The Vega Sector Read online

  From the now invisible spaceport, new fighter ships of the space fighter force peeled off into the sky. General Pounder, whose car had passed through the force screen with seconds to spare, found himself suddenly deserted. A lone, watchful fighter robot stood near the vehicle. Pounder was pale. His questions went unanswered, and his consternation was completely ignored. Everyone seemed simply to have forgotten him.

  Colonel Freyt had emitted a single shouted oath and disappeared. He was probably racing to his command post, which lay at the edge of the spaceport. So Pounder could only arm himself with calm and patience. Somewhere someone must be looking out for him. If he had had any concept of the functioning of a positronic robot brain he would have known that the huge automaton was aware of his presence. It wasn't without purpose that the nonhuman fighter machine stood by the car.

  When the Arkonide computer brain registered the fact that the general was harmless and that, in addition, he had been announced, an inaudible data link signal was directed at the robot. Pounder winced as the car leaped forward and raced at high speed toward the still distant government palace.

  When it arrived, an officer of the Intelligence Corps was waiting for the general. Pounder hesitated for a moment, then recognized the politely smiling man. Three years before, Li Tschubai-tung had achieved considerable international notoriety. Now he had come to be an official intelligence liaison between the Third Power and the Asiatic Federation.

  Wordlessly, Pounder touched a finger to the peak of his service cap. One certainly ran into a lot of old acquaintances, he thought.

  "Please wait in the reception lobby, sir," he was directed. "At the moment, none of the top officials may be contacted, which I hope you can appreciate."

  "Why the alert?" the general asked briskly. "What's happened? Are you able to tell me anything?"

  "I have been explicitly authorized to do so, sir. Please come in. Don't let the threatening posture of the robots disturb you. It's all part of the alert plan. They are under fully automatic control."

  Pounder looked around in the great hall, which presented a combination of synthetics, glass, and light effects. Here, too, there was intense activity. In the background he recognized the scintillating shafts of the fabulous antigravity elevators. Everywhere there was evidence of the most modern architectural technology, materials, and furnishings.

  About a 120 million bucks, he calculated roughly to himself. He had a nose for such things.

  "Mr. Bell will attend you later. That you happened to be present here at this time is very fortunate. I've been commissioned to give you a briefing. Under present circumstances we are going to have to ask you, under the agreements of Emergency Condition One, to convene the World Security Commission immediately. If agreeable in Peking, which is centrally located. Please work out the necessary decisions as quickly as possible. Our communication facilities are at your disposal."

  "Pounder spoke with difficulty. "Okay, Lieutenant—I've got the message. But...are we really in it so deep again? I was thinking of a similar case that happened three years ago. Alien life forms tried in some fiendish way to take over the bodies and minds of our most important politicians and scientists. So now what is it? And have you informed the secret service yet?"

  "The classified code signal was beamed out automatically. We do not waste time here, sir. Up until now, we didn't have many details to go on. Our robot sentinel station on the planet Pluto merely transmitted the locator data from our space warp sensors."

  "Friend, you're looking at an inoffensive, harmless sort of man who's asking himself how come he can call himself a general and chief of the U.S. Space Force," Pounder retorted disparagingly. "We play around with balky rockets while you people are riding faster than light spaceships. Now, what the devil is a space warp sensor?"

  Li Tschubai-tung smiled politely. Outside, an infernal roaring sound was heard. It increased to a crashing fortissimo that died away in echoing rumbles. Pounder knew what it was, but had never heard it in such volume.

  The Chinese agent explained casually, "The Good Hope has just taken off, under command of the two Arkonides. You recall the auxiliary ship of their cruiser that was destroyed on the moon?"

  "Auxiliary!" groaned Pounder. Mister, to me a sixty yard diameter spherical Spaceship is a colossus! But I'm asking you—what is a space warp sensor!"

