Mutants Vs Mutants Read online

  A red light began to glow on the front panel near Tiff. The airlock had been pumped empty and Eberhardt had opened the exit hatch. Similar abandon-ship manoeuvres in deep space had been practiced many times by them but this time it was for real. And besides, nobody could know what dangers might be lurking over there in the wreck. It was quite possible that the pirates—that's what the unknown enemy were considered to be by Tiff—had their own pressurized spacesuits with them in their cabin.

  Now Eberhardt became visible. He was floating, attached to a thin line, close in front of Tiff as he slowly approached the rotating wreck. The shadow behind the window hatch of the broken-off nose of the formerly hostile spaceship seemed suddenly to freeze. He too must have caught sight of Eberhardt.

  Eberhardt braked gently as he landed on the hull of the wreck. Cautiously he moved ahead until he reached the window hatch. He peered inside and saw the face of a man who stared at him with wide open, horror-filled eyes.

  The stranger was wearing a spacesuit, however his helmet was not closed. His dark skin indicated he might be a mulatto but Eberhardt wasn't quite sure. In any case he was filled with deep satisfaction when he could clearly recognize the fear expressed in the other's face.

  He nodded grimly toward the man and showed him his pulse-ray gun, just to make sure. Then he crept carefully toward the torn-up part of the nose. A glance sufficed for Eberhardt to determine that he had in front of him a corridor which led to the various cabins of the ship. By some miracle the door to the command center had remained untouched.

  What now?

  He wanted to seize the unknown foe alive, for nobody would be helped by his death. For they were naturally most interested to find out who their opponents' were and who was hiding behind this incomprehensible attack. Therefore Eberhardt grasped his raygun and knocked with it against the door. Three times.

  Of course he couldn't hear anything for there was no air to conduct the sound. But the person inside the cabin could hear the knock at the door.

  Eberhardt leaned his helmeted head against the door. If the unknown should knock against it, in turn the vibrations would be transferred to the air inside his helmet. Hardly 10 seconds had passed when he heard three knocks. That could only mean they were ready to negotiate.

  Eberhardt thanked his fate that he had always paid attention during their radio training. He remembered the sarcastic remarks which many of his fellow students couldn't help uttering when they had to learn the Morse alphabet. Why bother learning the Morse code in an era when there existed direct audio-visual communication over distances spanning interplanetary space? Well, at this moment he realized suddenly why they had been bothered with such antiquated trifles.

  Almost automatically he replied and knocked out a message in Morse code:

  Close your helmet and open the door a bit. Come out backwards. Unarmed. I am waiting.

  There was no answer but a minute later the door opened. There was a rush of air as it escaped through the opened cabin door. It almost dragged Eberhardt with it but he held fast to one of the twisted stays. In his right hand he held his pulse-ray gun, ready to shoot, pointed at the chink in the door.

  First he saw an arm that cautiously groped backwards, then appeared the back of a spacesuit. It was the same type as worn by the cadets of the Academy. Therefore he had also...

  Eberhardt cursed himself because he hadn't at once thought of it. With a quick movement he flipped on his miniaturized radio installation. The other fellow might have switched his own on for quite some time already.

  Sure enough, it was the case.

  "...kind enough to bring me back to Mars."

  Eberhardt was startled. To Mars? He wanted to be brought back to Mars? He was coming from Mars in the first place? What was going on up there?

  "Turn around and raise your hands!"

  The stranger obeyed. Now Eberhardt could clearly see his face. He hadn't been mistaken earlier: he was a mulatto. His English was fluent.

  "Where is the rest of the crew?" inquired Eberhardt.

  Eberhardt was stunned to hear the stranger tell him: "I am alone here."

  The man was unarmed, this was obvious at first glance. Eberhardt requested him to step aside and wait. Then he entered the command center of the wreck and convinced himself that it was indeed empty. Amazing, but the fellow must have flown the ship all alone. Strange. Eberhardt left the command center and noticed with satisfaction that the other man hadn't budged from the spot.

