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  One of the Gazelles was prepared for takeoff.

  These excellent long-range reconnaissance ships were disc-shaped, with a 100-foot diameter and a height of 60 feet. Their cruising range was limited to 500 light-years and they could accomplish hyperspace transits of five light-years.

  Rhodan selected the Afroterranian, Capt. Fron Wroma, for its commander. He was an especially talented pilot and officer. Two cadets were to accompany him, along with Communications Officer Sgt. Redkens.

  When Swoofon came within two light-hours distance, Rhodan gave the order to start.

  On the equatorial bulge of the Drusus a lock opened soundlessly and a silvery shadow flitted with lightning swiftness into empty space and began to hurtle toward the still-distant planet with increasing acceleration.

  On board the Drusus the long time of idle waiting began.

  Two hours later they received a radio message from Sgt. Redkens: "No sign of Agent Kulman! Where are we supposed to find him?"

  Rhodan narrowed his eyes at this and looked at Sikermann, who sat next to him in order not to neglect the controls of the Command Central. No one had expected Kulman to maintain radio silence after he had sent such an urgent message asking to be picked up. If one could rely on the Arkonide catalogs, Swoofon was an unusually peace-loving and harmless world. So Kulman couldn't be in any danger. At the most it was no doubt some kind of vital information he'd come across that had motivated him to signal them in the first place.

  And now he maintained radio silence, although he must have heard the Gazelle's request for coordinates.

  There was something not quite right about it...

  Rhodan spoke into the microphone: "Maintain your search tracking, Redkens! Kulman has to answer! In ten minutes I'll be waiting for your affirmative reply."

  "I'll contact you, sir," promised Redkens and cut off.

  Once more, Rhodan waited.

  Meanwhile, Fron Wroma approached the night side of the silent planet at reduced speed. He saw only a few lights on the surface and then recalled that the Swoon lived mainly under ground. They had only built a few cities on the equatorial crust of their world because the surface was so barren that not even the most primitive plant forms could exist. That was the most surprising thing about Swoofon: there was no vegetation of any kind.

  Redkens kept sending out an uninterrupted call signal for Kulman and his receiver was open for reception. If the agent couldn't hear the call, then the devil must have a hand in it.

  But it wasn't the devil.

  When the ten minute time allowance was almost at an end, the sergeant suddenly pricked up his ears. Out of the speaker emerged ordinary Morse code, but apparently without making any sense. The tracking antenna swung automatically around and indicated the direction in which the transmitter was located. It pointed to a spot that was obliquely under the antenna.

  "45° descent, right 30°."

  Redkens sounded off the coordinates calmly while Wroma swung the Gazelle into a right-hand descent glide. The surface came closer. It was getting brighter as they now approached the day side. On the infrared screen they could see a stony and desolate wasteland in which life could hardly be expected to grow.

  And here was where Kulman was supposed to be sitting and waiting for them? Obviously so because the Morse had grown louder and stronger.

  After crossing over a high plateau they were exactly above the transmitter. Unless the twilight here was deceiving, their man would have to be directly beneath them between two high crests, down in a fairly deep and narrow canyon. How Kulman had ever gotten there in the first place was a riddle. Neither Wroma nor Redkens suspected that it would always remain a puzzle.

  The Gazelle pancaked down and streaked past the rocky cliffs toward the bottom of the canyon. Finally it settled gently on the bank of a small race of water that soon lost itself somewhere in the loose rubble of the place.

  A few yards away an indistinct figure rose up between them and the cliff wall, beckoning to them.

  "I'm going out to him myself," said Wroma, cutting off the engine. "You stand by in the airlock and keep your beamer ready, no matter what. I'm not about to get sucked in by a trick. There's something about this whole setup that scrags me."

  "How come?" asked the Communications man, shaking his head. "The tracking coordinates agree. So far so good."

  "I have the responsibility here," returned the African, thus ending the discussion. He got up and prepared to enter the nearby airlock. Redkens followed him with his beamer in a fire-ready position. He appeared to have figured out that it's impossible to be too careful.