  "It is an Arkonide locator device. Its purpose is to sense and determine four dimensional structure changes in the normal cosmos. It is based on a measurement of gravitational displacement. Since gravitation is a manifestation of hyperspace energy, the warp sensors respond at translight velocity. When they emit a signal, it means that somewhere within a radius of about fifty light-years the curved structure of space has been ruptured by a powerful force. In our experience this can only mean a hyperspace jump by a faster than light spaceship—a so-called transition. However, when this occurs at such close range, the defense center of the Third Power instantly goes into action. Because then, as you say, it could be our necks, sir!"

  Pounder felt deflated. He hadn't understood a word. "I got about as much of that as a caveman," he said. "You and Rhodan are the most capable scientists. Okay, lieutenant, say no more. I've always supported you, first against my orders, then against my oath as a soldier, and finally with the sanction of my government You go; I'll wait. You've probably got a few things to do. Just don't forget, a very dumbfounded man is hare waiting for you."

  "Sir, when mankind is truly united, all this will be fully explained to you. Although the peacefulness of the world is constantly improving, it's still in everyone's best interest that Perry Rhodan alone holds total power in his hands. It also makes him duty bound to protect his world and ours. Please consider my words. The chiefs of intelligence of the three greatest world powers will arrive no later than one hour from now. Now you will have to excuse me. I have to get busy."

  Li Tschubai-tung hurried away. He left behind him a deeply disquieted man whose only refuge was in watching the clock.

  Just then a small girl grasped him about the legs. She was accompanied by a young woman whom he recognized, but he had only heard of this delicately structured child with the pale face and the great, burning eyes.

  "How are you, Mrs. Manoli?" he inquired mechanically of the young woman—but it was the child who captured his attention. There was something incomprehensible in her eyes.

  Hastily, he reviewed the situation. That's right—the child would be about nine years old now. For dead certain little Betty Toufry was a member of the Third Power's super-secret Mutant Corps. Pounder swallowed hard. He was well aware that Betty's father had worked in a nuclear laboratory, and the alteration of his genes had manifested itself in the child. Strangely, the result had been, not deformity, but rather an abnormally brilliant mentality that no normal human being could hope to have. In fact, he wasn't sure just what capacities the girl did possess. He made a decision to speak to the Western sector intelligence chief about it. Pounder didn't especially like the idea that Perry Rhodan not only sheltered such monsters but schooled them, as well.

  He started as the girl turned from him abruptly. She went and stood close to the shimmering force field of the anti-gravity elevator.

  "You should not think such things. sir." Her words came to him like a gentle wind across the great hall.

  Pounder sank down into his seat. He knew that he was witnessing a true natural telepath, a being before whom one's most secret thoughts lay bare. Suddenly he felt chilled to the spine.

  A phantom raced through the deep blackness of space. The high pitched whine of the pulse drive engines working at full thrust was hardly noticeable to the man who sat almost unmoving behind the controls. But Perry Rhodan's thoughts were racing. He traversed the lunar orbit at high velocity. The Earth glowed already across the bow of the little space combat ship. The reversed field tubes spewed a stream of particles ahead of him, against his direction of flight. In this manner the small, torpedo-shaped machine braked itself with a de
celeration of three hundred miles per second,

  Rhodan checked the automatic approach indicator again. When he reached the altitude of the satellite orbit he would have to be at reentry velocity. Glimmering flecks of light appeared on the screen of the translight speed hypersensor. From the speaker of the voice link system crackled fragmentary words, but he paid no heed. The objects shooting toward him now had been built by human beings, and those who sat in the narrow pressure cabins of the fighter ships were also human.

  On the small picture screen of the telecom, a young man's face appeared. His brief nod was accompanied by a smile.

  "Deringhouse to Comet One—second alert group taking off. We're going into picket position. Do you have any orders, Chief?"

  Perry lifted the microphone to his lips. Before him the Earth grew out of the void like a gigantic ball. The continents of the Western Hemisphere and a large part of the Pacific were clearly discernible. The European coastline merged into the dark shadow crescent of night.

