The Columbus Affair Read online

  Poskanov decided to have the Gazelles picked up by the fast cruiser Congo and taken to the overhaul ship yards at the Moon Base. As he was transmitting the necessary instructions to the flagship's Com Central, a high-priority pulse-coded dispatch came in from Solar Fleet High Command. The deciphering process took 36 minutes.

  Meanwhile the Congo's commander was sweating out a difficult course adjustment, getting ready to use his magnetic tractor beams in an attempt to capture the damaged auxiliary craft, which was racing through space in free fall.

  Two minutes before the actual recovery, Col. Poskanov received the decoded text of the message. After reading it, his first precautionary act was to contact the Congo. The cruiser's skipper was disgruntled, after such intricate approach manoeuvres, to receive orders to break off the rescue at once and return at top speed to his regularly assigned interceptor sector.

  Lt. Nafroth, commander of the damaged Gazelle, watched with increasing amazement as the echo blip rapidly diminished in the 3-D screen of his matter detector, which operated faster than light. The Congo disappeared so swiftly that it could hardly be traced by the tracking beams.

  Ten seconds later the radio receiver came to life. The formation chief was on the telecom. Nafroth was instructed to let his small ship continue to drift, except that he was to avoid any collisions with cosmic debris.

  Since the new Moon Base of the Fleet was closer at this time than Mars, which was on the other side of the sun, it sent out a fast salvage and recovery tender. The Gazelle's rate of drift was about 10% SPEOL so it took the tender seven hours to reach it and pull it into its vast cargo locks.

  Where Lt. Nafroth was concerned, this took care of the situation. He could not suspect that the dangerously close hypertransition of the Drusus presaged an event in which his was only a very minor role.

  By the time the tender began its return flight, Col. Poskanov had already assembled the 16th Space Pursuit Force within Sector 12-14A. At a minimal velocity the ships drifted in free fall through interplanetary space. Poskanov tied in a remote-controlled briefing session over the formation's videophone network, which operated at normal light-speed. Thus any danger of intercepting their voice-video traffic was minimized, especially since the flagship's transmitter was only putting out 250 watts of power.

  The individual commanders had all gone into their respective Communications rooms for the occasion and Poskanov was visible to all of them simultaneously on the viewscreens.

  "Gentlemen, effective immediately we are in a war-time combat readiness mode of operation," he announced in his typically clipped tones. "Events have occurred in star cluster M-13 which appear to make possible an imminent discovery of the Earth. You will receive further information when I have more details at my disposal. Meanwhile I have received instructions to fully equip and provision this surveillance and pursuit force accordingly, and to beef up all crews to regulation strength, after which we are to move out and join the Pluto Security Task Force under General Deringhouse. That means we will vacate all previously assigned picket stations in this area. We will fly in closed formation to the Ganymede base where we'll pick up water, provisions, spare parts and equipment in accordance with Operation Columbus. Advise your crews that their last spot for sending out mail must be at Ganymede. All currently scheduled leaves are canceled. Although censorship of outgoing mail will not be imposed, you will advise your men that our further movements are not to be imparted to anyone. Thank you, that is all for the time being. Cut off now and switch to your data link tie-ins with the flagship. I will pilot us en route."

  The viewscreens darkened. All commanders returned pensively to their respective Control Centrals.

  Poskanov looked around in the circle of his staff officers. The Osage was already picking up speed. The formation chief listened for a moment to the mighty roar of the engines before he spoke again, seemingly lost in thought: "There's an old Russian proverb that says a bear will keep on licking up honey until the bees fly down his throat. I'm thinking maybe Mankind is feeling those first stings! If we are discovered it'll be a matter of life and death. Unfortunately in our case we're not going to be dealing with honey bees but with countless battleships from the depths of space. It will get a little warm for us, gentlemen!"

  Poskanov nodded to the Commander of the Osage. With his massive shoulders bent slightly forward, he walked ponderously over to his command seat. Before him glowed the giant panob screens.