  With a muffled thud, the hatch door swung open and the somewhat stifling air of Swoofon pressed into the lock chamber. And with it came someone's shout of relief:

  "Glord (Good Lord), how long did you think you were going to make me wait for you?"

  Kulman, the micro-eyed member of the Mutant Corps, came walking toward Wroma, who waited for him suspiciously in the open airlock. Behind Wroma was Redkens, who suddenly lowered the aim of his weapon at a small fleeting shadow behind Kulman.

  "Muzzel, come on!" Kulman called, turning around.

  Now Wroma also discerned the small shadow and widened his eyes to take a better look. He had definitely recognized Kulman. There could be no further doubt about the agent's identity. But who or what was this small phantom?

  Muzzel-whoever Muzzel might be-appeared to obey Kulman's command. He had hardly given the order before the thing came running up and sat obediently at the agent's feet.

  Wroma heard Redkens let out a groan behind him.

  "Oh no!" the communications man cried out, flabbergasted. "Are we ready for this? It's a dachshund!"

  Kulman stood below at the foot of the entry ladder. "Agent Kulman reporting back from assignment. Are you going to pick me up? May I come on board?"

  Wroma leaned forward to look around. "What about your luggage?"

  "Luggage? What luggage? All I've got is the tracking transmitter. Nothing more-except Muzzel, of course."

  Again Wroma was assailed with the misgivings that had been assailing him on this trip. Every agent had special luggage containing instruments and equipment. Such devices must never be left behind except in an extreme emergency. But obviously such an emergency had not presented itself here.

  He decided to leave further investigation of the matter to the appropriate authorities. "OK, get on board-but leave that ridiculous animal where it is."

  "Do you mean Muzzel? No, I'll not leave him behind. Under no circumstance. I'll stay here myself if Muzzel can't come."

  "But how did a dachshund ever get to Swoofon?" Redkens wanted to know. He acted as though he had never seen a dachshund. "Or did you bring it here in the first place?"

  "Muzzel is a possonkal," explained Kulman, with such matter-of-factness that it seemed every Terranian space traveler must know what a possonkal was. But Wroma and Redkens had never heard of such an animal,

  "Alien animals may not come on board," said Wroma, slightly undecided. "Rhodan would be on our necks if we-"

  "Then just turn about and leave me here. I cannot leave Muzzel behind. They would kill him, those scoundrels."

  "What scoundrels?"

  "Springers! First they gave me the dog and then they tried to do me in. I knew right away that they were pirates. So? What's the verdict? Can Muzzel come along?"

  Wroma glanced at Redkens, who shrugged his shoulders.

  The African decided to take the responsibility without getting clearance from the Drums. After all, what would be the harm if Kulman did take along his little possel... puzzil... or whatever the name of the beast was?

  "Alright, bring the dachshund on board. But he'll have to be locked up till we get to the Drusus. Who knows what kind of fleas may be native to Swoofon?"

  "Muzzel does not have fleas," protested Kulman indignantly but took the precaution to add: "And even if he did, we could catch them or kill them."

  "You can be sure the disinfection u
nit on the Drusus will take care of that!" Wroma promised grimly and stepped back to let Kulman climb on board.

  At a word from Kulman, Muzzel climbed the ladder steps with astounding agility and trotted into the lock chamber with his tail wagging. He made a little dog sound and sat down, looking up at the men with a wide-eyed air of expectation.

  The lock hatch closed.

  "Take the dog through the pressure chamber and lock him up, " Wroma told the sergeant. "Kulman, you see to it that your mutt does what he's told."

  Kulman winced at the obvious affront to his companion but he maintained his composure. He stooped down to the dachshund and said: "Muzzel, now you be a brave little dog and go along with your uncle there! I'll come and get you soon, do you hear? Poppykins will pick you up later."

  It was hard for Wroma to hide a derisive grin. He'd seen some nucks (Equivalent of 1970's slang 'nuts') in his time but that a hard-boiled agent of Terra would be capable of such mawkishness was beyond him. Redkens made a mock bow and beckoned to Muzzel. The smart little animal recognized the invitation and got up. With an almost dignified mien, it strode past Redkens into the entrance corridor.

