The Shadows Attack Page 2

  "Do you think I'd want to miss it?" retorted Germa with mock indignation, and he led the way out. "The grav is right over there."

  "I could get there much faster if I wanted to but there's no need to startle Sukril too soon. Also, it's good to have a walk after eating."

  The Caesar was a world in itself. With its 1500-meter hull it resembled a Terran submarine modular city with streets and even building-like structures which were connected by antigrav lifts. An untrained person could become irretrievably lost in this maze of ultra-modern installations and never find his way back to the point of exit. Pucky, however, was well acquainted with the interior of such super battleships. He could still recall the many emergency drills he had gone through in the days when these "big ones" were still a novelty in the Fleet.

  Germa stopped at the door to the Control Central. "It's always like entering the Inner Sanctum," he half-whispered.

  Pucky could hardly suppress a giggle. "You're stretching it, Slim. I've never been afraid of any commander. If he's not a nice guy, I sail him through a couple of corridors and clamp him to the ceiling somewhere.

  "You and your telekinesis," muttered Germa shakenly. He pointed to the door. "You lead the way this time."

  Pucky cautiously concealed his incisor tooth and pressed the automatic release button. The door slid into its niche and gave access to the Control Central. In spite of the maze of consoles and equipment cabinets the room appeared to be semi-circular in shape. Everywhere there were gleaming viewscreens on the walls, surrounded by controls and switches of every description. At one table an officer was studying star charts. He looked up briefly and grinned at Pucky—then immersed himself again in his work.

  Another man sat in the wide seat before the main control board. His back was almost broad enough for 2 men. His hair was cut short and stood up like gleaming silver-grey bristles. He still didn't seem to have noted the intrusion because he was staring intently at the viewscreen, in the middle of which was a reddish star. His vice-like hands were on the console beneath the indicators.

  Two other officers turned to discover Pucky and Germa. One of them seemed to know what was on the commander's mind.

  "Sir—the mutant."

  Col. Sukril did not even turn his head. "You mean this Pucky creature?" he asked. He cleared his throat. "As soon as he shows up he is to come to me. I expect him to report in according to regulations like anyone else." He continued his concentration on the outer space view although he must have known that the mouse-beaver stood directly behind him.

  Pucky gave Germa an imploring look but the lieutenant shook his head. Knowing that the mouse-beaver could read his mind he suggested mentally that he should "toe the line" just now. It was no use to start any trouble when it wasn't necessary.

  Pucky turned his gaze from Germa to contemplate Col. Sukril's broad back. There was something about his figure that was very familiar. Hm-m... If his hair were red instead of grey, one might have thought this was Reginald Bell. But Bell was with Rhodan just now on the Ironduke, which was the flagship. They, too, were on a mission.

  "Lt. Puck reporting for duty, sir," the mouse-beaver finally managed to say, while more or less standing at attention.

  The man in the pilot's seat folded his hands in his lap before he slowly turned around. He remained seated and it was only the chair that actually turned. His healthy, ruddy face was good-natured but revealed a trace of curiosity. He smiled faintly. "So this is Pucky, the most notorious of all the mouse-beavers. Hm-m... Why are you just reporting to me now, Lt. Puck?"

  Pucky stared in utter amazement at Col. Sukril. Actually he looked almost like Bell with his hair dyed. If it were not for the completely different brainwave pattern it would be possible to imagine that this was Rhodan's second-in-command. But then upon closer inspection the other differences came to light. The mouth was smaller and more tight-lipped than Bell's, the cheeks somewhat fuller and the chin much heavier. In the grey eyes there was an expression of sternness, courage and justice.

  "Well, is this too late?" was Pucky's counter-question.

  Col. Sukril remained motionless. He made an effort to screen his thoughts but of course without experience in such matters he didn't quite succeed. Thus Pucky picked up a few interesting items although they didn't seem to tie together clearly. So he was going to have to rely on questions to learn the rest.