  The aspect of the outer void was the same as ever. Billions of stars gleamed in the black emptiness. Many of those stars possessed planets and one day an alien fleet would rise up from some of those solar satellites. And that would be it!

  Poskanov decided to write a letter to his wife. Yes, and also one to Sergei, who was just about to enter into his final exams at the Academy. The requirements were hard and Sergei was weak in cosmic colonization theory. Perhaps he could make up for it by getting some outstanding marks in other subjects—perhaps! No cadet in the Space Academy of Terrania was allowed more than five minus points. Poskanov wondered if he would ever greet his son in an officer's uniform of the Fleet.

  With a sigh he got up from the deep-cushioned revolving seat. He had no more patience for sitting still.

  "You'll find me in my cabin," he said to the battle cruiser's First Officer. "Any detailed dispatches are to be brought to me at once."

  2/ THE MESSAGE OF THE CENTURY

  "I'd like to move out of here, with your permission! Perhaps in case of attack these deep subterranean cities of yours are very practical but they are too stifling and depressing for my taste. The Osage landed over 30 minutes ago. what we are still waiting for?"

  Perry Rhodan, First Administrator of the Solar Empire, bent his head back in an attempt to take in the entirety of the super-sized viewscreen. He wasn't quite able to because he stood too close to its oval-shaped surface.

  The 3-D image of the man on the screen was perfect Rhodan had a sense of actually seeing Admiral Atlan, sitting there before him. Also the Arkonide's voice was transmitted with high fidelity by hidden 3-D audio units.

  For a moment the two men gazed directly into each other's eyes. The Arkonide had a broad and muscular build, appearing to be considerably more powerful than Rhodan, whose tall, lean figure hardly betrayed his physical strength.

  Atlan smiled scornfully.

  Rhodan noted it with displeasure. He stared up involuntarily at the smiling Arkonide whose albino-like reddish eyes were clearly visible.

  "I asked you a question!"

  The loudspeakers boomed forth. "Yes, I know." By the tone of his voice it was obvious that Atlan was fully aware of how critical his relationship with Rhodan had become at this moment.

  "And...?"

  "You seem to take me for a monster who's ready to bite your head off, Barbarian! Why do you have to ask? If you wish to move into your flagship, by all means do it. You are not my prisoner."

  Rhodan ignored the reprimand. He gazed searchingly at the transmitted image of the Arkonide who had become the key figure of the galaxy after the demise of the omnipotent-seeming robot Regent. Outside of a very few who knew the truth, no one suspected that the rapid stream of radio commands issuing from the giant antennas of the war planet were not being given by a soulless mechanical Titan but rather by a relatively immortal Arkonide of royal extraction.

  Atlan had been shrewd enough not to reveal the fact that the mechanical Regent had been conquered. After a daring and perilous mission, at the last critical peak of emergency Atlan had been recognized by the failsafe portion of the Brain—that is, as an Arkonide whose mental qualities were still unimpaired and active. Only a few days ago he had finally assumed the absolute authority in place of the Regent.

  This authority and power were based on the knowledge of a robot whose countless circuits covered an area of some 10,000 square kilometers. The history of the Arkonide Empire was old, in fact ancient, so that it embraced a tremendous scope of factual information. Since the giant machine c
ontained all this in its tremendous data banks, there was nothing that it did not know.

  As a former admiral of the Greater Imperium and nephew of Imperator Gonozal VII who had ruled 10,000 years ago, Atlan had taken advantage of this vast storehouse in order to fortify his position. His decisions were made under cover of anonymity. Now as before, the many colonial races within the sphere of influence of the Greater Imperium still thought they were under the dictatorship of a merciless robot machine.

  Rhodan vividly recalled the events of the past few weeks-the landing on Zalit, the masquerade of his combat commandoes under their native disguises, the futile attack of his mutants against the giant defense screen of the robot Brain, and finally the crisis of beginning defeat which was only changed to victory by the intervention of the secret failsafe portion of the Brain, the existence of which had been suspected by Atlan.

