Planet Topide Please Reply Page 3

  "A cosmic joke of world history, Atlan," Rhodan interrupted bitterly.

  "To borrow a phrase from Bell again," fumed the Arkonide gruffly, "how long do I have to wait for the punch line?" His yellowish gleaming eyes flashed ominously. "How does it happen that the reptile people know your position within an error of 27-light-years? Why does each of you sit here like the personification of guilt? Are you saying that actually this is not a joke and that perhaps it slipped your mind that the Topides had an approximate fix on the Earth's location?"

  "Yes," admitted Rhodan. "For more than 70 years nobody's thought of it! And now the robot Brain is setting up Topides as officers and commanders of full-fledged Arkonide battleships! All that's necessary is for my name to be mentioned—just a certain memory to be awakened—and about 3 hours later you'll see thousands of Arkon spaceships swarming out from that one tracking focal point, 27 light-years away, heading right down into our section of the Milky

  Way. It won't take them long after that to find us..."

  Perry went on to give Atlan a summarization of preceding events.

  The whole thing had started when Thora's exploration ship was forced to make a crash-landing on Earth's moon. The degenerated crew had forgotten to provide themselves with vital repair parts for the vessel. In order to advise Arkon of their situation, a hypercom message had been beamed to star cluster M-13, where at that time the robot Brain was not yet in charge. Either Arkon had ignored the distress call or due to some rare disturbance the information had not gotten through But in the Orion sector on the planet Topid, the reptilian intelligences there had traced the hypercom's point of origin—without noticing, however, that the particular tracking equipment involved was defective at the moment. An error of 27 light-years had crept into their Chi-coordinate alignment.

  Thus misguided, the Topides had searched for the crashed Arkonide cruiser in the Vega sector, where they encountered an Arkonide, humanoid race known as the Ferrous. The Ferrous were a harmless, amiable people who were unable to defend themselves against this invasion which had come upon them from a distance of some 800 light-years. So Rhodan had managed with very meager forces to strike a destructive blow at the Topides in the Vega sector. This was his first actual triumph in interstellar spheres, which appeared to open the way toward one day becoming the ruler of the universe.

  "The planet Topid is 815 light-years distant from Earth, Atlan. The lizards' Chi-coordinate tracking error was only 3.4% off. Yes, and then later we ran across the scaly-skinned devil's again in the Betelgeuse system..."

  "I know," Atlan interrupted. "That was the time that Arkon along with the Springers and the galactic Medical Masters thought they saw the Earth become an inferno of atomic destruction... but it was an Earth which your clever tactics had relocated in that area. But Perry, that second episode was all the more reason for you to remember that small margin of error the Topides had made in their original tracking attempt! I just can't understand it! How can anybody overlook something, like that!"

  "Humans are not Arkonides, Admiral," Rhodan replied calmly. Then he turned to the chief of the Mutant Corps. "John, I want you to call your people back to base."

  "What are you planning to do?" asked Atlan curiously.

  "I hope to make use of our last chance for cleansing a sin of omission from the world—that is, if we've got enough time left to do it."

  "You're going to Topid, to the reptiles?" asked Atlan in mild amazement. Once more he was nonplussed by these tough, adaptable Terranians who could often cold-bloodedly face up to problems that his Arkonide intellect simply couldn't grasp.

  "I don't want to go to the Topides, Atlan—I have to go!"

  The Arkonide thought it necessary to remind him that Topid was a part of the Greater Imperium.

  "Just as you are—right?" Rhodan's face was unmoved as he countered with the laconic question. But again he did not wait for an answer, turning instead to Allan D. Mercant. "How many agents do we have on Topid?"

  "Two, sir," replied Mercant without having to cogitate on it. "Ho Kwanto and F. C. Curtiss. The Admiral's reference to Topid being part of the Arkon Empire is of secondary importance. Those reptiles' mood is anything but cheerful, or even safe, when anybody mentions Arkon among them. They'd like to shake loose from the Greater Empire and the sooner the better..."

  "...which is of course the precise reason why they are furnishing operations officers and top command staffs for a fighter squadron, I suppose!" interjected Atlan derisively.

  "I won't dispute you," said Mercant with a slight bow to Atlan. "However, my exposition of the general situation did not contradict the fact—for you see, if the Topides had dared not to comply with the robot Regent's order to man his ships, then today the planet called Topid would no longer exist!"

  Rhodan took no part in this particular debate. "Mercant, have your men find out if there are any Arkonides on Topid as yet. I'll need that intelligence in 5 hours. Anything else to discuss, gentlemen?"

