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  Rhodan, who meanwhile had returned to his seat, admired his friend and his speech for the defense. Then his microcom sounded. A signal of utmost urgency rang out.

  He waved his arm, then brought his wrist to his ear. The motion had severed a microelectronic connection and the call sign died away. Now Rhodan listened to the important news coming in over the microcom on his wrist.

  Seconds later, his face looked grey and old.

  At that moment, the television cameras turned their lenses away from Bell and focused on Perry Rhodan.

  Millions of people saw the First Administrator in one of the worst moments of his life.

  Rhodan was desperate! Internally, he felt as though he were collapsing. The desire to shut off the microcom was overpowering but the force of his will to hear the terrible news to the end was stronger.

  Thomas Cardif, lieutenant of the Solar Fleet, stationed on Pluto, had secretly left the planet with a destroyer.

  Thomas Cardif, Perry Rhodan’s son, had deserted!

  Thomas Cardif, transferred to Pluto for disciplinary reasons, had taken flight during the battle with the Druufs.

  He had let his hate for his father take precedence over all else.

  Only a few minutes before, his flight had been noticed on Pluto. Five days earlier than scheduled by routine, the garrison on Pluto had relieved the crew of Relay Station 3. It had come out then that with the help of a forged order, Cardif had deserted in a stolen destroyer.

  “Destination of the deserter Lt. Cardif is unknown!”

  These minutes were some of the few in his life in which Perry Rhodan was unable to act instantly.

  First he had lost his wife, Thora. Now he had also lost his son.

  Under the name of Thomas Cardif, he had grown up in the care of people who were not his parents so that he would not suffer the burden of being Perry Rhodan’s son. But when as a newly-minted lieutenant he had learned on Siliko V who his parents really were, the Arkonide heredity on his mother’s side broke through and with all the arrogance and pride of an Arkonide he hated his father from that second on. His love was reserved for his mother alone and even at her grave he felt only hate for Perry Rhodan.

  How he must hate me, thought Rhodan, tiredly and bitterly.

  Once more Perry Rhodan realized how lonely it can be to be a man so high above all others.

  He did not know that a bitter smile was playing at his lips.

  He did not know that millions of people were now watching him and that those people were reminded of the day on which Thora was laid to rest in the mausoleum on the moon.

  “Perry...”

  Bell had sat down next to him. Allan D. Mercant had replaced him at the speaker’s stand. Mercant spoke to a breathlessly listening house, just then requesting that public coverage of the session be temporarily suspended. His request was not unusual and was well within the limits of parliamentary procedure. In the following minutes, Mercant would inform the Upper House that 21 representatives had misused their high positions for their personal gain. All 21 MPs were members of the African delegation and were declared opponents of Rhodan.

  Millions of television screens in the Solar System went grey. The Upper House was voting. It decided to suspend public coverage for as long as it took Allan D. Mercant as chief of Solar Defense to submit all the incriminating evidence and subject it to examination for proof of authenticity.

  John Marshall leaned forward slightly and whispered into Bell’s ear. “The excitement of the representatives over the Kimberley Iron scandal makes it clear that they’ve fallen for an organized propaganda campaign against the chief but their anger over the matter of insufficient information from the Administration is still outweighing everything else. At the moment, the African delegation is thoroughly at a loss.”

  Bell wanted to pass this news on to Rhodan. He gently nudged him again. Only then did he notice how paralysed the face of his friend was. “What’s wrong?” Bell asked, not suspecting anything.

  Rhodan turned his bead like a robot. “Thomas has taken a destroyer and deserted, Reggie...”

  “No...” gasped Bell. “That can’t be...” But he knew it was. “Thomas...” he said, and then nothing more.

  But duty took no consideration of their shock.

  The Parliament had passed judgment on 21 representatives. Robots and guards led them out. The robots had been ordered to make sure that the 21 representatives could not leave Terrania. Then the remaining representatives returned to the matters at hand.

