Spoor of the Antis Read online

  He saw that the policeman had succeeded in shocking three of his attackers. But Mulvaney wondered why the officer did not use his other hand.

  Clayton defended himself stubbornly. At least 10 men had jumped him by now. They rushed to the police cars and tore off the banners and then heaved the vehicle over onto its side, causing a cloud of dust to rise. Clayton could hear Mocaaro's anguished outcry. He kept swinging his club almost automatically.

  When somebody jumped on his back he finally fell and from the ground he could see the storefront. Mocaaro had disappeared. The panes of the display window were shattered and several men were moving about amidst the fragments. The noise of the raid was indescribable.

  Although Clayton was on his back he still continued to defend himself. But then somebody tore the shock-stick from his hand and he received a blow to the head that knocked him unconscious. The attackers dashed away from him and stormed the little shop.

  Mulvaney was the last to reach the prone policeman. The sight of the uniformed officer lying there on the ground unconscious gave him pause for a moment. The sounds coming from Mocaaro's store indicated that none of the precious liqueur had been found so far. He was sobbing softly. His mouth was parched. He sank to his knees. For awhile he just stared at the policeman's face. Then he looked at the overturned car.

  The cracking and splintering of wood came to his ears from inside the shop. There was another shattering of glass and muffled pounding sounds-then a crash. Apparently the addicts were attempting to tear a cabinet or showcase apart. From the distance came the sound of police sirens.

  Gently, Mulvaney took hold of Clayton's wrist and pulled his hand out of his jacket. He stared at it-or rather he looked at what had been hidden by the uniform coat. It was not a hand, just an artificial stump-end of where it had once been.

  They had jumped a one-handed man.

  "The poor gutsy fool!" Mulvaney muttered.

  He got up and staggered toward the shop. The sign was dangling in broken pieces. Only a few letters of the name were left. He stepped on some broken glass and slipped. A man came out of the store. His face was bloodied and his eyes seemed to burn like coals.

  "We didn't find any Liquitiv," he said apathetically."We're all going to die!" groaned Mulvaney hopelessly. The police sirens grew louder...

  4/ DRAGON SEEDS

  The Solar Imperium's chief rep for Sector Red/b 1245 11 was an important man. Since the numerical designation of his sector was only meant for card files and the positronic data banks of computers, the region he was responsible for was also called the Kapra System. Kapra was the name of the star around which orbited no less than 24 planets. The special feature of this system was that six of the 24 worlds were oxygen planets, which meant that they had been settled by colonists from Earth. By virtue of the system's magnitude and the number of planets it contained, Oliver Gibson was an extremely important man. The fact that he was presently in Terrania meant that there was an extremely important reason for it. Perry Rhodan was aware of the heavy load of responsibility such men carried and he knew it was best for them always to be in their assigned sectors whenever possible. At the present moment, however, Oliver Gibson was almost 20,000 light-years removed from the place where normally he was accustomed to watch over the destiny of the Terran colonists. He was sitting in the large briefing chamber that was located in one of the mightiest structures in Terrania.

  Other than himself there were more than 50 men and women present who were the most outstanding leaders the Solar Imperium had to offer. A pale, lean man sitting close to Rhodan appeared to be John Marshall, the chief of the legendary Mutant Corps. In addition Gibson recognized Reginald Bell, Solar Marshal Freyt and Solar Intelligence Chief Allan D. Mercant. He knew that there were a number of mutants in the room besides Marshall. General Deringhouse was engrossed in a discussion with the head rep from the Vega System. Behind Rhodan sat two men in white smocks, which gave the impression that they had been called here directly from their work.

  For a moment Gibson's attention became riveted on a human tank of a man who required two chairs to accommodate him. He wondered if this could be that Jefe Claudrin who had shot through the heart of a star together with Rhodan on board the Fantasy, the first Terran ship with linear space drive.

  But then Gibson saw the creature!