  It was a signal that closed the meeting. Perry Rhodan found himself alone with Atlan in his combination office and conference room.

  "Well," sighed Atlan, "you and I seem to have been gradually deflated. But I repeat my question once more: how could all of you have forgotten that the reptiles knew the galactic position of the Earth, except for that one small deviation of a Chi-coordinate?"

  Rhodan remained silent.

  Atlan never did receive an answer on the subject.

  What the Topides knew had simply been forgotten, that was all—but now every human being in the Solar Empire was going to have to pick up the tab for it!

  3/ PUCKY & THE "MAGIC FLUTE"

  Twenty-four hours had passed since that memorable discussion and during that time an increasing number of mutants returned to Terrania.

  John Marshall called all of his people back and as they perceived that they were not the only ones being ordered into home base they knew that somewhere a major threat must be looming.

  Bell didn't venture to mention his thumb anymore. In fact he didn't have time for such matters. He had not seen his bed during the night because he'd been busy laying out a detailed plan of action. When Atlan saw it finally, it caused him to cry out half in dismay and half in uncomprehending perplexity.

  "What—?! You're going to fly to Topid as Arkonides...?"

  "So what's so hard about sticking your nose in the air like an Arkonide and walking around like you're half asleep?" asked Bell with a malicious attempt at innocence.

  Atlan did not deign to answer him but instead immersed himself in a study of the plans.

  In the adjacent room, Rhodan and John Marshall also had their heads together. The Mutant Corps chief was able to report to the Solar Empire's Administrator that all mutants were present in Terrania, with the exception of a few who could not be spared from their strategic Posts.

  "Does that include Harno?"

  "Yes sir."

  "I haven't seen Pucky around here. Is he off the base, John?"

  "No. For the past few hours he's been wandering around on board the Kublai Khan. It seems that our mouse-beaver friend has been mentally spying on somebody again."

  "How do you figure that, Marshall?" asked Rhodan, suddenly concerned. He was a stickler for enforcing his special rule affecting the mutants. With the exception of John Marshall, no telepath was permitted to invade the thoughts of any responsible person in Terrania. And Pucky was no exception to this strict order.

  "About an hour ago I found him in the Command Central of the Kublai Khan, where he was just sitting and staring at his special boots. When he saw me he gave me some of his innocent-sounding double-talk: 'John, I wonder if I should exchange these plod-hoppers for some heated boots—or do you think that on our new assignment we'll all be having cold feet?' Of course when I heard him, sir, I knew that Pucky had come across some kind of information."

  "And it also reveals he's found out about our plans to use the Kublai Khan," said Rhodan pensively. "Marshall were you an
d Pucky alone in the Command Central, or...?"

  "Alone, sir."

  "So what did you give him as an answer, John?"

  "I was impatient with him, sir. The pessimism around here has been pretty heavy and the mouse-beaver’s wisecrack was like the straw that broke down the camel, you might say. I remember I practically growled at him, 'As far as I'm concerned you can order yourself a tailor-made straitjacket!' But that was an indirect way of admitting to him that we're planning some pretty rough action. Pucky's incisor tooth popped out, of course, and he grinned, 'It's a sick wind that blows no good, alright—and this one's going to be a real stink bum! When I think of Fatso's bunged-up thumb, it gives me cold feet already!' Right after that I asked Mr. Bell if he had discussed the alleged allegory of his injured thumb with Pucky. Well, I..."

  At this moment Pucky contacted them over telecom from the Kublai Khan and with his usual disarming impudence admitted having 'listened' in on their conversation.

  For the sake of security he telepathed his message into their minds: "So I found out a thing or two—is that so bad? Don't knock it, Perry... you should see the mess that's been piling up around here. If the Kublai Khan is going to be remodeled into an Arkonide super-giant, then the least you should expect is that these Nucks learn something about Arkonide spelling and put a 'TH' in On-Tharu. Naturally I had to straighten the Nuckheads out..."

  The mouse-beaver was always stealing Reginald Bell's verbal expressions, which he employed with the gleeful banditry of a magpie.

  However, when he got to the word 'knuckleheads', it appeared to be the last straw for Perry. "Lt. Puck, this is much too serious a situation—!"

  "Right you are!" Pucky interrupted him. "Whenever you pin that Second Looey handle on me I know there's trouble brewing—but I still don't think it was neighborly of Marshall to snitch on me. Can I come over to see you, Perry?"

  "At once! That's an order!"

  Rhodan and Marshall both sensed that Pucky was no longer there. Either he had shut off his thoughts or he was already teleporting himself to their location. But nothing happened. There was no shimmering in the air—no Pucky. Rhodan asked Marshall to search for him or his thought impulses but after a few minutes the chief of the Mutant Corps had to confess that he could not locate him.