  "Lt. Puck!" said Sukril sharply. "I permit no exceptions to the rule on board my ship. You are a member of my crew, with the same rights and the same duties. A lot of commendable stories have been told about you, I'll admit, but don't think that entitles you to any special privileges. Here everybody does his job and you will do yours. Is that understood?"

  "No sir," replied Pucky while lowering his gaze in mock shame. "There are some people who say that my intelligence leaves something to be desired and... "

  "Military discipline has nothing to do with intelligence!" roared Col. Sukril impatiently but then he calmed himself immediately. "Anyone boarding a ship for duty must report immediately to the commander. Can you understand that?"

  "That's what I just did, sir," replied, Pucky, making a weak attempt to defend himself. Inwardly the discussion began to amuse him. "Lt. Germa brought me here right away."

  "So? And how do you explain the fact that you're just getting here now? Look there on the viewscreen! We're already passing the moon!"

  "Nice view," commented Pucky appreciatively as he watched the cratered landscape pass by. "It always reminds me of Pericles."

  Sukril caught his breath, apparently nonplussed. "Of what?"

  "Aren't you familiar with Pericles? Too bad—you've missed a lot. It's the 2d moon of the 4th planet of Clara 5, a red sun just left of Cancer. Of course you must know where Cancer is located?" Col. Sukril's face went through an interesting process of changes. It became darker, for one thing, but in contrast to Bell's face instead of becoming red it turned blue.

  "Are you trying to—?"

  "But—to be honest about it, I couldn't report to you any sooner than this."

  Sukril appeared to have calmed himself again. "Oh? And just why was that?"

  "Because I just got on board before you took off." Sukril looked at Pucky more closely. "Your top uniform button is unfastened, Lt. Puck."

  The mouse-beaver nodded negligently. "Why is yours buttoned? Afraid you'll catch cold?"

  Col. Sukril swallowed hard and thought of his temper. He told himself to just take it easy and not get excited. To fence with the mutant was a senseless waste of time. He abandoned the hope of getting the best of him, in contrast to all the mouse-beaver's other superiors. No one had ever succeeded. Why should he be the one? And yet...?!

  "Lieutenant," he said sharply, "you will adhere to the regulations. In your cabin you may do as you please, as far as I am concerned." He took a deep breath. "You are familiar with our orders and your own, as well?"

  "We're to catch us some robots, sir." "You might call it that." Sukril became a trifle friendlier. He leaned forward and looked into the mouse-beaver's eyes. "Has Lt. Germa shown you your quarters? Do you have any complaints?"

  "None, sir. Just one question: what are we going to Mars for?" Sukril leaned forward still farther. He grinned broadly. "Aha! So you've already done some telepathic snooping? If not, why would you ask about Mars? Alright then, I'll tell you. Rhodan ordered us to pick up Miss Iltu. From now on she'll be flying on various missions, as occasion demands, and she is to be trained by you."

  Pucky forgot his military schooling. Indignantly he placed his small arms akimbo. His expression was one of thunderstruck amazement. "Iltu? That babe in arms?"

  Sukril nodded affirmatively. "What do you have against Iltu? She is a cute and capable mouse-beaver girl. She can handle telekinesis and is also a telepath. Well, yes—where teleporting is concerned she has some shortcomings, but she'll also learn that—"

  "But she's much too young!" persisted Pucky. "Nevertheless, she's 100 years old, according to what she told us," declared Sukril soberly. "If that's supposed to be young I'd like to know just how old mouse-beavers get. How old are you, Lt. Puck?"

  It was a delicate question to which Sukril received no more of an answer than had Rhodan or Bell or anyone else.

  "Iltu!" Pucky's voice seemed to express complete rejection but deep in his brown eyes was a glimmer of pleasure over the prospect of meeting his special friend whom he had once rescued from Vagabond along with 27 other young mouse-beavers. They had all been brought to Earth but had later settled on Mars. "Does she know about this?"

  "She was instructed about the mission and has agreed to go."

  "She's a brave girl." Pucky nodded appreciatively but then added quickly: "But she's not ready for real work because she has no idea of how to teleport properly. And as for telekinesis she only has playful kid games in her head. Does she really have to come with me?"