  Measuring about three feet in height, the animal looked like an overgrown mouse whose mother must have had something to do with a beaver. Gibson's eyes actually opened wide as he stared at this strange entity. It was wearing the uniform of a lieutenant of the Solar Fleet-obviously tailored to fit because there was even a special hole to accommodate its wide beaver tail.

  The creature seemed to sense Gibson's interest because it straightened up slightly. More astonishing was the fact that it was occupying the only upholstered chair available in the room. Gibson swallowed hard. He had already heard a lot about Pucky but hearing and seeing were two different things entirely.

  The mouse-beaver gazed across at him out of two button-black eyes. Then he revealed a very unpleasant-looking incisor tooth and grinned at him. Gibson felt his face flush in embarrassment. He didn't know how he should act in a case like this. After all, this creature was an officer and the deeds he had performed were a legend that had reached even the Kapra System.

  Not knowing what else to do, Gibson responded with a slight nod of his head. Pucky nodded back graciously and blinked at him drowsily.

  Perry Rhodan got up from his chair, thus turning Gibson's attention in his direction. A silence pervaded the conference chamber. Here were assembled the top leaders of the Solar Imperium, all of whom were characterized by a high sense of responsibility.

  Rhodan began. "A few weeks ago I issued an order to stop all imports of Liquitiv, both here on Earth and on all colonial planets. Also a ban was placed on all sales and distribution. Of course we knew that we couldn't cut off all supplies of the liqueur in one stroke. There was a hurried wave of panic buying and the black market was booming just as much as ever. Nevertheless, it now happens that approximately 50 million humans can no longer get their hands on this narcotic. And that number is constantly increasing, not considering the colonial planets or what's happening on the worlds of Arkon. The anti-mutants of the Baalol cult have followed a very insidious and fiendish plan. Before they arrived at the point of flooding Earth and the Arkon planets with Liquitiv they had already infested the remoter worlds with the drug."

  Rhodan paused while scanning his audience gravely. He reached for some bulletins that lay before him on the conference table. "It now looks as though we're facing a general revolt" he announced. "I have a number of reports in front of me which fill me with deep concern. In Des Moines: the mayor's house-ransacked. In Paris: an hourly increase in demonstrations. The first attempts to raid public buildings there were squelched by police and fire brigades. In Gettysburg there was a street fight between addicts and a police officer. A mob of 50 men and women beat him unconscious and destroyed his patrol car, after which they plundered a liquor store. In the same city the first suicide connected with this problem is on record now. A paralyzed recluse killed himself because he couldn't live without Liquitiv."

  He shook his head sorrowfully and his lips seemed to tighten as he continued. "Those are just a few reports among many. Meanwhile, Mr. Bell and I have decided to launch a major education campaign, which is already underway. We have to warn humanity of the dangers of this poisonous narcotic. There were great quantities of the liqueur that we were not able to confiscate and these will probably be sold more or less openly at some piratical price. It's therefore axiomatic that we have to make it clear to people, once and for all, the danger that's involved in taking the elixir."

  Gen. Deringhouse stood up. "Do you believe, sir, that your campaign will reduce the brutality of these people in their attempts to obtain the narcotic in the future?"

  "I am hoping so. Yes."

  Oliver Gibson felt that the time had come when he could clarify his
own situation. He asked to be recognized by lifting his hand. Rhodan nodded to him, inviting him to speak.

  "Most of you know me," he said. "All the same I'd like to repeat who I am and where I come from. I'm the Commissioner for the Kapra System where six of the Earth's colonial planets are under development. The situation there can't be compared to that of the Earth's population. Those colonists lead a hard life. They're always happy to find some kind of relaxation and diversion, so its understandable that the liqueur is sold in greater quantities on the Kapra worlds than it is on Earth. This is more or less true of most colonies of that kind." He smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen-you see, I am also a user."

  The persons present were accustomed to surprises. There wasn't a muscle twitch among them when they heard Gibson's confession. Some of them watched him a bit more gravely and others turned to look at him for the first time but nobody tried to interrupt him.