  "Get going! Float ahead! You see the open hatch over there? Get in. No nonsense. I have you covered with my weapon."

  The stranger didn't reply but took off from the wreck with a slight push. In a weightless state he floated across the bottomless abyss and landed somewhat to one side of the opening in the Z-82's hull. A slight move and he stood inside the airlock and waited.

  Eberhardt followed him with mixed feelings. As far as he was concerned all proceeded too easily here. The stranger must realize that he was going to be faced with rather unpleasant alternatives. Why did he let everything happen without any resistance?

  Tiff awaited the prisoner in the command center. He waited patiently until the mulatto had unscrewed his helmet. Then he studied his face. It made a surprisingly honest impression. There was a trace of astonishment in his eyes, fear and indecision. Now a bit of defiance was added. His lips were tightly pressed on each other. His chin was thrust out energetically, revealing great vitality, but this was in obvious contradiction to how the man seemed to resign himself to his fate.

  "Do you speak English?" asked Tiff and motioned to Eberhardt to close the door leading to the corridor. The mulatto nodded but didn't say a word.

  "Who are you?" Again no answer.

  "You've attacked us without provocation," continued Tiff, feeling his anger rising. Now he was boiling with fury when he remembered his dead instructor Captain Hawk. "I want to know in whose behalf you were acting and why you did it!"

  "I'm not permitted to speak," mumbled the mulatto and closed his lips tight as if he wanted to prevent an indiscreet remark from slipping past his lips.

  "What? You aren't permitted to speak?"

  Tiff's thoughts were buzzing and tumbling in his brain. Maybe they had accidentally happened onto something really important. He no longer believed he was confronted here with a simple case of piracy. After all, what treasures could anyone hope to find on one of the training ships of the Space Academy?

  "As you wish. Then other things will make you talk. Cadet Eberhardt, lock the man in a cell and take away his helmet. Pump all air Out of the antechamber so that any attempted flight will be absolutely impossible."

  Tifflor watched as the prisoner let himself be taken away, disinterested as if all this was of no concern to him. Tiff waited until Eberhardt returned and confirmed that their prisoner was safely locked up in his cell.

  "Set course for Terra!" decided Tiff. "Get in touch with the Central Command and report the incident. I suppose they'll be interested to hear about it."

  And while the Z-82 was shooting out into space with incredible acceleration, leaving the drifting wreck behind to its fate, the radio waves rushed ahead of them. Eberhardt described all the details of the assault, reported the tragic death of Captain Hawk and was deeply astonished when he was suddenly interrupted by an especially powerful sender. An excited voice inquired: "What did the ship look like that attacked you?"

  Eberhardt reacted surprisingly quick. "It was a destroyer of the same type. We are at a loss to explain the incident."

  "And you took a prisoner?"

  "Yes, we did. Will you please identify yourself!" added Eberhardt as an afterthought.

  "Security Center of the New Power, Reginald Bell."

  "Of course, the Security Center. It's got ears all over the place."

  "Thank Heavens!" countered Bell and added: "Stay tuned in. I must transmit this message. It may be that Perry Rhodan will get in touch with you directly."

  There was a clicking sound in
the loudspeaker, followed by a humming. A bit surprised, Eberhardt turned to Tiff: "Reginald Bell! He has his nose into everything."

  Tiff in turn now demonstrated how fast he too could adjust to this new situation. With a last glance at the control panel he punched for automatic guidance which would keep the destroyer on its course. He got up and stepped over to Eberhardt's seat at the commu-set.

  "I'm taking over," he said with nonchalance. "We'll soon find out what they want from us. Watch the sensors, we don't want to be surprised a second time. I've a feeling that something isn't the way it's supposed to be."

  Little did he know how correct he was in that assumption.

  • • •

  When the first manned atomic rocket landed safely on the Moon, nobody suspected that a new chapter in the history of mankind had begun. Major Rhodan, the commander of the expedition, met on the Moon the Arkonides, a humanoid race ruling a star realm from their home planet Arkon, some 34,000 light-years away. Rhodan came to the rescue of the stranded Arkonides and they expressed their gratitude by letting him share in the extensive knowledge of a race that had already known space travel for thousands of years.

