Thora's Sacrifice Page 3

  For a moment Deringhouse hesitated. He suddenly remembered the warning of the Chief Physician: "You must pull yourself together, General, when you see Thora!"

  He turned left to an arched stairway leading to the western side of the spacious cottage and walked up the soundless steps with a feeling of dismay. At the top of the stairs he stepped directly into a room with walls of glass facing the outside.

  And there he suddenly stood before Thora without expecting it! But—could this be Perry Rhodan's wife?

  An inner voice called out to Deringhouse again: "You must pull yourself together, General, when you see Thora!"

  "Deringhouse, you...?"

  He heard her voice and recognized her by its sound as he stood gazing at an ancient woman with a withered small face and thousands of tiny wrinkles. Her blood-drained, wizened lips attempted to smile as she extended an almost transparent hand covered by a skin resembling parchment.

  My God! Deringhouse thought, shaken more by compassion than horror, as he pressed Thora's hand, she was so young and beautiful only a year ago!

  "What a pleasure it is for me that you come to visit me, Deringhouse. Please sit down!"

  He was unable to force a conventional smile. The situation made Deringhouse feel extremely uncertain. Had Rhodan neglected to prepare her for his visit despite his assurance?

  "Oh yes," she said, "my husband has promised me a surprise. It would have something to do with your visit. What's this all about, Deringhouse?"

  At this moment an amazing change came over Thora. The pale color of her face and her hands began to look more normal. Almost from one second to the next the multitude of little wrinkles on her face seemed to diminish. She blossomed out again and the faint reflection of a glow in her gorgeous Arkonide eyes inspired the still doubt-plagued Deringhouse.

  When he saw this wonderful and astounding metamorphosis of Thora, Deringhouse exclaimed with almost youthful enthusiasm: "Thora, I've come to fly to Arkon with you. Perry Rhodan thinks you're the right person to negotiate the purchase of 100 battleships from the Robot Brain."

  Deringhouse, who could fly the smallest pursuit ship as well as a super-battleship of the Imperium class, had not been promoted to general because of his friendly relations with Rhodan. He had earned his rank by hard work and was at home in every science except the psychology of women. Here he felt as helpless as a baby.

  Yet he had unconsciously acted with so much skill that many a psychologist would have been envious had they been able to witness his conversation.

  The tone in which he said it sounded so true and appealing and his words were enhanced by his beaming freckled face.

  "I can go to Arkon...?" Was Thora aware that she had spoken in her mother tongue? She was gripped by exhilaration which tended to make her the young, fascinating and beautiful woman again who was admired without guile as Perry Rhodan's companion by billions of people.

  Dr. Villnoess had also foreseen this condition and had provided Deringhouse with recommendations for coping with such a case. "General, be careful that Thora undertakes her task with equanimity. Don't forget that she is exhausted and that too much excitement can be dangerous for her."

  With this in mind Deringhouse continued with instinctive finesse. "Thora, the flight to Arkon and especially the negotiations with the Giant Brain won't be easy. May I give you a brief outline how your husband..."

  She shook her head and put her hand on his arm. "Deringhouse, you can't imagine what it means to me that I can assume a new duty and make a worthwhile contribution to our cause!" She laughed like a young girl as she confessed her feelings. "Suddenly I don't feel tired anymore. I can move my arms without effort. I don't think I need Ishy to help me up. Would you offer me your arm, General?"

  The last question was asked half in fun and half in earnest. Thora leaned forward to rise up. "No, thank you, I can do it without your assistance," she declined the help he rushed to offer her.

  She got up and stood erect by her own effort like a healthy person. "Now I'll take your arm, General!" She no longer called him Deringhouse as she had done until now and emphasized instead the title General with laughing eyes.

  Deringhouse presented his arm to Thora, who clasped it happily and walked proudly at his side with light steps.

  "Deringhouse..." It was the first time she had spoken to him in such an intimate tone. He glanced at her sideways and was again assailed by doubts.