  Gibson looked over at Perry Rhodan. He had reported his miserable situation in fullest confidence. Rhodan was not the type to condemn a man immediately and unconditionally. Gibson saw no reproach in the grey eyes of the Administrator-only a silent urging to continue.

  So Gibson made his next confession. "I've been three days without Liquitiv." Unconsciously his gaze had turned to Pucky. The mouse-beaver had closed his eyes. Nevertheless he sensed there a warm current of relationship and knew he was among friends. He straightened his shoulders. "I am here to speak for six colonial planets. I'd like to condense my contribution to this meeting into a single sentence: it is urgently necessary to find a solution which will be equally fair to the addicted people and the rest of humanity."

  He nodded and sat down. There was no one in the room who was inclined to be scornful or derisive. All seemed to have a desire to help him.

  When Rhodan turned toward the two men in white smocks, one of them got up to speak. He was visibly very nervous. One hand was hidden in the pocket of his smock. "My colleague, Dr. Topezzi, and I have had the task of coordinating all inputs from the research teams who were making a crash effort to trace down the dangerous characteristics of the narcotic in question." He cleared his throat tensely and cast an imploring look at Dr. Topezzi, who was obviously thankful that he was not himself in the speaker's shoes.

  The doctor continued. "So far it hasn't been possible to determine how the Antis produce the Liquitiv. There's no question, however, that it has a rejuvenating effect. It's interesting to note that the symptoms of addiction only appear after the fourth or fifth dosage. Certain influences may be drawn from that but of course they are purely theoretical and not important to us at the moment. One thing is certain, however: exterior to the human body this liqueur is not a nerve poison. Its final composition appears to be completed after some catalytic action has taken place within the stomach, having to do with human metabolic processes. Inside the digestive system some kind of enzyme combines with the liqueur, and enzymes of course are well-known catalysts. So before being imbibed, the liqueur is not poisonous. It only becomes so when it encounters the unknown enzyme. I need not stress the fact that Liquitiv has a hormone basis to it-otherwise the actual rejuvenation characteristics would not be explainable..."

  "Alright Doc!" said Reginald Bell. He was not the only man who had become impatient.

  "Now give us your report on the research for a countering agent," ordered Rhodan, "and give us the status of it."

  "To put it briefly," the doctor admitted, "the status is negative. The top specialists in the field of drug addiction and control have not come up with anything. We all know that users of opiates, barbiturates and other types of habit-forming drugs can be cured and even their post-withdrawal distress can be relieved in the process-which is true of alcoholics as well. But with Liquitiv this isn't the case. Within four weeks at the latest after a person has stopped using it, the abstinence syndrome state degenerates into complete mental derangement." He lowered his eyes and added his conclusion in a low voice. "At present our only recommendation is that the restriction on the importation and sale of Liquitiv be lifted again, if you don't want to face the risk of having millions of people go insane."

  With this bombshell the doctor accomplished what Gibson had not been able to do with his own confession. His listeners were obviously disturbed. Jefe Claudrin straightened up rigidly on his double chair and it seemed that his massive Epsalian frame was going to burst the seams of his uniform. John Marshall quickly exchanged glances with another member of his corps, a small Japanese mutant who had the trace of a smile on his face.

  But Rhodan wasn't smiling. "Do you mean you want the blockade lifted, Dr. Whitman? Do you know what that means? The Galactic Traders-in particular our old friends the Springers-would be able to penetrate the Solar System again without hindrance."

  "That is correct, sir," said Dr. Whitman.

  Deringhouse was a cool thinker. He was nevertheless a soldier above all and his logical thought processes operated on military levels. As a general he considered it his responsibility to use the Solar Fleet as a means of shielding Terra from all incursions of disaster. He had little patience for nefarious chess moves, political intrigues or tricky diversionary measures. "That's no different than a straight capitulation," he growled bitterly.

  Pucky blinked his eyes, considering the proposition with new interest. Capitulation. It was a term that even this fun-loving former inhabitant of Vagabond did not take lightly.

  Rhodan was the only one who seemed to maintain his calm.