  Helped by the Arkonides, Perry Rhodan founded the New Power on Earth, prevented the atomic war and was now endeavoring to finally unite the whole world. His headquarters: the city of Terrania in the middle of the Gobi Desert. Terrania—the most modern metropolis on the globe, containing the marvels of a technology and knowledge many thousands of years old. If necessary, the city could be closed off from the outside world by erecting an energy dome around and above itself. An army of 10,000 soldiers and robots were in charge of the New Power's security.

  The Minister of Security, Reginald Bell, one of the men who had accompanied Rhodan on the first mission to the Moon, waived patiently till the six-foot-high picture screen lit up on the wall. A writing desk became visible. A man was sitting behind it. Very haggard, his dark-blond hair combed straight back, narrow steel-grey eyes alight with an inner fire. Although Perry Rhodan was already 44 years old, he still gave the appearance of being just 38. And he would never look a day older for the inconceivable knowledge of a race long since extinct had rendered him almost immortal. Every six decades he had to visit again the planet of Eternal Life, where that mysterious biological cell shower was located which would bestow another 60 years of youth on him.

  Reginald Bell also had been on the planet Wanderer and he too had been treated for conservation of his cells.

  "One of the stolen destroyers has shown up again, Perry," said Bell. His eyes were sparkling with pent-up excitement. "It's attacked one of our training ships from the Academy!"

  Perry Rhodan's eyebrows shot upward. "Where was that?"

  "In the vicinity of Mars. Luckily, one of the cadets showed enough presence of mind to wipe out the enemy after their instructor had been killed during the attack. The cadet also made one prisoner."

  Perry Rhodan's face lit up with sudden interest. "A prisoner?"

  "Yes, that's why I'm reporting this incident to you. I thought you might like to have a look at the fellow."

  "I bet you'd like that too, Reg! Where's prisoner now?"

  "He's still locked up in a cell of the training ship Z-82. Wait a minute! I'll connect you with the destroyer, then you can talk directly with the young cadet. The ship's on its way back to Earth."

  A few seconds later Cadet Tifflor came on. He described once again in a clear precise manner the recent events. Then he waited while Perry Rhodan absorbed and pondered what he just had heard. Shortly Rhodan inquired: "What's your name?"

  "Cadet Julian Tifflor, sir?"

  "Cadet Tifflor, you will land on the spaceport of Terrania and then report to me in person. I'll inform your superior officer back at the Academy of this change in plan. Keep a very close eye on your prisoner! He is of the utmost importance to us. The body of Captain Hawk will be transported to his home town. At what time may I expect you?"

  "In 80 minutes, sir."

  Tifflor's voice was filled with respect and high esteem. Perry Rhodan was for him not only the chief of the Space Academy but even more so a distant legendary figure. Where would the world be now if Rhodan hadn't succeeded in harnessing the might of the Arkonides for the benefit of mankind? The inhabitants of Earth might have annihilated each other long since and our world no longer exist at all.

  "Very well, Cadet Tifflor, I'll expect to see you then."

  Bell broke off the connection and instructed the military posts to let the Z-82 come in undisturbed for a landing in about 80 minutes and to bring its crew immediately to the Ministry of Defense in Terrania. Then Bell turned to Perry, whose lifelike image was still visible on the picture screen on the wall. "Well, what do you think?"

  "It's undoubtedly one of the three destroyers stolen by the mutant master."

  "Mutant master, that's all I hear!" grumbled Bell. "If we only knew who's behind that name? A supermutant? A monster?"

  "Regardless what—he's a very clever person who's determined to become the next New Power on Earth. It won't be easy to prevent him from doing so. So far we've been unable to find out the identity of our opponent, we only know that we are dealing with an extraordinarily intelligent, unscrupulous foe who shies away from nothing, not even murder."

  "We'll interrogate the prisoner and get all the information we need about the great unknown enemy. We'll get him yet!"