  They descended the arched staircase and she had no trouble walking down the steps. Thora continued speaking. "I believe there was only one time in my entire life when I was as happy as I am today: the moment when I became aware to whom my heart belonged. It's a pity that Perry's not here and that I can't tell him this personally instead of on the awful picture screen. Please, Deringhouse, let him know every word and how strong I feel today... oh, Deringhouse... to die happily is a beautiful death! But why did you shudder? Because I spoke of my death? Well, am I going to fly with you to Arkon?"

  He hastily answered her last question. "Yes, Thora. We'll take the Burma. It's a light cruiser of the State class."

  They paused when they came to the library below. Thora's hand rested lightly on his arm as she gazed at him. "...and there's no need to lie to me on our trip, Deringhouse. Do you know Dr. Villnoess?"

  He simply nodded.

  "So do I. And I've learned from him about sarcoma F Arkon—the cancer of a type which can affect only Arkonides. But I can see that you too know already all about it and it's therefore unnecessary to conceal my condition... Oh!"

  A door had opened noiselessly and suddenly the dainty Japanese telepath Ishy Matsu stood before them. "Thora!" she smiled.

  The telepathic girl, who could read the thoughts of the Arkonide woman, was beside herself with joy over the about face which had occurred in the moribund woman. She made no effort to constrain her emotions and although they were unable to understand the flow of Japanese words, they could easily comprehend the ecstatic delight of her expressions.

  "Deringhouse, when do we start?"

  The mutant girl, who didn't dare read the thoughts of the general, looked at him in amazement.

  He smiled. "Tomorrow, we'll take off from Terrania. And you..." he turned to Ishy Matsu, "are going to accompany Thora."

  Those in the Mutant Corps who could remember the time when there was only an arrogant and proud Arkonide Thora, who regarded the Terrans as barbarians, had now to admit that Thora had developed into a charming woman, free of conceit or similar ugly faults, of character.

  "But of course Ishy will go with me, Deringhouse. May I introduce my friend to you...?" And now Thora could laugh heartily when she saw that the young and graceful mutant girl turned red with embarrassment and pleasure as she bowed before her.

  Gen. Deringhouse spent the next hour chatting pleasantly with the wife of the Chief while in the other rooms things were packed for the trip.

  4/ MYSTERY MESSAGE FOR ARALON

  The Burma, a cruiser of the State class, measuring 100 meters in diameter with a complement of 150 men, stood ready to start on the huge spaceport of Terrania. Only one hatch was still open. They waited for Gen. Deringhouse to come aboard as the last man. The starting time of the ship had already been delayed 30 minutes and the programming for the first transition of the light cruiser had by now become inapplicable.

  Deringhouse had been called back as he was on his way to the Burma. Now he sat across from Marshall Freyt with a message from Perry Rhodan on the table between them. It was as usual short and succinct.

  CHANGE PLAN TO FLY DIRECTLY TO ARKON. PROCEED TO FRONT OF BLOCKADE SHIPS AND CONTACT RO-BRAIN AFTER EMERGING. CODEWORD GARYLOON 010 ARKON. RHODAN.

  Deringhouse had just put down the message and now gazed pensively into a corner. Marshall Freyt, Rhodan's deputy on Earth during his absence, cleared his throat. Deringhouse looked at him questioningly.

  "What do you make of it, Deringhouse?" the Deputy asked.

  The two men had mutual respect and knew ea
ch other well enough to talk frankly. Notwithstanding, the general was hesitant. He failed to understand the meaning of Rhodan's surprising instructions and they caused him a great deal of concern. Without Thora aboard he would have worried little about it but now each doubt weighed twice as heavy.

  "Thora?" Freyt asked tersely.

  "That too." Deringhouse was not very loquacious.

  "Blockade front? Or what bothers you about this order?"

  "Do you understand it, Marshall? I don't.

  At this moment a light cruiser fell—in the literal sense of the word—on the spaceport of Terrania. With a tremendous roar the whipped-up masses of air in the wake of the landing spacesphere thundered with the force of 10 hurricanes across the capital of the Solar Imperium.

  Freyt and Deringhouse looked at each other. By the manner of the landing they had recognized who the pilot of the cruiser was. Among the thousands of people who belonged to the Spacefleet there was only one who could not always repress his urge to perform such an act of bravura: Reginald Bell.

