The Galactic Riddle Read online

  The subterranean hall with its rough-hewn stone walls was apparently empty. Nothing obstructed their view of the opposite side. However Rhodan knew that this was nothing but an optical illusion: light rays were skilfully deflected and bent to create the impression of an empty space, while in reality energy beams had formed a crypt, invisible to the viewer, an impenetrable barrier to solid matter, light rays and all other kinds of waves.

  Rhodan's thoughts were preoccupied with these technical details when his eyes suddenly perceived the first change. The air in the middle of the room seemed to glimmer. The objects behind, the opposite wall, became hazy. The stones appeared to move and change their form. All of a sudden they totally disappeared. The deflection of the light rays had been canceled.

  But there were even more astonishing things happening.

  Bell remained motionless as suddenly mysterious objects materialized out of the void, at first in indistinct outlines that soon took on more definite shape. The clearer and more tangible they became, the weaker grew the glimmering of the air. The barrier formed by the cosmic rays gradually dissolved. Finally it vanished entirely.

  And simultaneously all the objects the energy vault was supposed to protect from the outside world, returned to the present time. They materialized from the past and from the future, lost all properties of the fourth and the fifth-dimension normal time and timeshift, and thus became not only visible but also tangible and palpable. They adjusted to the current time stream, which rendered them concrete and gave them substance. They became reality.

  "That is fantastic! exclaimed Bell, "Absolutely fantastic!"

  "But it is real at the same time," Rhodan replied in a whisper. "The best method to make something safe and unassailable is when you send it into the farthest future. There it will wait until we have caught up with it in time. In the past, however..."

  "...it would be lost forever," remarked Khrest, unless you can retrieve it from there, best by returning into the past era in person."

  "You mean to say that time travel is not mere theory, no crazy notion?" Rhodan inquired.

  "Time travel is the basis of the fifth dimension, the same as space is that of the third dimension. But listen, Perry, don't press me on that point. Just let things develop at their own speed; whenever you encounter such a situation, beware of underestimating it. If time travel were so simple, the Arkonides would have long since undertaken the necessary steps to prevent the events that led to the decay of our star empire."

  That sounded logical enough and Perry no longer insisted on more details. Next to him, Bell was stifling a groan Anne Sloane and John Marshall remained silent and unmoving.

  The middle of the big hall was now taken up by a self-contained section. It was easy to imagine how the strangers had brought here, all these treasures, many thousands of years ago, to send them into another time era. But were these really treasures?

  At first sight the place resembled a storehouse. Boxes and chests stood in neat rows, stacked on top of each other; they formed a border around some object in their center. This object looked quite familiar: it was a matter transmitter!

  It must be a medium-sized type; it could accommodate more than one person inside. Its height once again indicated that the unknown race must have been as tall as human beings. The controls of this matter transmitter were similar to those already seen in earlier specimens.

  A matter-transmitter-here?

  The same question flashed through their minds: where was the anti-transmitter located, the counterpart of this transmitter? What would happen if they entered this transmitter, activated it? Where would they emerge?

  Or rather-when would they rematerialize?

  The inner moon of the 12th planet received sufficient heat from Vega to prevent it from being a totally sterile world. Its own gravitational pull was strong enough to hold a considerable amount of atmosphere trapped above the surface of the moon. It might be conceivable to classify this 12A, as Lossosher called the satellite, capable of sustaining life.

  Sgt. Groll shook his head when the Ferronian scientist asked him to circle slowly around the moon at a low altitude.

  "Do you really believe that immortal race would pick such an inhospitable place to spend the everlasting rest of their lives?"

  Lossosher was crouching in his narrow seat and kept staring out of the view hatch, down on this sparsely lit world. To their left they could see the oversized sphere of the 12th planet. It dominated the scene entirely.

  "It does not matter too much what I believe, Sergeant. But we must not overlook anything. We must remember that. This strange race probably regards life differently than we do. Just consider that they seemingly have no other purpose in life than posing riddles for other people. Perhaps they even withdrew into the interior of their own world. If so, you must admit it would not matter at all where this world would be located. It might wander all alone throughout the universe without a sun, without moons, without light, without heat. Why, then, couldn't it be right here?"

  Groll did not reply. He was at a loss what to say.

  Seen from above, the 12A was a dead world. The stony desert showed a few rare plant specimens-the only sign of organic life. Here and there, a miserable rivulet squeezed its way through the rocks, soon to ooze away in the dry soil. There were no seas, no oceans. The moon consisted of one uninterrupted land mass. This did not exclude, however, that water might gather deep below the surface, forming underground water reservoirs. Still, this had no influence on the climate of the desolate world above ground.

  After they had circled twice around the moon, Lossosher said: "Let's land here!"

  Sgt Groll cursed under his breath but he remembered the orders Maj. Deringhouse had given him: all wishes of the Ferronian scientist were to be carried out unconditionally. And he Sgt. Groll, of all people had to be entrusted with such a task! The machine descended steadily, flying above the dead landscape at a height of less than a thousand feet.

  "Where?"