  It practically left Wroma breathless. The dachshund strode! It didn't walk or waddle or hop-not at all. It moved with a definite stride!

  Kulman watched the dog with a smile of proud ownership.

  "Now listen here, Kulman," the African told him after he and the agent reached the control room and he'd started the engines. I don't get all this. You put half the Terranian war fleet on alert with your Mayday alarm call and here you are keeping a dachshund." The planet of Swoofon fell rapidly into the dark depths of the void and dwindled away among the other stars. "Rhodan's going to be surprised at you."

  "Rhodan?" Kulman's wonderment was obviously genuine. "What does Rhodan want with me, anyway? Why is he having me picked up?"

  Wroma gasped while he corrected his course. "Having you picked up? But it was you who asked for it!"

  Kulman watched the shimmering viewscreen. "You mean I called to be picked up?" He shook his head. "One of us has to be crazy, my friend. I never even dreamed of leaving Swoofon. It was only when I received your search call that I knew anything about it."

  Wroma began to suspect that his sense of premonition had not deceived him. Something was out of kilter.

  In fact, a lot of things about this whole situation were downright wacky...

  2/ INCIDENT INEXPLICABLE

  The Drusus still hovered within two light-hours of Swoofon. The returning scoutship manoeuvred swiftly through the hangar lock and was drawn into the vast depths of the spherical ship. Meanwhile a message from Redkens had announced that Kulman had brought another passenger with him. So Muzzel had to put up with being treated like an ordinary dog and the first thing that happened to him was a trip through the disinfectant showers. It was a procedure which elicited a lot of howling but otherwise he came through without damage.

  As for Kulman, he received instructions to put in an immediate appearance in the Command Central and give his report to Rhodan.

  This he complied with, albeit with very mixed emotions. During the return flight in the Gazelle he had had ample time to converse with Wroma and Redkens. It was pointed out to him that somewhere in the situation there was a gap which apparently nobody was in a position to close.

  Rhodan stretched out a hand to his agent, which Kulman took while looking at him. He wanted to know who was present here besides himself and Rhodan. Lt.-Col. Sikermann sat in the pilot's seat and took charge of the calculations for another hypertransit which under no circumstances would lead to Earth. Reginald Bell squatted next to Pucky on the couch and watched the meeting with interest. In addition there were also Hubert Gorlat and John Marshall, the leader of the Mutant Corps and Kulman's direct superior.

  So it was a very estimable reception committee, thought the agent perplexed. What in the world did they want from him? He couldn't recall...

  "Welcome on board the Drusus, Jost Kulman," said Perry Rhodan as he looked at the micro-visioned mutant searchingly. "You've put out a three-alarm emergency call and that means a top alert. We responded immediately and picked you up. Now tell us why you wanted to leave Swoofon in such a hurry."

  Kulman took a deep breath and was prepared to make a big protest but then he remembered that Marshall was a telepath. From this moment on his thoughts would be monitored. There wasn't any sense in deceiving either himself or the others, he figured.

  "Swoofon is a peaceful and industrious planet. The inhabitants, I mean the Swoon-well, they're pretty likeable creatures and they haven't made any trouble for me. I've lived among them and had free access to their homes, as far as the existing circumstances permitted. You probably know that the Swoon are only about a foot high and so their buildings are correspondingly small. Inasmuch as the factories are all subterranean, I'm sorry to say that for the most part it was impossible for me to visit them."

  "May I ask that you give us your reason for the emergency call?" Rhodan showed his impatience.

  Kulman was startled by it. Marshall straightened up and regarded the agent closely.

  "I never sent out such a signal," said Kulman. "Only a few hours ago I received a call signal from the Gazelle and was instructed that I was to be picked up. I can't explain it. Did you receive the alarm from Swoofon?"