  Nicktown’s rousing article was still the subject of debate.

  Public coverage of the session resumed.

  The Administration had to suffer serious accusations.

  Rhodan did not make an attempt to defend himself by speaking up during the debate. Only once did he call out, when the charge of treason had been raised yet again:

  “The Druufs aren’t bogeymen we’ve invented to scare people. They are perhaps an even greater danger for the Earth than the Robot Brain was. A danger like that can’t be simply wished away. That is why the galactic position of the Earth had to be made known and that is why we were grateful that 4000 cylindrical spacers of the Galactic Traders fought on our side in the Battle of Terra. But no treason was committed, unless you would rather slave for the Druufs than live as free Terrans!”

  “Free under the heel of the Springers!” someone called sharply.

  “And why haven’t the Arkonide robot spacers left yet, Administrator?” demanded someone else.

  Rhodan had not completely informed the Terrans and now the chickens were coming home to roost. He tried to explain why Springer ships were still to be found at all the spaceports on Earth, Mars and Venus and why robot ships still cruised within the Solar System. But the more he tried to explain, the less he was understood.

  The representatives, who could not be faulted on this point, lacked the overall viewpoint necessary to understand and made clear their anger.

  Then came the turning-point that no one had expected.

  Rhodan candidly admitted that he too had been stirred by Nicktown’s article. He did not go into the sackcloth-and-ashes routine or otherwise blame himself unduly but he gave the reasons why he had given orders that not too much of the turbulent events in the Galaxy be made public in the Solar System.

  “We didn’t have time! That is not an excuse, as you’ll see when I go into detail...” And for five minutes he recited facts and figures that soon had the heads of the distinguished delegates spinning. “We did not act out of carelessness or ineptitude...” And again he provided examples, then concluded his explanation. “Even an administration with enormous legal authority cannot long endure without the confidence of Parliament and therefore I as First Administrator of the Solar Imperium submit to you and all the other citizens of our small interplanetary realm this question: is my administration deserving of your confidence?”

  Half an hour later, the result of the vote on that question was made known: it was by no means an overwhelming vote of confidence for Perry Rhodan but after several days of tremendous political turmoil what more could he expect?

  He went to the speaker’s stand and spoke briefly. “I thank the Upper House for the confidence it has signified in me and my aides.” His words were followed by a thin applause coming from all directions, which Rhodan regarded more highly than he would have a larger majority.

  The wall that had been built up against him was beginning to crumble from all sides. Yet only he was aware of that. Not even Bell had noticed.

  When Rhodan returned to his seat, he found Bell thoughtfully regarding the tip of his right thumb. “If only this year were over...” he heard Bell say.

  It was the 5th of June. 2044.

  2/ CARDIF’S CHALLENGE

  Only when the session of the Parliament of the Solar Imperium was over did Cokaze leave his seat in front of the vidscreen.

  The old patriarch, the last of his race who had witnessed Perry Rhodan’s dizzying rise to power, nodd
ed in satisfaction as the vidscreen went blank, then reached for a glass and took a deep drink.

  “To us!” he said, looking around the room.

  More than 20 clan members sat according to their rank behind him and applauded in agreement.

  They all looked alike—not only in their uniform clothing and not only in their trimmed beards, which stood in crass counterpoint to the uncut hair hanging stringily from their scalps, but much more in their height, which in every case exceeded two meters.

  The Cokaze clan recognized only one leader: the patriarch Cokaze. His orders were law, his opinions weighed heavily. He was not only the oldest of Springers, he was also the most experienced, and where they concerned Perry Rhodan, his experiences were unique. He was the only one left who had witnessed Perry Rhodan as a man without any power worth mentioning at the beginning of his rise.

  Cokaze and his closest relatives had just seen on the vidscreen how much power the Administrator had now. Cokaze believed he had every right to drink to the future of his clan, for he was not only to some extent informed as to Rhodan’s warmaking potential but had just learned first-hand how weak Rhodan’s political position was.