  Dr. Topezzi finally spoke up. "Capitulation seems a bit rough, sir," he said. "A better term would be compromise."

  "This isn't a word game, Doctor," retorted Deringhouse, who was clearly irritated. "Defeat is defeat, no matter what labels you try to hide it with. I am against lifting the blockade."

  Jefe Claudrin grunted heavily, which everyone present knew was a sign of agreement. As commander of the first Terran linear-drive spaceship, his opinion carried a certain amount of weight. Rhodan realized that if he didn't step into the argument the men would start to split up into several camps. He was well aware of his responsibility at the moment. Whatever decision was made here would apparently affect the whole existence of humanity, whether on Terra itself or on the colonial worlds. It was as though the baleful eye of destiny were on this man whose name had become inseparably bound to the development of the human race-this man who had even won a certain measure of respect from Auris of Las-Toor, the female representative of the Ruling Council of Akon.

  It was a historic crossroad but he hardly hesitated to formulate his decision: "The blockade will be lifted. Effective immediately the sale of Liquitiv will be permitted on Earth and in all of its extraterrestrial colonies. We shall make a similar recommendation to Gonozal VIII, better known to us as Atlan, so that hopefully he may coordinate his policies with ours."

  Perry Rhodan's grey eyes searched every face in the room, probing each man for his reaction. He saw the sudden pallor in Deringhouse's features and noted Claudrin's dark frown as well. Some of the men swallowed visibly and their faces hardened. But trust and confidence in their First Administrator was stronger than their personal feelings.

  Rhodan's voice finally penetrated the deathly stillness. "First of all, we thus avoid having millions of people degenerate into madness. Our educational campaign will be strengthened so that those not yet addicted will not be victimized. Everywhere in the Imperium it must become axiomatic that using Liquitiv is equivalent to a death sentence." He laughed but it was without a trace of humor. "Naturally this does not mean that we are defeated. We are going to launch a research program such as this world has never seen. We are going to mobilize the best scientists from every planet; we are going to provide them with every possible facility; and they are going to try to find a cure."

  His eyes narrowed. "They shall find a cure-just as I will find Thomas Cardif."

  Pucky's eyes widened in startled surprise but he said nothing. He knew that silence was the better part of valor when his Chief was in this
kind of mood. Every man present could sense Rhodan's grim determination. His personal energy and positive attitude generated a spirit of optimism but in relation to later events it was not to be justified. Once one has slipped and fallen back against an offensive onslaught, recovery is never immediate. Not even when one apparently remains inactive in order not to provoke the attacker.

  Two days after the conference, Liquitiv was again available everywhere on Earth. For a few hundred unfortunates, this action had come too late. In Gettysburg a man was committed to a psychiatric institute, completely out of his mind. His name was Henry Mulvaney.

  The dragon seeds sown by the Antis were bearing evil fruit. In the laboratories of Earth and on the Arkon worlds, the desperate search for an antidote was underway. Rhodan refused to spare himself. He monitored every result and Ending personally.

  Then something happened which precipitated a new turn of events.

  5/ LAST CLUE

  From a purely aesthetic point of view the city was just a cluster of grey buildings with narrow streets, deserted intersections and untidy-looking establishments which had been abandoned. Nowadays the town was of no importance and its ugliness was all the more apparent. Not long ago when Lepso had still functioned as a sort of intercosmic Tower of Babel, this city like many another on the planet had witnessed the nefarious traffic of countless interstellar races.

  After the troops of the Solar Imperium had occupied Lepso, this town and all others like it had simply died. No longer could the furtive figures of smugglers be seen in the doors and archways during the night. The familiar flash of rayguns here and there between 'businessmen' was a thing of the past. Gone were the endless haggling over prices of their tainted merchandise.

  The town was dead because Lepso was dead. The corruption in the government was also a thing of the past because it had been backed by the Antis and now the so-called god priests were no longer present on the planet Rhodan had launched an attack on the Baalol temple itself. At the last moment, some of the Antis and Thomas Cardif had been able to escape.