Phantom Fleet Page 2

  Rhodan shrugged his shoulders. "And how do you plan to prevent my finding out about it if I'm supposed to pass on a report of the situation to Arkon?"

  "I would send the message in code."

  "That wouldn't help you much because I'm in possession of the key to the secret code of the Imperator.

  I can decipher all your messages and read them."

  For the first time something like a smile flitted across the features of Geral Khor. "I guessed as much but I wanted to hear you confirm it. Well then, I might as well acquaint you with the facts. Could you touch down here?"

  "I don't have much time. The Imperator is waiting for me."

  "It's important, Terran. Of the utmost importance!"

  Rhodan looked at Gen. Deringhouse, who had entered the radio room to check the calculations. He had heard the conversation and looked dubious.

  "Alright," Rhodan said finally. "We'll land after a short transition of 3 light-months and we expect to see you shortly. Please let us know the exact coordinates so that we can save time."

  20 minutes later they raced with flaming engines and maximum deceleration toward the 4th planet of the sun Salex. It was a small bleak world with a breathable atmosphere and sparse vegetation. The installations of the base were built underground and Rhodan was aware that the hangars could accommodate a whole fleet of battleships.

  They passed several guard ships which circled the planet in a fixed path and failed to answer their radio signal. Deringhouse identified them as robot units.

  The only building on the surface was a semi-circular low fortification at the periphery of the spacefield. The spherical hyperantenna glistened in the reddish light of the sinking sun. As the Drusus slowly descended with whining engines and activated, antigrav fields and finally gently touched down on the meter-thick concrete deck a lone man emerged from the flat building and stood at the edge of the field. The magnification of the observation screen revealed that it was Geral Khor.

  Rhodan narrowed his eyes. "Isn't this odd?" he murmured. "He appears to be all alone."

  Deringhouse made no reply. He was too busy with the landing operation. Following strict procedures he shut down all engine sections, checked the controls and left the antigrav field turned on because he did not know whether the concrete deck could carry the enormous weight of the Drusus —a sphere with a diameter of 1½ kilometers. After he had finished his job he answered Rhodan's half-rhetorical question. "Alone? It's impossible for one man to run a big installation like this."

  "Why not?" Rhodan asked. He obviously was of a different opinion. "Arkonides who remain vigorous are rare and Atlan has to choose their distribution very prudently. This base is one of many which are run automatically. They are all controlled by the Robot Brain on Arkon. And so is the fleet. Only humans can never be completely replaced by robots. That's why Atlan has assigned Arkonide commanders at all crucial stations. Therefore I wouldn't be a bit surprised if our good fellow Geral Khor were all alone."

  The air samples were satisfactory and the temperature was bearable without heat-control suits. Rhodan stuck his pocket blaster into his belt and instructed the teleporter/telepath Pucky to watch him for a signal in case of an emergency. Then he left the Drusus through the lower exit hatch together with the telepath John Marshall. He switched on the tiny radio-transceiver at his wrist, thus maintaining constant contact with Deringhouse.

  John Marshall stretched his limbs, took a deep breath and observed appreciatively: "It's amazing how

  such a desert gets so much fresh air. You wouldn't think it's possible."

  "This planet also has enough oceans and regions of dense vegetation, although it has mostly deserts and bare mountains."

  They walked across the smooth seamless concrete, leaving the Drusus behind. The lone figure slowly approached them from the low building.

  "What's he thinking?" Rhodan inquired.

  "He's happy that we came. That's all I can make out. His thoughts are also occupied in a vague manner with some catastrophe as if he didn't know exactly the source. At any rate he seems worried and is afraid."

  "H'm. Strange," Rhodan said, glancing at the clear cloudless evening sky. The planet rotated very slowly. A day on Salex 4 lasted 50 hours although the planet was smaller than Mars.

  Geral Khor stopped as they met 500 meters from the building. He wore the uniform of a high Arkonide officer and carried an energy weapon in his belt. When Rhodan looked at him he impulsively offered his hand to the Terran. "I consider myself fortunate that you complied with my request and did not refuse to make a detour. I believe it is extremely important that Gonozal VIII learn what has taken place here."

