Realm of the Tri-Planets Read online

  Khrest lowered his eyes. Rhodan's face had lost a little of its color. This was something he had not taken into account and his brain automatically began to make calculations. The extraordinary constellation of three synchronous celestial bodies represented enormous astronautical and mathematical problems.

  Another thought suddenly occurred to him and the fleeting guess became a certainty after a few seconds. "Khrest, I hope you don't claim that this incredible coincidence of three planets with the same orbit, solar distance and correlated positions has come about as a natural development?"

  Khrest's sombre face brightened. A spark of the lost pride in his race returned to his big eyes. His countenance became more dignified despite the fact that his situation had become pathetic. Khrest no longer harbored illusions. "You're quite right," he declared solemnly. "The Crystal World of Arkon, was the third planet of the sun 30,000 Terra years ago. Due to the enormous expansion of the Arkonide Empire it became too small and it was necessary to separate the economy, the residential areas, the space fleet and the industrial installations from each other.

  "Since my ancestors endeavored to centralize the most important organizations, the biggest impulse engines of all times were installed on the original planets 2 and 4. In the course of 3000 years they were very slowly pulled out of their natural orbits and aligned with extreme caution in the trajectory of the original Arkon. The entire operation and synchronization was performed with precise computation and the three coordinated planets were called Arkon. You must understand, Perry—this is Arkon! After their successful consolidation the three planets showed virtually no variation. Only very few Arkonides had knowledge of the secret which we now share with you.

  The dynasties that ruled in earlier times considered it psychologically preferable to pretend that this unique constellation was natural. They sought to promote a certain glorification of our race. Superior beings like ourselves were entitled to the distinction of living in a special environment, you see."

  Rhodan took a deep breath before he replied in awe: "I must confess that I feel the greatest respect for your ancestors. And I'm very grateful to you for your decision to disclose these facts to me. Otherwise we would've run into some nasty surprise with our hytrans computations. But you could have told me about this a little earlier, couldn't you?"

  Rhodan looked reproachfully at Thora, who responded with a faint but meaningful smile.

  Meanwhile the men in the Command Center engaged in an excited discussion. The programming by the astronautical computer brain bad already begun. The thin plastic tapes with the punched symbols were swallowed up by the insatiable machine.

  "Tough luck!" Bell muttered. "Arkon happens to be exactly on the opposite side of the sun. Is the teletransmitter going to shove us through that white-hot ball of fire?"

  "If a body is extraneous to a certain type of energy its matter can be considered as nonexistent in its effect," Rhodan said authoritatively. "Khrest, I need data about the inclination of the trajectory plane and the ecliptic, precise orbit velocities and gravitational conditions."

  The Arkonide scientist went to work at once.

  In the new nose section of the Ganymede an extremely nervous officer got ready for the start of the long-distance reconnaissance ship. The new ships of the Gazelle type were shaped like disks and measured 100 feet in diameter. They had impulse engines and were equipped with hypertransition field generators. As fighting machines they performed with respectable clout if the right man was at the controls. Julian Tifflor admirably filled that bill.

  The inner door of the compression chamber, was open. The fact that the outer hatch was to be kept closed at first seemed normal to the cadet. When he began to think about it—how Rhodan wanted to get the bulky Gazelle out of the forward hangar—he felt a little weak. It suddenly dawned on him when he saw the members of the technical team rush into the room containing the teletransmitter Rhodan had taken from theStardust .

  "Great Jupiter!" he whispered breathlessly. "Not with that!"

  2/ TERRANIA ANNEXES THE TITAN

  Next to the superbattleship the half-mile-long Ganymede looked like a good size lifeboat. As the men of the reinforcement commando poured out of the air hatches to jump across the distance of 200 feet into the gaping gates of the mammoth, they had to make special efforts to keep from flipping their minds over the sheer mass of the monster.

  "Detachment Tanner, second gate from left!" the command came over their helmet radios. "Turn the defense shield of your combat suit up to full strength after you enter the normal air pressure. Do not open your suit! You'll run into very high temperatures."

  The 800 men boarding the vessel were armed with heavy duty disintegrators which despite their bulk could be operated with two hands.

  Freyt had decided to use also the hatches at the lower pole for mounting his attack in an attempt to force the robots who were still intact and capable of reasonable actions to fight on a second front.

  The Ganymede troops brought armament and equipment which was not available to Rhodan's taskforce. If there were any Arkonide combat suits with built-in energy sources and defense shields aboard the supership, they had not yet been found.

  Tifflor, standing close to the main antigrav elevator, showed the incoming troops the way. The totally exhausted men pulled back from their holding positions which were immediately taken over by the fresh contingents. Only the mutants remained at their posts.

  After half an hour some semblance of order returned to the fluid fighting lines. The defense shields of the combat suits were built to ward off a glancing blow. It was a different story, however, when they were hit by a direct blast from the robots' rayguns. Then the protective screens collapsed.

  Rhodan, Khrest and Thora gave directions in the lower section. Undaunted, the 800 men pressed upward and downward with irresistible force.

  An hour later the battle action concentrated among the installations on deck 32, where many of the larger machinery halls were situated.