  "Have you lost your tongue, friend?"

  Rhodan came back to himself with a nervous start. He looked uncertainly about him in the small, high-security chamber. It was located outside of the mysterious energy screen that they had underestimated with such near fatal consequences. Only Rhodan was permitted to enter here. His companions waited for him beyond a locked, armorplated gate that was guarded by stationary robot weapons.

  The hexagonal-shaped room had formerly been used by the scientists from the Supreme Council of Arkon so that they could be undisturbed during their conversations and interrogation sessions with the robot Regent which they themselves had created.

  Atlan's lean, expressive face now filled the great screen as the Terranian calmly answered him: "Before I lose my powers of speech this world will go down in ruins. Atlan, two days ago I requested a ratification of the alliance and mutual assistance pact which my experts have prepared. Since when have you undervaluated the human race?"

  "I don't any more—not since they have been able, under your leadership, to grasp the scientific and technological knowledge of my venerable race and turn it to their own purposes. You must remember that I knew your forefathers when they..."

  "...were still in caves and throwing stones at each other," said Rhodan, completing the statement. There was no bitterness in his voice.

  Atlan smiled again. "Oh, have I mentioned that before?"

  "About a thousand times."

  "Then I apologize."

  "What about the treaty of alliance between the Arkonides and the Solar Empire?"

  "By that pompous and high-sounding name you are probably referring to that tiny little star of yours, whose 10 planets combined would not fill enough volume to even make one single major class heavenly body?"

  "Exactly!" confirmed Rhodan, undisturbed.

  Atlan laughed softly. Moments before a very serious mood of disagreement had hung on the air but now the tension between the two men faded away.

  "Friend, you ought to consider my situation. Here I'm sitting in the truly gigantic switching and circuit rooms of such a miracle of technological achievement that I can't quite grasp it all myself. At the time the Robot was built I had been considered to be dead for several thousands of years. Terra time. I'm not inclined to ratify any treaties when I don't even know if I can keep you in line. You are urging me to sanction an agreement which is exclusively for the sake of your own security and the text of which is quite typical of you humans. However fine-sounding and carefully written, what it's saying is that you want a guarantee for the safety of the Earth."

  "Is that too much to ask for? Until now the location of Terra was considered to be a secret. You are the only living extraterrestrial who has knowledge of it."

  "And so? Is that a reason for suddenly mistrusting me? Or do you actually think that all my thoughts and aspirations are going to be devoted to destroying you little barbarians? Perry, come to your senses. If I had wanted to betray you, in the past few years I had sufficient means and opportunity to do so. One quick radio message would have been enough to bring Arkon's fleet of robots into the Solar System. Isn't your think-tank functioning any more? I can't sign this agreement. My position here is still unsecured. I'm operating under the guise of the Regent right now only to give the necessary impact to my orders. If I were to come out into the open as Emperor Atlan, in a few days we'd be faced with a terrible revolution. How big do you think the Arkonide Empire actually is? Do you know the magnitude that's involved? How many alien intelligences and descendants of earlier Arkonide colonists are represented here?"

  "How can I sign an agreement in their name when they know nothing of my existence? Or are you asking me to be a cheat and swindler when I have only just returned to my home world?"

  "You could sign the treaty of alliance in the name of the robot Regent."

  "You foxy barbarian!" said Atlan coldly. His eyes flashed with anger. "You Earthlings were always like that and you're no better—even when the well-being of your very race is at stake."

  "I don't consider that to be improper," replied Rhodan.

  Atlan burst out with an irritable laugh. He adjusted the image so that his face grew smaller and a part of his torso became visible. He still wore the uniform with the Arkonide insignia of a fleet admiral. It had been fashioned according to his wishes back on Earth.

  "How can I answer that! For you it's not an impropriety whereas to my way of thinking it is. It would be sufficient for you if I were to just go ahead with this great deception. If I were to follow my conscience, this very day I would have the robot Brain proclaim me as the rightful ruler. But I refrain from it because I'm considering the welfare of many people. I have to proceed with extra caution. So you must content yourself with my promise that I will neither betray nor attack the Earth. What the devil—is it that hard to believe me?"