  The Springers reached for their own glasses and silently drank to their patriarch. Cokaze wiped the drops out of his beard, nodded cautiously. then turned to his oldest son, Olsge, who with his family lived aboard the cylindrical spacer Cokaz 2. “Tomorrow, Olsge,” he said, “you’ll fly to that planet they call Venus and call all the captains together.” Then he turned to his favorite son, Oktag. “Tomorrow you’ll land in Mars City and call all our men there together. There’s not much to talk about but there’s much for us to do.

  “We’re staying here! And we’re going to stay here in Rhodan’s system until he has signed a treaty giving us the trade monopoly for his Solar Imperium.

  “It might well be possible that we’ll withdraw from the Earth. If Rhodan asks me to... well, we Springers aren’t inhuman brutes, after all, and we can be approached—when someone makes us a big enough offer.” He laughed droningly and his eyes sparkled.

  Cokaze had never yet been a poor businessman and his reputation among the Springer clans was the best. That was shown by the size of his spacefleet, about 4000 units strong and consisting almost entirely of modem ships. A small number of them lay damaged in the repair yards on Mars and Venus, for the battle against the Druufs had taken its toll. However, the cylindrical spacers that had searched out ports on Earth were without exception ready for action and were to be found in all of Terra’s landing places.

  That had not happened unintentionally. Cokaze was a tactician besides being a businessman who made deals only when at least 100 million items were involved, for maintaining 4,000 spacers meant an expenditure of a small fortune every single day.

  Yet, from one side came a remark that was polite and reserved in accordance with the strict customs of Springer society.

  “Sire, will the Robot Regent cause us any difficulties? Its fleet is stronger than ours.”

  The old clan leader laughed hollowly and sympathetically at once. “Krako, you must have been asleep when the Terran representatives were making life miserable for Rhodan with their questions. I think Rhodan would give a great deal if the Regent were to show itself ready to call the robot spacers back to Arkon. When we...”

  Just then the hypercom came on. The com-officer in the control room of the Cokaz 1 had relayed the incoming transmission to Cokaze’s cabin.

  The screen flickered. Cokaze turned somewhat to the side so that he could sit directly in front. When the image had stabilized, Rhodan’s face, life-size, looked out calmly at the Springer chief.

  “Cokaze,” Rhodan said after a brief greeting, “I assume that you and your captains watched the debate in the Terran parliament. That will save me the trouble of long explanations. I have just spoken with the Regent: the robot fleet now cruising within the Solar System will be leaving our sector in the next two hours to return to Arkon or to the Druuf Front. The Robot Regent did not refuse my request to withdraw its fleet. I’d like to submit the same request to you, Cokaze. May I inquire as to when you and your spacers on Earth, Mars, Venus and the individual ships on moons of the larger planets will be withdrawing?”

  “Rhodan,” replied the patriarch with much benevolence in his voice, trying to employ the same good Arkonese Rhodan had spoken, “it is with a heavy heart that I notice that gratitude is not characteristic of Terrans. I...”

  At that moment, the com-officer of the Cokaz 1 tip-toed through the ranks of intently listening captains and went up to the the patriarch. He bent over to him and whispered into his ear, taking the precaution of holding his hand in front of his mouth. “Sire, Perry Rhodan’s son is awaiting you aboard the Cokaz 322 which is at the moment on Venus.”

  The cunning Cokaze did not allow any of his surprise to show. He only nodded briefly and then excused himself to Rhodan for the unexpected interruption, indicating with a gesture to the nearest clan members sitting behind him. “Rhodan, as you can see we are in the midst of a conference. If you will grant us three hours, Earth time, we will then let you know our decision.”

  “Cokaze, will you call back yourself, or should I call first?” Rhodan asked, still courteous.

  “I’ll call, Rhodan.”

  “Thank you, Springer. But I’d like to take this opportunity to reiterate that we Terrans have never lacked gratitude towards our friends.”