  "Let's wait a little longer," Lossosher said. His face reflected his intense emotions. It was as if he were searching for something. "Just keep on flying at this altitude. Slow down, please, if you possibly can."

  Groll let the fighter plane glide slowly above the rocks. This was the most desolate sight the pilot had ever seen in all his life. Lossosher, on the other hand, did not share Groll's distaste for the view. He kept staring intently through the oval window. Nothing seemed to escape his searching eyes.

  Two hours later the scientist finally leaned back in his seat.

  "I think we can dispense with a landing. I don't believe we will find anything here. Set course on 12B. Maybe we will be luckier there."

  Groll breathed a sigh of relief. He threw a glance at the map and seconds later took off into space. The moon sank away below them.

  "I think it's alright now for us to enter the crypt, Khrest," said Rhodan. "The generator has removed the barrier. Nothing can happen to us as long as the energy is flowing. And according to your information this should continue for the next few thousand years. That should give us plenty of time. Let's go, then!"

  Rhodan walked ahead. Khrest followed after some initial hesitation. Bell waited for a while before he joined them, together with the two mutants. The rest of the members of the mutant corps remained in the background. They did not budge from the spot.

  Rhodan reached the place where previously the invisible wall had obstructed his path. Now the obstacle had vanished. There was a heavy trunk in his way. He had to make a slight detour around it. Then he entered the vault.

  He stopped in front of the transmitter, the largest object inside the crypt and located right in the center. Rhodan put his hand in his pocket and touched the piece that he kept hidden there. On it was written a mystifying sentence translated by the positronic brain, which had informed him in addition that the same sentence was supposed its to make appearance inside the crypt. It was the beginning of the new trail. Khrest was standing beside Rhodan. His r
eddish eyes were filled with uncertainty. His delicate hands were trembling.

  "Perry, you aren't going to..."

  Rhodan just stared at the Arkonide scientist. There was something very compelling in his gaze. "You wouldn't stop now, would you, Khrest? After having come this close to our goal? I simply can't believe that! The human race behaves quite different; at least, we don't give in so easily, provided it's for a cause that justifies our efforts. The stakes are high enough here. Just think-eternal life!"

  "What good would it do you if you should die trying to reach your goal, Perry?"

  "That would hardly have been what the unknowns intended for us, Khrest. They left this trace which inevitably must lead to them. And these unknown people did not even risk anything while putting us onto their scent for it will be found and traced only by those who vibrate on the same wavelength. You can count on it that the planet of eternal life will never be found by uncivilized barbarians. Rest assured, Khrest, the unknowns would never lure us into a trap which might prove fatal to us. We will encounter many obstacles, of course, but death is not one of them."

  Bell had been unusually silent. Now he spoke. "Who can tell when these mysterious beings set up this transmitter here in this spot. You said it must have been 10,000 years ago when they left this system. Who knows what all might have happened in the meantime that they had not reckoned with? We might even land right in the middle of the Vega sun."

  Rhodan shook his head. "That's out of the question. You underestimate the intelligence of these beings. They must definitely have been aware of the possibility that it might take centuries or millennia until someone would find the beginning of their trail. They must have considered all potential astronomical changes in their calculations. I am certain they would not make unnecessary risks."

  Rhodan stepped closer to the matter transmitter. He opened the wire gate. The controls, some levers and switches, were exactly like those Rhodan knew form those on Ferrol. Nothing different except for one thing: this transmitter had remained until now in a different time era, either in the past or in the future.

  "You will all stay here," Rhodan said with a strained voice. "I am going ahead by myself. If this transmitter functions properly and I land in some safe place, I'll return at once and pick you up to come with me."

  "And what will happen if you don't...?" Bell sounded worried.

  Rhodan shrugged his shoulders; simply threw a swift glance in Khrest's direction and then stepped inside the cabin, which could easily accommodate five to six persons.

  "Once I have disappeared, you will have to wait here," Rhodan said. "Don't do anything that might endanger my return."

  Khrest did not seem too pleased with Rhodan's orders. "Wouldn't it make more sense if somebody else...?"

  "No, Khrest! I am absolutely convinced of the good intentions of these unknown creatures. They want their riddle to be solved some day. Shall I disappoint them?"

  Khrest was silent.

  Rhodan smiled at Khrest and Bell, waved reassuringly at Anne and John-then depressed the lever. The result was most puzzling: Rhodan neither vanished nor became invisible. He just stood in the wire cage, as if nothing had happened. The transmitter was not in working order.

  The second moon of the 12th planet could have been a twin of the first satellite. They were both exactly alike. A passable atmosphere, very little water, sparse vegetation, rocky ground and bare mountains.

  Lossosher insisted they should land and Sgt. Groll complied with his wishes rather ungraciously. The machine touched ground on a stony plateau. The automatic control instruments indicated that the atmosphere was rather thin. It did not seem advisable to leave the pressurized cabin without a spacesuit. Cursing under his breath, the Ferronian scientist slipped into a gossamer-like coverall and donned a plastic space helmet.

