The Starless Realm Read online

  "Hm-m-m... I see. Thanks, Colonel."

  As Bell cut the connection he felt the vibrations increasing in the deck plates under his feet. In a few more seconds the engines would fire and the Drusus would lift off without inertial effects and pick up velocity as it headed for outer space.

  Bell had almost forgotten to put on his uniform, so concentrated were his thoughts at the moment. It was only in the last moment that he realized he was still in his pyjamas. And that would have been all Pucky needed...!

  When he entered the Command Central five minutes later, Arkon 3 was by now only a gleaming ball. The sun of Arkon was coming into the field of vision on the screens. Sikerman only turned to look at him briefly, after which he dedicated himself again to his complex tasks at the flight console. Rhodan sat in one of the command chairs and observed the panob screens.

  "What's going on, Perry?" asked Bell. "How come the early blastoff?"

  Rhodan briefed him on the situation and concluded: "Unfortunately the Immortal didn't give us It’s position coordinates, so we need the robot brain on Venus. That will cost us almost an extra day. Is it possible that an omniscient entity can be absentminded?"

  Bell had no answer for that one. He was by no means omniscient. Although Rhodan's information relieved him somewhat he had a hunch that he didn't hesitate to express. "That incident indicates that the

  Immortal can reach us at any time, yet It never knows where we are. Doesn't that seem paradoxical?"

  "Not at all, Bell. Its telepathic range is unlimited, that much we know. On the other hand,It can only receive our thoughts when we're concentrating on It. When that happens, maybe It’s able to determine direction and distance. If so, It must know from our intensive thoughts about It that we've gotten under way."

  In a firm voice, Col. Baldur Sikerman announced: "Transition in 10 minutes!"

  Nobody paid much attention to him. A jump through hyperspace was commonplace. The pressure absorbers would take up all traces of inertial shock, and only the pulling pains of rematerialization would indicate that they had put thousands of light-years behind them in a single second.

  "I didn't pick up the Immortal's message myself," reflected Bell. "Nary a whisper." He sounded as though he'd been left out.

  Rhodan nodded. "I've been thinking about that," he confessed. "Only the telepaths received the impulses, with quite unpleasant side effects. The Immortal must have 'broadcast' the message in such a way that only sensitives could pick it up. And, I believe, with good reason. Not everyone was supposed to hear it. Since It knows that I'm a weak telepath, and that other than myself there are only a few Terranians who can read thoughts, after we were located, I suspect nobody other than ourselves on board the Drusus received the balance of the message."

  "From over 30,000 light-years away—I'd say that was a pretty good output!" exclaimed Bell appreciatively. "So what happens now?"

  "We'll know soon enough what It wants from us. It appears that It needs our help. Hm-m-m... it's actually a bit elevating to know that an Immortal Being requires our assistance."

  Sikerman's voice interrupted the conversation: "Still eight minutes to transition."

  Bell watched the viewscreen with indifference, as Arkon became considerably smaller. The Drusus was just gliding past the Imperium's ring of satellite fortresses at three-quarters the speed of light. Recognition signals were being exchanged automatically over the data link transceivers. "The Immortal needs our help, otherwise It wouldn't have turned to us. OK, so It needs our help. But now comes the question: 'Why?' I think I might have a good idea..."

  Unfortunately no one ever found out Bell's suspicion. In the midst of his last sentence he turned from the screens and faced Rhodan again. He became speechless when he noted the latter's facial expression. Rhodan's eyes met his.

  "What is it?" asked Bell in tense wonderment. "Wanderer...?"

  Rhodan nodded but otherwise he gave no answer.

  "Another five minutes to transition!" announced Sikerman. He had not noticed the incident because of his concentration on the flight panel.

  Bell remained silent. He kept watching Rhodan who still sat in his chair but appeared to be withdrawn into himself. Almost at the same time the door opened and John Marshall came rushing into the Command Central. With the usual swirl of air, teleporter Pucky materialized and hopped over to his couch near Rhodan's seat. "This time it hardly affected me," stammered Marshall. He was visibly amazed that he hadn't been knocked out again. "Did you hear it also, sir?"