  Rhodan cleared his throat. "Well, that sounded very un-Arkonide," he said drily.

  "After devoting some thousand of years to teaching wild barbarians a few manners and a smattering of knowledge, it's quite possible, you know, to pick up a few of your native expressions," retorted Atlan but his tone was markedly friendly.

  Rhodan closed his eyes. Atlan could be very sarcastic. The Arkonide's low laughter pulled him back out of his thoughts. "OK—it's a deal," he said slowly. "So you're not signing. What's going to guarantee that your new power isn't going to go to your head? You know in your mind that Terra is a potential danger."

  "Oh yes, so dangerous, in fact, that you have to sneak around and just duck your heads out here and there from the darkness. That's a strange tactic for such a formidable power."

  "It's a measure of self-preservation. What I can offer you is what you no longer possess: outstanding specialists and trained men for your inadequately-manned spaceships. Right now I am able to move 10 million well-trained troops. Together we can put down any rebellions. That includes the Druuf conflict near the overlap zone. I'll give you the personnel and you supply the necessary ships."

  "Agreed, but without a treaty. I'm not signing anything with a name that nobody knows but you. One day when I can emerge publicly you will have your ratified agreement of alliance. Is there anything else on your mind?"

  Rhodan sensed that it was time to break off the negotiations.

  "Nothing else?" said Atlan. "Good! Then move yourself and your men into the Drusus. Are you going to leave Arkon?"

  "Only when the treaty has been signed."

  "You're as stubborn as an Earth mule," said Atlan. "You'll never learn. Oh, and that reminds me..."

  Rhodan looked up again at the giant viewscreen. Atlan's last sentence had peculiar overtones.

  "This mouselike creature named Pucky. I want you to straighten him out and tell him in the future to abstain from his stupid little tricks."

  "What?!" Rhodan was nonplussed. "But Pucky is with the crew we left on Zalit. We picked them up but they've only just landed 30 minutes ago. What do you mean?"

  "The little scoundrel had no sooner arrived than he attempted to use his teleporting faculties for breaking through the robot Brain's energy shield. Apparently this un
earthly upstart thinks his capabilities are boundlessly beyond those of your human mutants. Naturally when he made his jump he was intercepted by the Brain's ultra-dimensional field matrix. The interlocked honeycomb of force shot him right back and in an extremely painful manner. I knew about it from the automatic warning system. So take care that in the future such playfulness is kept under control. I've made it sufficiently clear to you and your men that the failsafe security section that was built by my forefathers will not tolerate any penetration into the area of the robot Brain by alien life forms. The programming is built in and I can't change it. Do we understand each other, Barbarian?"

  These last words sounded hard and cold. Rhodan suspected that he had reached the limits of Atlan's patience and consideration. He nodded silently but in a few moments added: "That's something else I don't like. You'd think we'd at least get permission to take a look at this technological miracle machine."

  A swift movement of Atlan's head brought a bright flash to his whitish-blond hair. It seemed as though his red-golden eyes gleamed a warning. "Perry, you are intelligent enough to assess my words very well. I am telling you once more that I cannot alter the security circuits. My ancestors knew what they were doing when they built in these protections for the indispensable robot Brain. Besides, where that's concerned I do not trust you! You might 'just happen' to bring along a microbomb and set it off in the installation somewhere. I know you a bit too well, Terranian! So you stay in your sphere and I'll stay in mine. After the Regent portion of the Brain was phased out, it became a harmless automaton but it still retained unique capabilities. Before I would allow it to be destroyed I'd sooner annihilate you along with your whole Solar System. If one thinks in terms of the galaxy—which I presume to rule!—I'd consider the Empire with its more than 50,000 colonized worlds considerably more important than your little Earth. So beware of ever attacking the machine. In such a case all my pledges to you would become void. Is that clear to you, Perry Rhodan?"