  "None. At least, not yet. Keep the traffic down, please. I've already got the reports, Has the alert been established?"

  "As programmed, All hell's busted loose down there."

  Rhodan broke off the communication.

  Major Deringhouse's fighter group shot past into space as the incoming ship made its reentry manoeuvres. Moments later, Rhodan went into his braking orbit. This took him once around the Earth, until he dipped with a flaming heat shield into the upper layers of the atmosphere. The white glowing gases of the displaced air masses roared in the vacuum created by the fighter ship. It was as though a meteor hurtled through the thickening strata of the skies.

  Rhodan used a fast approach landing technique of the Arkonides. All the power of the repulse projector was concentrated on an ionization of air molecules, which could thus be repelled out of the path of the plunging ship. This, too, was a development of which a capable man like General Pounder would hardly have dared to dream. Perry Rhodan put it to use with the casual confidence born of his special knowledge.

  He took little notice of the screaming turbulence created by his penetration of the thicker layers of the atmosphere; his thoughts were concentrated on the significance of the Condition One Alert, an eventuality he had worked with an almost clairvoyant anxiety to prepare for. And now the long dreaded emergency was upon him.

  He still did not know precisely what had happened, hat the fact that the positronic robot brain had set up the alert was an indication that the existence of Earth and its position in the galaxy were in danger of being discovered, For three years Rhodan's thoughts and plans had revolved around this point. Three years previously, shortly after the establishment of the Third Power, extraterrestrial beings had succeeded for the first time in getting a foothold on Earth. After that crisis was past, weeks, months, and years had passed without untoward event, so that the feverish building activity in the area of the Third Power might have been considered over-accelerated.

  He had been given just three years of time. During this brief period at least a firm stabilization of world peace had been achieved, and he had been able to unite the great powers of the world into a single defense coalition.

  How futile that would all be if the Earth should again be discovered! What would happen in this still embryonic stage of preparation, if the presence of alien intelligences were to be confirmed and they were about to move against this island home of mankind and try to land here or launch a surprise blitz? Rhodan's darkest fears had been confirmed by the advent of the Condition One Alert.

  The northern Siberian coastline came into view. The radiation detectors indicated that he was being scanned by countless radar stations. Down below they knew who this was who came shooting out, of space in this seemingly reckless and crazy flight.

  Mongolia came into the field of vision. As the gleaming energy shield surrounding the center area of the Third Power blossomed out on his observation screen, Rhodan recalled the emergency landing he had made here three years ago, returning in an Earth rocket from the moon. He and his companions had been the first men to make a lunar landing, and what they had found there had made it necessary to set down in an isolated area of Earth. They had brought the Arkonides with them.

  That had set off a chain reaction of violent activity. The heated arguments and fighting had begun. Attack after attack had been launched by the major countries against the center of this new power, until it was realized how over-powering the alien technology and means of defense could be. Then the concept 'Arkonide' had appeared for the first time in the world press. Today it was universally known that there was much to thank the aliens for. On the other hand—and this was a deciding factor—their accidental appearance had opened the definite possibility of Earth's being discovered by others.

  Probably the planet Earth might have remained a completely unknown celestial body for a considerable time to come, if the Arkonide cruiser had not beamed out an automatic distress signal when it was destroyed by hydrogen bombs. That signal had needled through interstellar space clear to the Milky Way. From that moment on, Earth's lotus dream of isolation was at an end.

  As Rhodan transmitted his IFF code to the defense triggered robot brain and the fighter was taken over by the remote control station, he was convinced of one thing for sure—the human race was in for a sudden and no doubt terrible awakening. Now men would have to accept conclusively the fact that other highly intelligent beings existed, beings against whom humans had nothing, or almost nothing to compare. The tall, lean man in the narrow pressurized cockpit frowned deeply under the weight of these deliberations. It was up to him and the two surviving Arkonides to do what ever they could for the safety of the world.