  Rhodan did not require the telepath Marshall to find out all the details. He preferred to let Geral Khor describe the events in his own words. He shook Khor's hand, introduced Marshall and said: "Would you like to come aboard or..."

  "May I ask you to be my guests?" the Arkonide smiled. "Believe me, I seldom receive guests—and when I do they're usually robots, fleet commanders. But now..."

  He paused, shrugged his shoulders and began to walk in the direction of the building. Marshall looked worried and cast a quick glance at Rhodan. He seemed to have already learned part of the truth.

  They engaged in some small talk and Rhodan had occasion again to admire the patience of Arkonides. A Terran would have blurted out the news—if there was news.

  "This way, please." Geral Khor showed his visitors into a comfortably furnished room. The large low window faced the spaceport where the Drusus stood in the rosy light of the sinking sun, a sight that was highly reassuring. The colors of the sky became darker. They sat down.

  "Now, shoot!" Rhodan requested the Arkonide and, seeing his astonished face, added: "It's just an expression. It means only to begin your report."

  Geral Khor mustered a faint smile. "Are you destined directly for Arkon?"

  "Gonozal VIII has requested my presence without delay."

  "Excellent. Then notify him that the base Salex 4 is inoperable. The robot fleet is paralyzed because we no longer receive any command impulses from the Robot Brain on Arkon. Without the Robot Brain these autoguided vessels are for all practical purposes a heap of scrap. Those ships that were in the hangar are still there but unable to move. The hatches are closed and can't be opened. The units that happened to be out on patrol are still circling the planet as if they were waiting for something. Waiting for what, Perry Rhodan?"

  Rhodan had little data to form anything but vague speculations. A robot fleet had become disabled—such incidents could occur but it did not mean that similar failures took place at other spots in the Imperium. It could be no more than an accident. Perhaps a relay in the command receiver had become defective. "What about the work robots?"

  "The work robots...? They're under the direct control of the Robot Brain on Arkon. They stopped where they stood and nothing can make them take another step. I'm the only one in this place who doesn't stay in a fixed position. But then I'm no robot."

  The picture gradually took shape in Rhodan's mind and it was not very reassuring. On the contrary. Atlan's radio message and the events on Salex 4 suddenly seemed to fall into place. It was high time to inform the Imperator. "I suggest, Geral Khor, that you report personally to Gonozal from aboard my ship. That way you can receive at the same time your instructions how to cope with the situation and what countermeasures to adopt. I assume that the Imperator will give you his orders himself."

  "A good idea," the Arkonide agreed. "I've thought of it myself but I didn't want to inconvenience you, also I know that Terra and Arkon are partners of an alliance."

  Rhodan smiled. "I'd like to take a look at your ships. I take it that the entrances to the subterranean installations are not blocked."

  "Fortunately they can be operated manually. Otherwise..."

  Suddenly a slight hum sounded in the room. Rhodan perked up, raised his arm and said: "Deringhouse? It's alright to talk."

  The general's voice was low but easy to understand. "Hyper-radio call, sir. Atlan wishes to talk to you. It sounds urgent."

  "Tell him to hold on. I'll be back in a few minutes." He looked at Geral Khor. "You'll get your connection with the Imperator quicker than we supposed. Let's go. I'm afraid we don't have a moment to lose."

  If the commander of the support base was surprised, he failed to show it. He immediately got up and walked to the door to open it. Since they had no car which could be used, they walked across the landing field to the Drusus as fast as they could and took the elevator up to the radio room where Fred Jenner maintained the radio contact with Arkon. It took less than 3 minutes. Atlan waited for him with an impatient face. "I understand that you stopped in Salex 4, Perry. What's the reason?"

  Rhodan explained it to him in a few words and realized that Atlan was greatly disturbed. "That's what I thought!" he exclaimed. "The catastrophe is taking on even greater dimensions. At first I believed it was an accident that affected merely a region of a few light-years. But the explanation is simple. The hyperradio system also broke down and the alarm failed to reach me."