  Rhodan shook off the trance that held him. "Yes, I sensed the new message. I also hope you picked it up so that we can compare notes. The position of Wanderer was repeated three times. Col. Sikerman—write this down: PB-ZH-97H. Do you have it?"

  "That's it to a hair!" chirped Pucky, as he leaned back against the wall.

  Marshall also confirmed the correctness of the data. Sikerman was troubled. "Transition in three minutes, sir. Do you have new instructions?"

  "Yes! Stop the transition! You have new course data now," Rhodan told him. Then he turned to Bell. "That was an order we got from Wanderer this time. It was a straight command—no doubt about it."

  "Command? What kind of command?"

  "We are not to fly to Venus but directly to Wanderer. The artificial planet's position was given."

  "And that happened while I was talking?"

  "Marshall and Pucky also picked up the message. I presume that Betty and Ishy are also aware..."

  As Rhodan seemed to hesitate, Bell asked, "What's so strange, Perry? The command?"

  "No, not that so much; but the way of transmitting it so that only telepaths could receive it is extraordinary. On previous occasions, everybody on board the ship was aware of the Immortal's communications."

  Col. Sikerman canceled the transition and shoved the new coordinates into the nav-computer. After a short time the tape strip containing the readout of the new transition data glided out onto the console desk. He then processed it into the course-commit programming.

  Within two minutes he announced: "We can go into a new transition within five minutes. Four hyper jumps to target area. Distance—"

  "OK, Colonel, spare me the details. How long will it take us including the gap times between jumps?"

  "Twenty hours, sir."

  Rhodan looked at the clock. "Wake me up in 90 minutes. I'll be in my cabin."

  Bell watched him in some perplexity until he had exited. "He's mighty uptight today," he commented, nudging Marshall in the ribs. "Now, my friend, give me the lowdown on what this old Methuselah on Wanderer wants from us. Did It really hand out a command? Any hint at all of what the hassle is?"

  Pucky gurgled out a chuckle from his couch. "Good old Bell isn't very nosy now, is he? He might even have been a telepath himself by now if he hadn't misspent his spare time in Terrania. I don't think we should let him in on this top-drawer stuff. Right, Marshall?"

  John Marshall shrugged. "What's the big secret, Pucky? We don't know anything, ourselves—only that we are to proceed without delay to Wanderer, a mysterious synthetic world which takes millions of years to orbit around an unknown center point. As to what is waiting there for us... maybe Rhodan knows?"

  • • •

  "Nobody knows—unfortunately," muttered Pucky, and he rolled into a ball on the couch for a nap.

  Somewhat peeved and distracted, Bell silently left the Command Central.

  2/ INTO THE "GREAT BEYOND"

  Prior to the fourth and last transition, Rhodan entered the Control Central. The final preparations and countdown were in process. In a few seconds the die would be cast. They all had but one thought: would it work this time? Would they reach the target and not miss it as they had that time before?

  Rhodan's face was expressionless, as the universe outside vanished and then appeared to reform itself again. In this single second the Drusus had covered more than 5,000 light-years, The stars became visible again. They gleamed coldly and impersonally and yet each was the mot
her of all life on its family of planets. The constellations were strange to Rhodan but he saw Wanderer immediately.

  The artificial planet was a flat disc covered by a hemispherical energy screen. It existed in another space and time. One could only detect it by means of the newly developed time-tracker equipment, with which its location was also determined. Similar to a radar operation, the search beams depicted it on the special screen.

  "The coordinates check out," announced Sikerman. "Everything seems to be in order."

  Rhodan nodded. "At least Wanderer still exists. Set your course for it, Colonel. Do you have the distance?"

  Sikerman glanced at his instrument panel. "12 light-minutes, sir. The Drusus is already decelerating."

  Rhodan was just turning away when Sikerman added: "The engines, sir...! They've shut off. I haven't—"

  Rhodan had come to a halt. "Not unusual when you consider we're expected. The Immortal has relieved us of the landing task. OK, then shut down. I don't think we'll need any retro-propulsion from here on in. And just relax. From this point on the thinking will be done for us."