  The ship landed smoothly. The small high yield reactor behind the cockpit radiation shield damped down and thereby cut off the powerful energy converter systems...

  Colonel Freyt saluted briskly. His penetrating glance took in the sinewy figure of his returning commander.

  Rhodan flipped his pressurized helmet back. In his gray eyes glimmered a subdued tension. Silently, he took the offered cigarette.

  The chief would not have led one to believe, by his appearance, that he had just tested a space fighter in the vicinity of Mars about an hour ago. Rhodan remained the man without nerves. At least he had excellent control, having learned to deny the existence of physical manifestations.

  "Chief, the Good Hope has taken off under command of Thora and Khrest," Freyt announced, "Deringhouse and Nyssen have taken up about fifty-four ships. I held the third group back on standby. If necessary we can move on fifty seconds' notice. Just before the alert General Pounder arrived; he's waiting in the government building. One question, Chief—what's happened? Down here, we—"

  "Bell isn't talking, eh?" Rhodan interrupted, "Then don't ask I'm not cued in myself. Keep your eyes open. Take care of my ship, okay?"

  Deeply troubled, Freyt's eyes followed the departing helicopter. The chopper, in sharp contrast to the superior facilities of the Third Power, was of normal terrestrial fabrication. In the background be saw the dome-shaped defense screen collapse for a brief second; then Rhodan was inside. Immediately the great bell of energy arched anew into the blue sky of the Gobi Desert.

  Rhodan landed on the rooftop helicopter port of the government building. He smiled ironically when the robots saluted him. To him it was petty nonsense to load the complicated brains of the fighting machines with such incidental programming. Rhodan had no patience for grandiose ceremonies.

  Only one human appeared, to receive him. The thin faced, dark haired man also wore the new uniform of the Third Power, but the becoming uniform bore no insignia of rank. Instead there gleamed on his left breast an unusual service patch, which on closer inspection revealed a brain surrounded by a shining aura. The mutant, John Marshall, waited until Rhodan's gaze locked with his. He sensed instinctively what was going on inside the cranium of this great man. It seemed to him almost as if Rhodan were deliberately delaying his entrance in
to the command center.

  "Hello, Marshall! How goes it with the mind reading business?"

  "Not so well, where you are concerned," asserted the other.

  "You are expected, sir. Bell is beside himself. The world security leaders will be here in about fifteen minutes. We don't quite know what's going to develop."

  Rhodan stepped wordlessly into the shimmering field of the antigrav lift, which carried them weightlessly below. Marshall was thinking of how Rhodan might handle himself in this situation. In contrast to the madhouse atmosphere inside the government building, he seemed the epitome of calm and self-possession. Marshall probed cautiously, searching for the thought content of his dark blond companion.

  Rhodan's hair was damp with perspiration. He still wore his light spacesuit.

  "Cut it off, Marshall!" Rhodan said darkly. "You're bumping against a wall. Have you tried probing General Pounder?"

  Marshall frowned, Sudden displeasure kindled in his dark eyes. "He thinks we are monsters!" he growled. "Certain people don't appear willing to realize that we, the so-called monsters, came into being only as a result of monstrous nuclear research."

  Rhodan smiled grim amusement. "Otherwise Pounder is clean, right? Listen, John, you shouldn't get worked up over monster inferences and similar expressions you may hear. You have to think of the normal human and how he would react to your superhuman gifts. Now as to myself—"

  His words were drowned out by the heavy thunder of a landing spaceship. At the next floor, Rhodan sprang out of the lift. "The Good Hope has come back!" he exclaimed.

  "I should have coordinated that with you. Thora thinks it advisable to leave the ship under the energy screen for the time being. Reg Bell has blocked his mind from me. I can't detect what be thinks of it. I still don't even know what's really happened."