earth.