  “When it pays off, Terran,” answered Cokaze smoothly and two-facedly, “then we Galactic Traders are the last not to know how to value gratitude. We could sign a treaty which would grant my clan the trading monopoly here, for after all, the Solar Imperium has my help to thank for the fact it still exists. However, we can always discuss that later, Terran. I’m switching off.”

  * * * *

  “I really like that!” said Bell with a threatening undertone as Cokaze’s face disappeared from the vidscreen. He sat to one side and had attentively followed the discussion between Rhodan and the Springer patriarch. “I don’t think we have any other choice than to call Atlan once more so that we can have him make it clear to Cokaze we have no intention of being blackmailed like this. That reference to a trade monopoly was sheer effrontery.”

  “They aren’t called Galactic Traders for nothing,” Rhodan commented. “But that matter isn’t what worries me at the moment. What I want to know is what news was whispered to the patriarch when he was answering me. I have seldom seen a Springer whose eyes lit up in such joy as Cokaze’s did.”

  Intuitively, Bell caught the drift of Rhodan’s thoughts. “Perry,” he exclaimed, “you’re crazy!”

  Rhodan looked meaningfully at Bell. “I almost wish I were,” he said. “You were always the one to protect Tom. It was you who kept him from being courtmartialed...”

  He got no further.

  Whenever Rhodan’s son was the topic of discussion, the opinions of the two men collided violently. Bell believed devoutly in the good in Thomas Cardif and he simply could not understand why Rhodan was so hopeless and pessimistic in the matter.

  Bell dragged Rhodan away from the hypercom. “If you don’t do it, then I’ll call Pluto. Thomas didn’t run off with any destroyer just because he didn’t have anything better to do that day.” He clicked the switches into place. Terrania’s hypercom central reported and Bell asked for a connection with the garrison chief on the far distant planet.

  Three minutes went by before the major appeared on the vidscreen in Rhodan’s workroom.

  “Sir...” announced the major.

  Bell got down to business at once. “Major, what do you know about Thomas Cardif’s desertion? What was the reason for it?”

  “Sir...” It could be clearly seen how much the major would have preferred to avoid answering that question. “Sir... there’s a rumor going around... well, sir, you know how it is with soldiers...”

  Bell was not in the mood for patience that day “Major, I’ve asked you a simple question and I req
uest from you a just as simple answer. So...”

  “Sir, I am only able to pass on rumors.”

  “Dammitall, then, pass them on!” Bell shouted at him.

  On the ice planet, Pluto, some hundred million kilometers away from the Earth, the garrison chief withered under the blast from his superior and then automatically snapped to attention. “Sir,” he declared, “in my garrison there’s a rumor going around to the effect that the Administrator, against the advice of all doctors, assigned his wife the mission of flying to Arkon 3 for the purpose of purchasing 100 spacespheres...”

  “What?” Bell screamed, face a brilliant red. “What’s the Chief supposed to have done?”

  “Sir,” replied the major, “you asked to hear rumors and you have just heard a rumor.”

  Bell drummed his fingers on the counter top for a few moments. Then he glanced to the side. Three steps away, Rhodan stood in front of the window.

  Rhodan showed no reaction.

  He seemed to he paralysed.

  He did not even react to Bell’s questioning look.

  Bell drummed his fingers for a few more moments, then spoke into the microphone. “Thanks, major. Over & out!” With that he broke off the connection.

  “Perry...”

  Rhodan did not stir.

  “Damn!” cursed the heavyset man. “Has the whole Sol System gone to hell? I wish I’d never gotten mixed up in politics! Against the advice of all doctors... If I ever get my hands on the rat who started that filthy rumor...” The rest of what he said was lost in a fit of profane rage for Reginald Bell could not understand how such a rumor could have come to be.

  * * * *

  At the same moment, aboard the cylindrical spacer Cokaz 322, Thomas Cardif listened as the patriarch Cokaze announced his arrival for 0330 Venus local time the next day.