  Bell entered the Command Central. Apparently he had slept through the final transition. But a single glance at the screen served to bring him up to date. "Aha!" he exclaimed in a tone that excluded all doubt. "We are there!"

  "Even more so than you think," confirmed Rhodan, and he informed him that they were being remotely controlled. Then he added: "I'm wondering why It couldn't have fetched us directly from Arkon. Does it mean that It also has limitations?"

  They listened involuntarily for a moment but the Immortal did not react to the question.

  "Oh well now," said Bell generously, "30,000 light-years or so—that's a neat little distance. It wouldn't be able to handle that."

  "What can’t It handle?" somebody with a chirpy tone asked behind him.

  Bell whirled around and stared at Pucky. Suddenly the mouse-beaver was simply there. No one had seen his arrival. But this was no great feat for a teleporter. Pucky had just materialized in the room.

  "Can't you get over the habit of frightening innocent people?" Bell shouted at him angrily. "Any half-decent teleporter should at least announce himself with a shimmer cloud."

  "What can’t It handle, I asked. Well...?"

  It was so unusual for Pucky not to retort to Bell's protest that even Rhodan was startled. He turned to observe the mouse-beaver carefully but he could not notice anything unusual about him.

  "Cheeky little carrot-monger!" snorted Bell, incensed.

  "Super belly!" came the retort, finally, but at the same time something happened that was impossible.

  For within a meter or so from Pucky,Pucky materialized. With a slight swirl of air the mouse-beaver emerged from nothingness. The sight of two mouse-beavers, identical to a hair, was so astounding that Bell retreated in consternation until he bumped into a chair.

  "What... what...?" he groaned while his face went chalk white as he stared from one Pucky to the other. Then speech failed him.

  Rhodan thought swiftly and logically. The materialization of the second Pucky had been accompanied by an air disturbance as usual but this had not occurred in the case of the first mouse-beaver. In addition he noted the expression of boundless amazement on the face of #2 Pucky. The real Pucky was far too shaken by the sight of his incarnate likeness to produce a single sound. With widened eyes and gaping mouth he stared at his twin brother.

  "Welcome on board, old friend," said Rhodan as he made a slight bow in the direction of Pucky #1 who naturally was none other than a thought-materialization of the Immortal. "But you might have selected another form in which to appear."

  "I'm sure your friend Bell would have much preferred Stella Rallas, that beautiful dream actress. But to answer your question: I am not omnipotent, Perry Rhodan. It was no easy task to find you. But now that you're here I am very much relieved. You must help me."

  "I? Help you ?" Rhodan did not conceal his wonderment. "How am I supposed to help you, an immortal?"

  It was an eerie experience for Rhodan to have to speak in this manner to the image of Pucky, who still stood in the same spot, completely unnerved, only gradually comprehending the joke that the Immortal had allowed Itself to play on him and Bell.

  "You will find out, my friend." Pucky's double grinned, thus revealing a duplicate of the renowned incisor tooth. "As soon as your ship has landed you will come to me with this little fellow and your other mutant, Wuriu Sengu. A task lies before you, Rhodan. It will not be easy to solve the problem—but you will do it."

  The real Pucky began to recover. The first thing he did was to close his gaping mouth. The incisor disappeared. Then he took a deep breath. After composing himself inwardly he said: "Even the bare spot on the tail is there!" There was admiration in his voice. "That's where I came too close to an electro-oven one time. I just can't imagine...!"

  His double nodded with the exact characteristic of expression that everyone had become accustomed to with the real Pucky. "I've copied you precisely, little friend. I could have duplicated Bell just as well, naturally, but in view of his greater bulk it would have caused me greater exertion—and I have to preserve my energies."

  "Preserve?" interjected Rhodan. "Are you having new difficulties?"

  "No, but semispace..."

  Rhodan understood. For the Immortal perhaps that other adventure had only occurred a second ago, or maybe a minute or two. But it actually lay several years in the past by now.

  "What am I to do for you?"

  "Later," replied the Immortal from the Pucky image. "You will find out soon enough. By your time reckoning the Drusus will arrive at the energy screen within 10 minutes. The ship will be anchored. Then I shall fetch you and your two companions."