  "Attention, everybody!" Rhodan warned over the radio. "Avoid shooting at robots where they take cover behind valuable machines. Whenever you see a robot in such a place or have located him with your energy sensor, notify Lt. Marshall at once and he'll send in a mutant. Shoot only if you don't have to damage irreplaceable equipment."

  Rhodan spun around when he noticed some small figures flitting by. They were medical robot teams of the Ganymede that were equipped with tracing cells by which they were able to detect the wounded more surely than the human eye.

  Rhodan bit his lips as he saw the first victims of the unequal battle being carried out under the supervision of Drs. Haggard and Manoli.

  "We'll fix them all up again as good as new," Haggard called to Rhodan. "We'll have to perform some amputations but it won't be a problem with the Arkonide bioplast technique. Sir, I'll need about 20 good men for the transport."

  Rhodan gave the necessary instructions at once and the injured men were carefully transferred to the Ganymede where they received prompt medical treatment of the highest caliber.

  "It was tough," Bell groaned, "Awfully tough." His red hair bristles were singed down to his brow. "These robots must be new models. They react much faster than ours. If we had taken 5000 of their ilk on board, it would have been goodbye."

  With these words he fell asleep in a sitting position and didn't wake up when a robot medic gently picked him up with his antigrav-lifter and took him away.

  It took four more hours before the last of the fighting machines were shot down or disabled by the mutants. Rhodan formed search teams that had the unattractive task of combing each section of the ship.

  "Be careful and don't get panicky. Use your own judgment. It's not in the technical makeup of fighter robots to go into hiding as humans are prone to do. They'll attack whenever there's an opportunity. You can take almost for granted that you'll find no more active machines. If any of them were present they would have joined the fiery battle."

  Rhodan
turned around, utterly fatigued. Dr. Manoli looked into his weary, red-veined eyes, which mirrored all his cares and overexertion. "You've got to take a rest," Manoli warned with deep concern. "Your body won't endure it much longer either."

  "First my men and my ship! Where's Freyt?"

  "Up in the Command Center."

  They floated up in the antigrav elevator, which was again functioning. When Rhodan entered the Command Center, the men saluted. Thora was fast asleep in her pilot seat. Rhodan stopped for a moment to look down at her softened face. Manoli began to breathe easier as he saw Rhodan relax his tightly pressed lips.

  The panoramic observation screens were put back in operation. Highly trained specialists who were familiar with the controls of theStardust II already manned the most vital posts.

  Julian Tifflor had forgotten all about his tiredness and gave helpful explanations wherever it was necessary.

  The service of the Communication Center was restored and a major power station worked with a minimal output.

  The sensor antennas rotated on the pole cupola of the gigantic ship. The tracking and transceiver stations differed from those of theStardust only by their impressive size.

  Rhodan listened to the muffled rumbling originating in the activated structure sensors.

  "They're searching frantically for us," Freyt said in a low voice. "Just listen to that intercom broadcasting! The Great Robot seems to be beside himself, you might say, if it weren't a machine."

  Rhodan passed through the armored hatch. A new transition shook the instruments. He listened for a few moments and cast a glance at the blank screens of the ultralight-speed object sensor, flopping into an armchair. "I had a hunch that it would have been only by pure accident that the superrobot brain could track our transition among the numerous other transitions taking place at the same time. It seems that we chose the right moment. If we had jumped a little later, we'd have had their entire fleet on our necks in a minute."

  "By the way, sir, where are we?"

  Rhodan looked up at the huge, seamless panoramic screen. The big red sun stood clearly out from the fantastic, scintillating stars of cluster M-13.

  "I've no idea. All I know is that we've covered a distance of three light-years. Thora has computed the second transition by herself. I imagine she picked a fairly remote spot in this crowded Galactic traffic center. Freyt!"

  The colonel came closer. "Sir?"

  "Your warning came just in time. Otherwise I'd have waited at least two more hours. What brought that investigation on?"

  "That weird administrator of Naat wanted to talk to you. I believe you were supposed to fly some kind of a mission for the Brain."

  "Oh," Rhodan laughed grimly.

  "Novaal came aboard and we began to sweat it out when he missed you and then Thora and Khrest. He made the entire crew line up outside the ship and the game was up. That's when I sent you the emergency message. It was only a matter of minutes, since Novaal advised the Brain at once. We intercepted his report."

  Rhodan was pensive. Soon his eyes brightened and he looked around. At last he found time for reflection and he became conscious of how much the few men and women had accomplished.

  Freyt's beaming face became clouded when he saw Rhodan's expression change once more. It suddenly revealed an aspect of Rhodan's character which had never changed.

  He began an agonizing self-appraisal as Dr. Manoli had called it. "Don't start torturing yourself," the physician promptly admonished. "A certain amount of self-analysis may be a very good thing but not for a man in your condition who should be in a hospital."

  Rhodan glanced amicably at his old companion from the time of the first fledgling ventures into outer space. They had flown together on the first atomic rocket to the moon. Lost in thought, Rhodan smiled softly. Then he said without apparent connection: "I think we're going to call this beautiful spaceship Titan. Do you realize that Terra now possesses what is probably the mightiest battleship in the Milky Way?"