  Rhodan's eyes were narrowed as he replied, "Unmistakably, Kulman. And from you! I asked Central Intelligence in Terrania about it and they confirmed that very point. There can be no mistake. Exactly one day ago by Earth time you transmitted a three-alarm alert and asked to be picked up. If anybody has any explaining to do around here, Kulman, it's you."

  Marshall probed the thoughts of the agent while the latter was searching for an answer. He couldn't discover anything of a suspicious nature. As far as he could judge on the basis of telepathy, Kulman spoke the unvarnished truth. Not a word of what he had said so far was a lie. Kulman had sent out no distress signal nor had he asked to be picked up from Swoofon.

  "Maybe it has something to do with the experience I had just shortly before the call signal came from the Gazelle," he said with a slow deliberation. "But I don't know..."

  "An experience?" Rhodan's interest perked up as he glanced swiftly at Marshall, whose expression was suddenly intent. "Tell us about it. Every minor detail can be important."

  Kulman looked searchingly about and was glad when Rhodan indicated an empty chair for him. He sat down with some relief. He had suddenly come to feel very tired.

  "You mustn't think, sir, that I am of a timid nature. I've had my tests of courage and passed them all pretty well and besides that there's nothing on Swoofon to make anybody edgy. I even made out pretty well with the Springers and I was able to exchange gifts with many of them-you know, the reciprocity bit. That's how I even got Muzzel, my possonkalah, dachshund, as I guess you'd prefer to call him. Possonkals come from a distant world that's somewhere near Arkon and they're considered to be intelligent and useful house pets. They catch vermin and are normally vegetarian although they also eat meat. They like to play and they're easily tamed. In short, I was glad when they made me a present of him."

  "When was that?" interjected Rhodan.

  After an almost imperceptible hesitation, Kulman answered: "Two months ago, sir." Rhodan noticed that Marshall raised an eyebrow at this. "Yes, it was two months ago. Since then, Muzzel-that's what I named the little fellow-he's won over my friendship and my complete confidence. We've practically become inseparable."

  "Doesn't your love for animals go a little too far?" inquired Sikermann sarcastically in spite of Rhodan's warning look.

  Pucky sat up on the couch and stared at Kulman. No one could have guessed what was going on in his furry head-not even Marshall.

  "What's the objection to loving animals?" asked Kulman wonderingly. "Muzzel saved my life and I can't say that of anyone else I know-even of you, Lieutenant Colonel."

  Sikermann started as Pucky began to giggle unabashe
dly. He went along with the deserved rebuff, especially since he often regarded himself as an 'animal' and had often expressed the opinion that the majority of reasoning animals had better characters than most of civilized humanity.

  "Nobody's making any objections to your affections for this Muzzel of yours," Rhodan assured him. "But let's get down to that experience you mentioned. Maybe it will cast some light on who it was that put out a three-alarm distress signal in your name, if as you say it wasn't you who did it."

  Kulman nodded uncertainly and continued: "Everything had gone along well until today. Every day there are ships landing at the spaceport of the largest city on Swoofon, which is called Swatran. I hadn't paid much attention to them but today a certain spacecraft caught my attention right away because the crew members were acting so strangely and uncivilized. I immediately surmised that these fellows were pirates.

  "This suspicion was confirmed. They wanted to pick a fight. I had just concluded some purchases in the city and was about to return to the small village where I was staying the last week or so when these fellows jostled me around. I'm sure they were Springers. They were brutish, bearded ruffians with rayguns in their belts. It reminded me of the Wild West in America of several centuries ago.

  "Naturally I defended myself but they had the edge on me in numbers. I couldn't depend on the Swoon for any help because for one thing they're too little and besides they always give every fight a wide berth, So I was left to my own resources. I gave the first one a belly hook that sent him to the ground but this only aroused the others more. Like a bunch of commandos they grabbed for me.

  "I got away as fast as I could and ducked into a side street. You may recall that the gravity on Swoofon is only about 1/4th Earth's gravity and that came to my aid. I leaped through the streets practically broad-jumping, jumping right over the small houses in the native quarter and finally got to safety.