  The telecom clicked and before his picture appeared on the screen, the voice of Rhodan's deputy bellowed: "Freyt, is Deringhouse still there?"

  "Yes, sir..."

  "Tell him to wait for me. I'll be there in a minutes!"

  Freyt switched over to the Space Observation Station and inquired: "This is Freyt. Did you monitor from which planet Bell's ship departed?"

  "From Grautier, Marshall!" came the instant reply.

  "Thank you!"

  "Hm..." was Deringhouse's taciturn comment. Then they waited. Being soldiers, they were used to it.

  With the same swagger Reginald Bell had brought in his cruiser he entered Marshall Freyt's office. "The Chief sent me," he announced buoyantly and sat down. "Deringhouse, you're to break through to the overlap zone and stop short before it. The Ro-Brain has interceded again and insisted that Rhodan call him from there before he makes the leap to Arkon. As soon as you arrive at the front you'll call the super Positronic by hyper-radio. You know the code word by which the computer brain will recognize you as Rhodan's representative. But I didn't come to Terra in this tour de force because of such bagatelles. Deringhouse, the Robot Brain on Arkon has always been a treacherous liability in my opinion."

  "I don't believe that Rhodan or Atlan know how I feel in my heart about it. And this soulless monster has changed its behavior during the last 24 hours very erratically. The main station on Grautier has intercepted almost 100 radio messages from the Positronic Brain and was able to decipher them thanks to the Solar Intelligence Service. Either the gigantic apparatus has cracked up or it is in great trouble. There's no other way to explain its behavior. Orders... orders countermanded... the retracted orders issued again... and so on and on. I almost feel sorry for the Arkonide robots because of the confusion the Brain has created for hours. Of course the Druufs have quickly realized that there was something awry at the blockade front and they've put an enormous spacefleet into the field. We must reckon with the possibility that the Druufs will pierce the front during the next few hours and roll it up from behind. Well, this is point one and now comes point two, gentlemen. Until the situation at the front can somehow be stabilized, all traffic between Grautier and the Solar system must be suspended. Radio communications are permitted only with your written orders, Marshall. The duration of the action should be limited to a few hours. You, Deringhouse, have to be prepared that the Ro-Brain accepts your proposals at one moment and rejects it the next. You're responsible for Thora's condition of health. Don't expose her to undue strains but don't let her notice that you want to spare her. I don't envy you this job, General! And now the reason why I've come to Terra, Deringhouse. We have received a message on Grautier which was unfortunately very garbled. It came from an agent on Aralon..."

  Deringhouse and Freyt exclaimed simultaneously in astonishment: "From Aralon?"

  Aralon was the central planet of the Aras, the galactic medical scientists. These people of Arkonide descent were by sheer numbers a most powerful nation in the Great Empire and the sole producers of medicaments.

  A whole society had made a lucrative business out of its citizens' natural talent to discover the complexities of illnesses. For thousands of years they had sold their preparations throughout the known world of the Galaxy for cold cash. Their attitude could not be condemned although it was not compatible with the ethics of Terranian physicians. However in order to promote their pharmacy business these Aras had not shied away from schemes to perpetuate diseases and infections on a global scale.

  A few times Perry Rhodan had come down hard on these galactic medicine peddlers and taught them a lesson which they were not apt to forget in the next 1000 years. But the distrust of the Aras smouldered with undiminished force in the minds of humans on Earth.

  "From Aralon!" Bell repeated grimly, making no secret of his feelings about that world. "The message from the agent stumps us because it's so garbled. Perhaps we're already seeing ghosts on Grautier but Perry Rhodan... gentlemen, you know the boss... he claims that the message has something to do with our visit to Arkon. Here, this is the message!"

  It consisted of four words, only one of which was complete: ... CHIRU... ORD... ENCEPH... ARKON...