  "What happened?" Rhodan interrupted him.

  Atlan reported. "Our connection with the Robot Brain on Arkon 3 was broken off. It no longer answers our calls. At the same time all robotships under its command stopped functioning, including the combat and work-robots, as well as other related installations and shipyards. The administration of Arkon faces a total collapse since all work is performed by robots as directed by the Brain. The perfect system of automation seems to be a disadvantage now. The entire service for the units of the fleet commanded by Arkonides is discontinued. It is as if the Robot Brain had never existed. In general, all radio—or direct—communications with stations on Arkon have been silenced. The
whole military planet has been shielded by an unknown and highly mysterious energy field of a tremendous magnitude. Nothing can penetrate it, neither radio waves nor matter. The Robot Brain is completely isolated and the consequences are disastrous."

  Geral Khor had turned pale. He stared uncomprehendingly at his Imperator and dropped into a chair as if his legs could no longer support him. He was stunned beyond words.

  Rhodan was grim as he spoke: "The Akons have struck. They are a power that uses methods which are unknown to us. They have incapacitated the Arkonide Imperium with a single vessel and they now occupy the center of the Imperium, safe and unassailable. What shall we do?"

  A frown creased Atlan's brow and his steel-hard eyes stared straight into the viewscreen. "That's what I wanted to ask you! I am at my wits end," Atlan admitted reluctantly.

  Rhodan pondered the situation for a few seconds and said: "There's nothing we can do on Salex 4 anymore. Is Geral Khor permitted to accompany us or do you wish to let him wait here?"

  Atlan replied without hesitating: "He may return to Arkon. If the Robot Brain resumes its functions again, the base can exist and be operated without the presence of an Arkonide. Geral Khor can go back to Salex later on.

  "Thank you, Your August Highness," Geral Khor stammered with relief. The thought of being left alone with all those dead machines had shaken him.

  Rhodan said in conclusion: "You can expect me to join you in a few hours, Atlan. I hope that your ring of fortifications remains neutral. This will only be the case if the Akon's efforts to seize control of the Robot Brain continue to be unsuccessful. So far they only managed to shield its effects. That doesn't mean that they have taken over control. Therefore the situation is not yet desperate, Atlan. We still have some hope."

  "But slim at best," Atlan replied.

  "Hope is hope," Rhodan contradicted him vigorously. "Don't forget that we have always mastered the worst situations."

  "But nothing as dreadful as this," Atlan uttered glumly—and Rhodan knew only too well that his immortal friend was right this time.

  After the picture screen went blank, Rhodan inquired: "An inspection of the robotships is now superfluous, Geral Khor. Can we take off or do you have to pick something up? I mean personal things or..."

  "If the existence of the Imperium is at stake, all private matters have ceased to be important," Geral Khor replied with great dignity and had no further comment.

  Rhodan looked at him with high respect and walked over to him. "As long as Imperator Gonozal has officers like you to back him up, the Imperium won't be lost," he said and shook the hand of the Arkonide. "John Marshall will show you to a cabin."

  Then he rushed to the Command Center, where Deringhouse was busy feeding his calculations into the computer.

  10 minutes later the Drusus lifted off with howling jets and ascended toward the nocturnal sky of Salex 4. It shot past the senselessly circling patrolships and went half an hour later into a transition.

  3/ ACCIDENTAL INVASION

  The little robot brain at the Institute for Cosmic Retraining in Terrania pierced a new card with tiny rectangular holes. The card was blue and was pushed by a sorter on a belt and carried to a card file.

  A certain Col. Ludwig Rammbuggl, officer in charge of the institute, held the card in his hand half an hour later. "Well, well," he murmured after perusing the data of the card. "A Maj. Heinrich Bellefjord is eligible for retraining. At last another officer who serves in the fleet!" He looked sternly at his secretary. "Pierre! Bring me the record of this officer at once! Hurry up! We need smoothly working crews to man the new experimental ships with linear drive. This Bellefjord—what a funny name—will be assigned to the Moon base as soon as we can let him know."