  "No, it's not mandatory. According to Rhodan's instructions, if you're strictly against it we'll change course and not pick her up." He turned to the officer at the chart table. "Captain, work out the new course. We'll continue to accelerate and bypass Mars."

  "Hey!" chirped Pucky in a shrill tone. He waddled past Sukril to the navigator. "If you don't land on Mars I've got news for you!" Then he turned back to Sukril who had become speechless. "Well, don't lose your eyeballs, Sukril. After all, everyone has to make a start sometime."

  He nodded patronizingly to Col. Sukril and strutted out of the Control Central. With a stiff salute, Lt. Germa also took his leave before the thunderstorm could break over his head.

  But there was no thunder.

  The commander watched Pucky go with his mouth agape but then he got hold of himself. He nodded to the navigation officer. "Steady as she goes," he ordered. "Interim landi
ng on Mars."

  The first round, he thought to himself, was undecided. But he didn't realize how wrong he was.

  • • •

  The brief landing on Mars occurred according to plan. Iltu was brought on board and taken to her quarters by Lt. Germa where she was received by Pucky. Then the Caesar took off again and set course for its assigned sector.

  This was a peripheral region of the galaxy where there were very few stars. Atlan had declared it to be a zone of operation for one of the larger fleet formations, which turned out to be the case. Almost daily the search teams of the Terran ships ran across scattered cruisers or major vessels of the Arkonide Imperium. Being cut off from the usual command signals from the robot Regent, they drifted without direction through the void, the helpless prey of anyone who found them.

  Col. Sukril waited until his target star appeared on the screen. It was an unknown giant sun that didn't even have a name, merely an index number. It was to be the point of reference for all operations of the Caesar. The ship had long since surpassed the speed of light. Gaining velocity with each passing second it glided toward its goal between Einstein space and the fifth dimension. The target star remained visible even though part of the universe had disappeared into a zone of darkness. Rather than a blind flight as in the case of hypertransitions, it was based on visual navigation.

  The Caesar was the first super-class spaceship to be equipped with a fully tested propulsion system based on the semispace principle. The Alderamin also had this new system but was not considered to be perfect because Prof. Kalup had provided the Caesar with certain additional safety factors which had not been applied before. Thus the Caesar was the safest and fastest ship in the Terran spacefleet.

  Col. Sukril was fully aware of this fact. He sat in front of the screen for another half hour and monitored the flight, the course and the velocity. Then he called his First Officer to him. "Maj. Brokov, you can take over now. Call me if you think it's necessary. All incoming hypercom messages are to be recorded. I'll go through them later. Well—good night, Major."

  "Good night, sir," said Brokov, saluting. He relaxed again only after Sukril had left the Control Central. He had crinkly dark hair, was stockily built, in fact almost too broad in the shoulders, but seemed otherwise to be of an easy-going nature. "The Skipper's sure a stickler for spit and polish, wouldn't you say, Henderson?"

  The navigation officer, Capt. Henderson, placed his hands on the star charts and grinned. "I think he must even sleep with his fingers on his pant seams," he reflected. "But on the other hand I don't believe we could imagine a better commander."

  "I'll buy that, Henderson—all the way!" Brokov sat down. "You want to give me the usual poop?"

  The other nodded toward the screen. "Course is border zone BM-53-XB. Present speed is 370,000 light units. Acceleration constant at 3X factor. The target area ETA is 50 hours as she goes. So far nothing unusual has come up."

  "Thanks, Henderson." Brokov removed his gaze from the screen to look at the captain. "I hear we have the mutant, Pucky, on board."

  "He was assigned to us as you know but he only arrived at the last minute. The Old Man almost came apart."

  "I can imagine because I know Pucky, actually. We once flew a mission together with Rhodan. As I recall, he doesn't go much for the rule book. Well, he'll have his hands full now that his little Bopeep is with him."

  "Come again?"

  Brokov grinned significantly. "The little mouse-beaver gal we picked up on Mars. Seems as if having one of them on board isn't enough. I'm afraid on this flight the Colonel may suffer a stroke."