  He saw the skeptical faces of his listeners and became amused. His old irony returned to his voice: "Oh no, think what you like, but I'm going to keep this ship. You can bet on that! I'll need four weeks to train a new crew. Then we'll see bow the cards are stacked. Our trip to the Arkon System was a moral fiasco but it had one good result: we've learned something about the state of affairs in the so-called Great Empire. This knowledge is worth all the hardships we've suffered. Friends! If Terra were discovered today by a fleet of robots we'd face certain disaster. I believe the reason it didn't happen yet is only because the Galactic trader will not permit the permanent surrender of such a wealthy solar system to a robot brain."

  The structure sensors registered another disturbance. For a few moments a bright blip appeared on the optical screens of the long distance tracker. Only after the foreign object vanished from the scanner did Rhodan relax his tense vigilance.

  "A busy neighborhood, sir!" Freyt commented nervously. "What do you intend to do?"

  Rhodan slowly raised his eyes and directed his gaze toward the red sun. "Send me 700 men! You can easily operate the Ganymede with a crew of 300. I'd need at least 1500 trained men to handle the 40 auxiliaryGood Hope class ships carried aboard theTitan. Our most urgent problem will be how to quickly slip away from the M-13 cluster without being noticed. That'll be all for now."

  Freyt was about to ask another question but when he looked down at a dedicated man, drugged for sleep, eyes fighting to remain open, he quietly left the Communication Center without speaking.

  Outside in the vast nerve center of the superbattleship he saw Julian Tifflor still performing his dues. "You're committed to sickbay," Freyt growled. "That's an order. You can leave everything to us. We'll manage to run things around here. Boy, you've got to get some rest!"

  Tifflor was overcome by embarrassment when he felt Freyt's hand on his shoulder. "You did a great job!" was the last thing he heard before he passed out cold as an ice cube from the planet Snowman.

  Far from the ships drifting in space hung a strange crimson sun. It resembled a blood-red teardrop. An ominous omen of events to come, both sorrowful and sanguinary?

  The inscrutable future veiled the answer.

  3/ THE CRYSTAL PLANET

  They crouched, huddled close together. Trying to make the situation more comfortable, they reveled to excess in a biting, grim humor to fit the circumstances.

  The old warriors from the battles in the Vega sector of an earlier day had gone through many privations and were used to being herded into quarters which resembled more a swarm of sardines caught in a net than a room with stable walls, or so they called it.

  Rhodan had laughed in his infectious manner and had made them crack a smile. The members of the New Power's taskforce were highly intelligent and independently thinking men who were well aware what kind of a daring plan had been hatched again by their old man.

  True to their temperaments they had—not surprisingly—engaged in heated debates about the chances of success for their mission. They didn't mince matters that the action was more than perilous. They came from almost every nation on Earth but out here—34,000 light-years from their common world—they were only humans risking their lives to serve their home planet.

  Thus they were squashed together under much cussing and ridicule into the narrow storage hold of the little Gazelle. There was hardly another word to describe the way they had crammed themselves in.

  Though there was only limited room in the pilot's cabin it barely accommodated the men in charge of the operation.

  The hand of an ordinary shipboard clock ticked off the seconds. The observation screens of the scanner depicted the nondescript steel doors of the air compression chamber. Although the GZ1 was poised for launching, the outer hatch remained closed as before and nobody had equalized the pressure.

  Instead the peculiar orifice of an even more peculiar instrument was aimed at the small spaceship. The teletransmitter obtained on the planet Wanderer was designed to immerse
materially stable bodies into a dematerialization field of a higher order and radiate it in the form of six-dimensional energy units to a predetermined goal.

  It was the crowning achievement of a technological development whose most elementary concepts were known only to Perry Rhodan. The teletransmitter didn't require a tuned-in receiver station of any kind at the opposite pole. It transformed the transmitted object back into a solid physical entity at the desired place.

  Rhodan's eyes were glued to the secondhand. The mike of the telecom was at his lips. "Attention, everybody!" all loudspeakers on board blared. "Launch in 45 seconds! If everything works according to plan we'll emerge from hyperspace in the uppermost atmospheric strata of Arkon 1. We won't have to fear detection during the transition. Be prepared to feel the effect of a few Gs leaking through the absorbers at the landing. We've got to get down as quickly as possible. Keep that in mind."

  A muffled whine broke out. The separate power station of the transmitter had started to operate. Not even Rhodan knew exactly what went on inside the apparatus. It was a technical process which was beyond human comprehension.

  Bell had followed the countdown but he was unable to call out zero as the men were gripped by a terrific force and felt the severe pull of the preliminary dematerialization.

  Instead of the heretofore clearly reflected picture of the GZ1 on the observation screen of the Ganymede, a fluorescing energy spiral flickered on the panel for a moment and vanished without a trace.

  The roaring engines of the Ganymede sputtered out into idling speed. Outside in the automatic control stations of Naatral's spaceport the impression was created that the Commander had once again made a senseless attempt to escape from the fetters of the magnetic field. The chief engineer let the reactors run down. The Gazelle was up and gone.