  Pierre bowed and took off. Half an hour later again the colonel was informed that Bellefjord was on a mission aboard the light cruiser Kenia . This did not keep him from contacting the High Command in order to initiate the necessary steps. In less than 3 hours the order was transmitted by hyperradio to the front lines around the Blue System.

  • • •

  In coordination with the other units of the fleet the Kenia patrolled the borders of the Blue System.

  Preliminary attempts were made to break through the energy screen by using various technical tricks. Three heavy cruisers had performed simultaneous transitions in the hope of cracking the shield of the Akons. The attempt misfired without damage to the ships. The ships were simply hurled back by an invisible yet terrific force. That was all. The gravitational fields had absorbed the shock.

  Commander Maj. Heinrich Bellefjord had no inkling at this moment that his present mission would be terminated and he had been chosen by fate—or, if you prefer, by a positronic computer brain—to play a special part in the following events.

  It was better that he was still in the dark about his future or his zeal for his present job might have suffered and he might have hesitated instead of reacting with lightning speed when the little ship of the Akons suddenly emerged and vanished again in the depth of space.

  With two leaps he was in the radio room. "Call Col. Kaligula! Quick!"

  Before the radio technician on duty was able to answer him he was already back in the Command Center. The pilot, an African, turned his face around to him.

  "Change your course to the spot where the ship came through the energy screen, Lieutenant! If they can get through we can do it too. Did you observe the exact position?"

  The pilot nodded. He was seated directly before the observation screen and rangefinder instruments. When the strange ship came into view he pushed the film button. This enabled him to record and play back the course the vanished ship had followed.

  "We're on the right track now," he said after correcting his own course. "We're flying toward the same

  spot in the barrier."

  "Very good, Lt. Omola. Distance?"

  "2 light-minutes."

  "Velocity?"

  "0.8 speol."

  "Keep going! I'll be back at once."

  Bellefjord ran back to the radio room swifter than his somewhat corpulent figure would lead anyone to

  believe possible. "What gives, cadet? Did you make the connection?"

  Gerald Rumpus jumped up and left his seat to his superior. "Col. Kaligula is waiting for you, sir."

  Bellefjord squeezed himself between the, fixed chair and the viewscreen. He sat down panting. In front

  of him, only a few centimeters away, was the face of his superior officer on the picture screen.

  "What's up, Bellefjord?"

  "Sir, I request your permission to enter the Blue System."

  "Permission?" Col. Kaligula's voice sounded incredulous. "We've been trying this for days and couldn't

  make it. And you ask my permission? How am I to understand this, major?"

  "I've got an idea, sir..."

  "That's nice. What is it?"

  Bellefjord gasped for air in his excitement. Each second counted. "I am close to the spot where the ship

  of the Akons pierced the energy wall. I believe, sir, that the Kenia could go through the same spot in the

  barrier."

  The colonel looked worried. "The risk would be enormous, Maj. Bellefjord. If the gap closes up again you won't be able to come back. Then we can't help you either. You would be completely on your own. H'm, I don't know if I can give you my permission without advising Terrania first..."

  "We've got barely a minute, sir," Bellefjord urged. "The Kenia is bearing down on the hole approaching the speed of light. It's a hole, sir! The blue shimmer has faded away."

  Col. Kaligula, Commander of the Cruisers at the border of the Blue System, hesitated only a second. "You have my permission, Major. But you must proceed at your own discretion and your own risk. Try to keep in radio contact!"

  "Yes sir! And thank you!"

  He got up and darted back to the Command Center. The picture screen went dark but contact remained unbroken as the radio operator, Rumpus, took his place again.

  The Kenia raced through the mysterious energy screen which shrouded the secrets of the Akons and separated the system from the rest of the universe. Immediately, radio contact was lost. The Kenia and its crew of Terrans were cut off from the world.