  "He can adjust himself to a lot of things," Henderson assured him. And he went back to his work of checking out the ship's course.

  At this time a quite different discussion was going on in Pucky's cabin. Pucky sat with his legs drawn under him in the farthest corner of his couch and with his back pressed against the wall. It seemed as if he would have been happy to go back farther if it had been physically possible. Sitting all neat and proper on the edge of the couch was another mouse-beaver.

  As seen through human eyes, at first glance there might have been no observable difference between them although Iltu only wore a pastel green combination without any rank insignia, instead of a uniform. Also Iltu was slightly smaller and of a more delicate build than Pucky but that was the only outward difference. Even Iltu had an incisor tooth which showed when she laughed but it was not gleaming white like Pucky's. Rather it was a pale pink counterpart. She had the same brown badger eyes and the same flat beaver tail although it was somewhat smaller. Her suit pants had no special arrangement in the seat but merely a hole. The tail with its silky red-brown fur lay directly in front of Pucky.

  He made a disdainful face. "Do you all run around on Mars like that?" As if to change the subject he added: "How's the settlement getting along, anyway?"

  Iltu briefly flashed her pink incisor at him. "You've been long overdue for a visit to us, you know. All the children want to see their grandpa."

  Pucky stiffened in sudden shock. "Grandpa!" he gasped. "Are they referring tome with that name?"

  Pucky slumped despondently. "So that's what those dorky rascals call gratitude! I rescue them from certain death on Vagabond, bring them to Earth, settle them down on Mars and give them a new home—and then they call me grandpa! How disrespectable can you get?"

  Iltu shook her delicately-shaped head. "Haven't you always pointed out what youngsters we were in comparison to you? Haven't you always said that compared to us you were old and wise? Well, then—there you have a grandpa.

  "If Bell heard that he'd die laughing."

  "Bell? Is that the fat fellow with the fire-red hair?"

  Pucky grinned cheerfully, having forgotten the "grandpa" subject. "Yes, that's him but don't let him hear you call him fat or he'll have you for supper in spite of your pretty eyes."

  Iltu moved closer. "Do I have pretty eyes?" she whispered hopefully.

  Pucky's incisor vanished as he sought to press himself farther into the corner. "Uh—what I was asking you—how is the colony doing on Mars these days?"

  Iltu pouted. "All day long we get schooling or sports. We hardly ever get to play anymore. They've put an energy dome over the settlement—so that nobody can rob us, they say. But I think they put it there to keep us from having some real fun."

  Of course by "fun and play', Iltu referred to telekinesis. The young mouse-beavers used their natural gift by way of amusement—moving every possible object—including men—from one place to another through the force of their minds. For the officers and personnel of the Martian base this type of. "fun and games" often resulted in some unpleasant surprises—hence the energy dome.

  "But we still play anyway," Iltu continued. "We can do it inside the dome." She sighed. "but I'm glad to be flying with you. That's a real nice vacation."

  Pucky frowned sternly. "This is no vacation," he said. "You have been assigned to me as a pupil. As it is, you're far too young—I mean, too inexperienced—to be of much help to me. But I'll do what I can. How is your teleportation?"

  She seemed to become a bit smaller, as if shrinking from the subject. "It's nothing special," she finally answered candidly. "My telekinesis is great—as well as telepathy. But I'm still learning teleportation whenever they give me the chance."

  "We'll have plenty of practice," Pucky promised her grimly, "before we go into any action. There's enough room here in the ship but let me tell you one thing, Iltu: there will be no 'fun and games' on board! It can cause too much grief. If you just moved one of the control levers it could be the end of all of us. We could crash into a sun or maybe even fall into a hole in time."

  "Fall where?" Iltu raised her ears, which was becoming to her.

  "That's a special expression," Pucky told her evasively. "Anyway, there'll be no telekinesis unless I order it. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," she sighed. Then she got up and began to waddle flirtatiously about the cabin. "How do you like my jumpsuit outfit?"