  Suddenly Deringhouse felt hot under his uniform. "Sir," he said excitedly. "I've been given a few lessons in medicine during the past days... ENCEPH... this is medical lingo for brain." He jerked his right shoulder as if he wanted to throw something off. I can't explain it but I'm also convinced that this telegram has some connection with the flight of the Burma to Arkon. I can't help feeling that the monstrous Positronicon is planning a dastardly act—brainwashing and the like. The way I figure it, the Robot Brain demands that we appear at the blockade front because it doesn't know as yet that I'll visit him in place of Perry Rhodan. This eliminates the danger that our ship will be destroyed by their guns the moment we emerge from hyperspace but it doesn't reduce the danger that we'll be shot at. Afterwards they can explain the damage to a terrestrial spaceship by a chain of unfortunate accidents. In the meantime our crew can be killed while the most important persons aboard can continue on their journey to Arkon in an unscathed condition and be subjected to brainwashing. And to think that Thora is aboard my ship!" Deringhouse stopped abruptly. His eyes wandered back and forth between Bell and Freyt.

  "Can you read thoughts, Deringhouse?" Bell asked.

  "No. Why sir?" the general inquired, bewildered.

  "Because Perry Rhodan has drawn the same conclusion from the garbled message."

  "And he hasn't changed his mind about Thora's flight to Arkon with me?"

  "He trusts you completely, General."

  "Thank you!" Deringhouse replied but the look he gave Bell was more eloquent.

  "Yes, General..." Bell got up and began pacing the floor. "Today I shot off my mouth at Perry Rhodan. I know what you're trying to say with your look at me. I told Rhodan the same thing and do you know what answer he gave my remonstrations? 'Deringhouse won't jeopardize the Burma nor will he expose Thora to any unnecessary hazards. I can't be so selfish to tell my wife that her mission must be canceled because it isn't completely safe. I don't want to reproach myself forever after that I've cast her from a vibrant mood into the dullest lethargy. If I didn't know a man like Deringhouse, I'd feel compelled to do just that. But I'm fortunate to have such a man and I'm not willing to hold up the start of the Burma.' What do you say, Gen. Deringhouse?" Bell asked finally, looking questioningly at him.

  The general also rose from his seat. "If one is aware of a danger that is awaiting him, it has already lost most of its sting, sir. I hope that this proverbial rule also applies in our case. Very well! The Burma will lift off immediately."

  "Good luck!" Reginald Bell said but he was obviously downhearted.

  "You've got my best wishes, Deringhouse!" Freyt called as Deringhouse left and left the two men alone in the room. Bell and Freyt stood at the window and watched the Burma blast off. The vessel soared w
ith amazing speed into the cloudless sky.

  "The dice are cast..." Bell murmured and the words that followed revealed his inner turmoil. "Why didn't I go to the Burma and say goodbye to Thora? I'm a coward..."

  The two men avoided looking into each other's eyes. The realization of what Thora meant to mankind on Earth had just begun to dawn on them to its full extent—now that they were bereft of any hope of ever seeing her again.

  And before Freyt realized what he said, he asked Bell: "Has the son been informed?"

  The burly figure of Reginald Bell spun hastily around, wild anger flaring in his eyes and fists doubled up. "No! And I'll tell you why, Freyt. Because this creep refuses to listen to his father. In the whole Solar Imperium there's only one obdurate lout who dares to say to Perry Rhodan: Go to hell! I'll have nothing to do with you! And the one who has that impertinence is his son. Any other questions, Marshall?" he asked in a sharp tone.

  "No, sir!" Freyt replied and wanted to give him a military salute.

  "Oh, cut out this nonsense, Freyt. I always blow my top when I'm reminded of what that miserable Lt. Thomas Cardif had the nerve to tell me. It must have been rotten how he abused his own father. Well, let's drop the subject. I've got to go back to Grautier. See you soon, Freyt!"

  "So long, sir," Marshall bid him farewell and was alone again.

  5/ THORA RADIANT

  Joe Pasgin, First Officer of the Burma, had already begun to worry about the prolonged absence of Deringhouse when the general entered the Command Center of the light cruiser and stopped with a troubled expression before the switched-off observation screen.

  "Start the ship, Pasgin," Deringhouse said without turning his face to him. "And to tell you the latest first of all: our first stop will be the blockade front of the Arkonide robotships at the overlap-zone."

  Joe Pasgin was about to touch the synchronized switch when his hand paused in midair. He remained motionless as did all the other men who were present in the Command Center. Each looked questioningly, surprised and confused, at their commander.