  "Wait here for me," requested Lossosher, and disappeared in the bottom hatch. It had been fixed up as a provisional airlock. Groll locked the hatch hermetically tight and started the exit procedures. The air was sucked off, a vacuum was created. Then the outside hatch opened and the Ferron was tipped out like a parcel onto the ground. He rolled down on the stony surface of the moon 12B. This rough treatment, however, did not dampen his spirits. The gravitation on this moon was considerably less than that of his home planet Ferrol. Nimbly he leapt to his feet and bounded off, quickly getting away from the fighter plane without so much as even looking back once at Groll, who was watching him from behind the plane's window.

  "What an unpleasant character!" grumbled the pilot.

  The scientist disappeared behind some rocks. He proceeded without a definite plan, relying on what chance would bring. Common sense told him that his chances here were nil to find any hints as to the whereabouts of the missing planet.

  Groll was bored, sitting and waiting inside the narrow cabin. He too, could have gone outside, but he could not see that it would serve any purpose. Thus he just sat and waited.

  Two hours later Lossosher returned. He did not show any signs of disappointment. Slowly he climbed through the airlock into the interior of the plane, took off his space helmet and snorted: "Nothing! This is definitely not the lost planet we are looking for. Let's try the next one."

  Groll sighed. "It won't be any different there. How many moons are there around the 13th planet?"

  "Only two," replied Lossosher. There were two deep creases in his high bulging forehead. He gave the impression of concentrating on something important. "And one of the two is rather interesting from an astronomical point of view."

  Groll made no comment. He started the engine. Not until 12B was receding rapidly below them did he finally remark: "What's so special about it?"

  "This moon is so far away from its planet that it takes half a year for one revolution around it. This makes moon 13B more or less a planet rather than a moon. It's just that it circles around another planet and together with that around the sun. Why shouldn't it be the 43rd planet we are looking for?"

  "Why shouldn't it? You have a point there." Groll thought a moment and then added with a grin: "But-on the other hand, why should it be the 43rd planet?"

  Perry Rhodan tried once more but it was again in vain. Nothing changed. The transmitter seemed dead.

  Rhodan stepped out of the wire cage, his disappointment clearly showing on his face. "I can't under stand what's wrong there," he admitted to Khrest. "We succeeded in overcoming quite a few obstacles, certainly not just to come to a standstill in front of a defective matter transmitter. What does it mean, I wonder?"

  "There must be some meaning to it!" Khrest sounded convinced. "Think of all the other transmitters. None ever suffered any damage throughout the thousands of years. They kept on working in perfect order all the time. The source of their energy supply is inexhaustible. The generators are built-in, as we have learned. Therefore, we must conclude that there must be some reason this transmitter here is not functioning. It must be on purpose. What do you think, Bell?"

  Bell did not really have any particular opinion on the subject but he wanted to save face. "I agree with you Khrest," he began slowly. to gain time. "These beings from the past certainly did not lack imagination. Now, to top it all off, they even want us to repair a matter transmitter to prove our ability to think in five-dimensional terms."

  Bell had suggested this more or less because he wanted to say something when he had been challenged by Khrest. But Rhodan seemed to take his words seriously. Rhodan glanced briefly at his friends, then turned his attention to the transmitter again. He opened the door to the wire cage and stepped inside. Khrest waited, as well as Anne Sloane and John Marshall. Bell, however, who had not failed to notice the unexpected effect of his suggestion, felt encouraged for further explorations.

  Rhodan was searching. He was looking for something definite-the hint that would bring them nearer to the solution of this mystery. The unknown race possessed an invaluable secret: immortality. They were to share this knowledge with a race that would be on a par with th
em. But how could they make sure who was worthy indeed to learn their secret? The answer was simple: they had to pass a number of tests! Therefore they left behind them a cleverly devised trail when they disappeared. If anyone succeeded in following this trail and interpreting correctly the many hidden hints, then some day the two would have to meet-those who set the task and those who solved it. Those who devised the mystery and those who unraveled it.

  A genuine cosmic mystery hunt!

  A galactic riddle!

  The Galactic Riddle!

  Rhodan realized that the transmitter presented two problems at the same time. First, the machine had to be put back into working order and, next, it would transport them to some unknown place, where, however...

  He did not dare reflect further. Whatever problem would confront them there would be another task to solve. Suddenly Reginald Bell cried out in surprise. Khrest hurried over to him, joined by the two mutants. It took several seconds before Rhodan could walk over to the group that had gathered around Bell. Rhodan still had his hand in his pocket, grasping the strip of paper which seemed to burn like fire inside his palm.

  "What happened? Did you find anything?"

  "An inscription!" Bell exclaimed loudly. "I have discovered an inscription. At the back of the transmitter. It was quite simple!"

  Rhodan pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket. He looked at it, then compared the text with the two lines inscribed on the otherwise smooth back wall of the transmitter. Then he returned the paper to his pocket.

  Bell watched this maneuver, the disappointment clearly showing on his face. "Was that a dictionary you consulted just now?" he inquired sarcastically.