  "Provided our prisoner will cooperate with us," warned Rhodan.

  "Don't worry about that, he'll cooperate. And besides, we have André Noir to assist us."

  "I wasn't thinking so much of his own resistance," Rhodan said. "I was more concerned that the mutant master might have made sure our prisoner can't provide us with any information, not even if we try to force him under hypnosis."

  "That remains to be seen," replied Bell, always ready shoo away his own doubts.

  • • •

  It was a great moment for Tiff when he first stood before Perry Rhodan. He was overawed to be in the presence of the savior of mankind, the idol of modern youth, the legendary Perry Rhodan who had repelled the invasion of the Mind Snatchers and the Topides and who had saved mankind from destruction.

  Perry Rhodan greeted him with a smile.

  This was probably the greatest surprise in Tiff's whole life and later on he admitted to himself that he was somewhat disappointed by it at first.

  Next to Rhodan stood another man whom the cadet recognized from many photos and television broadcasts: Reginald Bell, The Minister of Security of the New Power and also Rhodan's best friend. Bell also smiled but it was an impatient and demanding smile.

  Tiff stood at attention. "Cadet Tifflor and Cadet Eberhardt back from a training flight. Special incidents to report: attack by a destroyer, Captain Hawk killed in action, enemy craft destroyed, one prisoner taken."

  Rhodan's smile vanished now as he stepped closer to Tiff and shook his hand. "Thank you for your determination and presence of mind, Cadet Tifflor. You have avenged Captain Hawk and rendered us a great service besides. If it hadn't been for you we would still be in the dark on who is responsible for making space unsafe with our stolen destroyers. Is that your prisoner?"

  Eberhardt and the mulatto stood half a step behind Tiff. Apart from their different colored complexion there was no difference between the two for both were still wearing the light-pressurized spacesuit without their helmets. And in the Academy for the training of space pilots there is no racial discrimination.

  Therefore it was nothing unusual when Rhodan pointed at Eberhardt, who was standing, with a deeply embarrassed smile, next to his prisoner. Tiff tried to suppress an overwhelming desire to laugh out loud. He grinned broadly as he corrected Rhodan. "Pardon me, sir, but this is Cadet Eberhardt, who overwhelmed the survivor of the wrecked enemy ship and took him prisoner."

  Rhodan shook Eberhardt's hand. "Then this must be the man," he remarked and carefully examined the mulatto. He advanced toward him. "Who are you? On whose behalf are
you acting?"

  No answer.

  Bell, who had also welcomed and shaken hands with the two cadets frowned darkly. "Let's skip the formalities; he isn't going to cooperate. Let's get our mutants! It won't take long for John Marshall to find out what's going on in this man's mind."

  Rhodan nodded in agreement. "Take charge of the confrontation with our telepaths. I'll have a talk meanwhile with our guests here. As soon as the prisoner starts talking, let me know."

  Bell approached the mulatto and stared in the man's expressionless eyes, shook his head in despair and took him by the elbow. Arm in arm both left the room like two good friends. Pensively, Rhodan followed them with his eyes. Then he turned to Tiff.

  "And now I'd like to hear a detailed account of what has taken place. I'd like to know all the details even if they seem insignificant to you. There must be some clue in all of this to what we're looking for."

  • • •

  The presence of radioactivity in the Earth's atmosphere since the first atom bomb in 1945 had produced side effects much faster than scientists first had suspected. New mutants were constantly born without anybody beware of this gradual change in man's former limitations. Then it was suddenly discovered that a number of apparently normal human beings possessed extraordinary abilities. There were telepaths and telekineticists. A man disappeared in Africa and reappeared the same second 1800 miles away: he had teleported himself across this distance. Another man could receive radio messages without the intermediary of a radio set The human brain all of a sudden displayed abilities that had never before been known to exist. Everywhere on Earth mutants began to pop up. Only a few of them possessed positive changes. As long as they remained isolated from each other, they represented no danger to mankind but united in a well-organized force they could become a remarkably effective army.