  "But why Sengu the Seer especially?"

  "Nothing in the universe happens without a reason," replied the false mouse-beaver—and from one second to the next he vanished.

  Pucky stared at the spot where his twin had been standing. His high-pitched voice trembled slightly when he spoke. "That was me, no doubt about it! Every hair on him was genuine—unbelievable! Do you think It can copy each and every form of life? That's what I call thought materialization!" He shook his head in wonderment and turned to Bell. "But you have to admit that I'm beautiful. I could have kept looking at myself for hours. Fascinating!"

  Bell cleared his throat. "It would have been a catastrophe if the Immortal had left your carbon copy behind. Then there would have been two of your kind on board the Drusus and I couldn't have survived such a thing."

  Col. Sikerman dismissed the incident with admirable calm and saved Pucky from having to answer. "We are approaching Wanderer. Our velocity has dropped sharply. Nothing visible ahead yet but if the instruments don't lie we ought to be contacting the energy screen at any moment."

  He had hardly finished speaking before a slight shock ran through the ship. They could feel it in the deck plates. In the same second, all indicators on the panels sank to zero. The viewscreen of the special tracker darkened. On the other hand the normal viewscreens revealed the stars of the universe in every direction.

  "Go get Sengu," Rhodan told Pucky. After the mouse-beaver had left the Control Central, he continued: "I don't know what's going to happen now but we'll have to place our confidence in It. Col. Sikerman, you can rest assured that the Drusus will remain stationary in space, relative to Wanderer. All you have to do is wait until I get back—but when that will be is beyond my present knowledge. Unfortunately, Bell, you will have to remain behind. The Immortal wants it that way."

  "He can't stand the sight of me," muttered Bell disappointedly. But there was a false ring to his voice because he wasn't quite able to conceal his sense of relief. That is, his relief over the fact that he would be allowed to remain on board the Drusus.

  Rhodan smiled knowingly. "I don't believe It allows Itself to be guided by Its emotions—although It has them. Pucky happens to have a 3-ply parapsychic capability and therefore
he's best suited for controlling unusual situations—not to mention protecting me from special dangers. Sengu is our seer. He can look through solid matter. That's one thing that leads me to suspect that It has a project in store for me that has nothing to do with Wanderer—or at least it's not located here. Because a seer like Sengu would not be necessary on Wanderer. So you see... it's all a matter of expediency, nothing more. That make you feel better, Bell?"

  Bell nodded silently. He felt uneasy. But he didn't have time to dwell on his presentiments because Pucky entered the Command Central accompanied by Sengu. Wuriu Sengu was Japanese. He, too, had been preserved by the biological cell shower treatment. His rugged build revealed strength and his short stubble of hair was similar to Bell's reddish bristles. But aside from physical build that was the only similarity. Outwardly, Sengu's eyes did not reveal any particular evidence of his special faculty but deep within them glimmered a hint of that timelessness which was characteristic of all relatively immortal persons. And they were eyes that knew no physical boundaries. They could see through anything.

  "I think we'd better get down to the main exit lock now," said Rhodan. "That's where It will pick us up—or have us picked up. We'll wear our lightweight spacesuits, just in case. You, too, Pucky." He paused at the door. "If possible, we'll keep in contact. I don't know if the telecom will be functioning but don't worry if you don't hear from us. We're in good hands."

  Bell and Sikerman had nothing to say as they watched them go.

  The spacesuits were stored in the main airlock section. They selected the lighter suits which permitted the wearer to remain for a short period of time in the vacuum of the void but were not as cumbersome as the heavier space combat suits. A complex micro-pak took care of temperature control and replenishment of the air supply.

  Pucky of course had a custom-made version of the lighter style of suit. He slipped it on and ignored the faint grin of the Japanese mutant as he struggled to find the hole in the rear of the outfit. It had been placed there to receive his often-cumbersome beaver tail. Designed on the principle of a diver's suit, it was nonetheless all in one piece. Pucky's hind part was shoved into a kind of pocket which protected it from all harmful effects. Without question the whole ensemble gave him a comical appearance and he knew it.