  "I'm going to take that scamp Pucky to task and this time he'll get no mercy from me!" Rhodan promised. His face reflected deep annoyance over the mouse-beaver’s arbitrary and wholly unauthorized action.

  He swept a hand across his brow as though to eradicate thoughts of Pucky for the moment, then launched into a discussion of Bell's plan with Marshall. Which seemed necessary because it contained a problem with regard to the mutants.

  Marshall had grave reservations about it. "Sir, isn't this concentration of mutants in one place an extremely risky procedure? If anything happens—and we can't discount such a possibility—then you're in danger of losing the entire Corps at one blow."

  Perry Rhodan shook his head slightly. "John, you're still missing the point that our sins of omission in the past have forced this upon us. It was just 70 years ago that the reptile invasion of the Vega sector took place. Does that fact give you any idea of how dangerous it would be for either the Topides or the robot Brain to find our trail? The ruling Topide dictator at that time is probably dead now, along with his particular military junta, but there may well be several thousand of those lizard intellects who still have a vivid recollection of the events of 70 years ago... and don't forget such things as records, files and archives that can always come to light. If the recall capability of those reptiles isn't dangerous to us, then their records can still break our necks. In order to eliminate this sharpest threat to our existence we have to put all our eggs in one basket—we have to use every means at our disposal on the planet Topid and make sure that not one document or computer register will ever endanger us again."

  "I know the gamble I'm taking in this, Marshall. I also know the magnitude of the task that's being assigned to you and your mutants. But if just one man fails us, John, the Solar Empire could be lost overnight! The Arkonides would be here even faster than we've feared they would up till now."

  But John Marshall still had objections to this joint mission of his irreplaceable mutants. He stubbornly pursued the matter out of his sense of responsibility and Rhodan had to privately congratulate himself that he had this hardheaded but honestly frank John Marshall as his chief of the Mutant Corps.

  "Sir, you just explained to me that this time the entire ship's crew was being selected on the basis of physical appearance. So this limits the men you can choose if their physiology is supposed to be as close as possible to that of the Arkonides and most of my men are exceptionally small. I beg you to consider that!"

  "Well, Marshall, do you have any other plan that's easier to carry out and yet be able to support our action with a reasonable probability of success?"

  "It shouldn't be difficult to set up a secret network of hypno-transmitters on Topid and then keep the reptiles under our influence until the robot Brain ceases to be a source of danger to us."

  Rhodan was mildly startled by this. He looked at Marshall reproachfully. "Come on now, John... you know my opinion of any device capable of mass influence! I'd only sanction such a thing as a last resort and even then with the greatest reluctance. Besides, in these areas we don't have much information about the lizard men. So we don't know if weeks or months of constant hypnosis would cause them brain damage. Am I supposed to assume the burden of conscience or be responsible for driving 100,000 reptilian intelligences insane? I just don't happen to be a soulless robot brain!"

  At this moment it did not occur to Perry Rhodan that he had just passed a test which justified his claim to leadership of the Solar Empire, whereas by contrast a super-intelligent but soulless synthetic creature on Arkon 3 could never be more than a short-lived passing phenomenon.

  Before Marshall could make a reply to this, the door opened and the mouse-beaver stepped in, accompanied by Allan D. Mercant.

  Although Pucky knew that by rights he could expect a sharp scolding, he managed a friendly grin with his incisor. With his small feet encased in the special boots and slightly supported by his wide tail, he pattered across the room and sat down in a chair in a quite grandiose manner.

  Rhodan attempted to probe the mouse-beaver’s thoughts by means of his almost negligible telepathy but he came up against a powerful mental screen. Pucky permitted no eavesdroppers to steal up on his thoughts.

  "I have to disturb you, sir..." This was Mercant's opening statement as he came in the door.

  Regardless of pressures, it was Rhodan's habit to have everyone comfortably seated before discussing anything with them. He maintained that few crises justified omitting such a small amenity. So Mercant seated himself before he began.

  "Sir, after Pucky alerted Security he contacted me. The action I then initiated is still in process but in a short time I expect the matter to be taken care of.

  "Pucky apprehended two people in an act of treason. Telecom specialist Ulbers and propulsion engineer Huang-Lu were about to give a prearranged signal to a clique of workers on the Moon, which would have resulted in the launch of a space probe. My Security people have already confiscated this missile. It contained a hypercom transmitter which was programmed to begin operating five minutes after takeoff—and it would have broadcast a repeated sequence of information containing the galactic position of the Earth!"

  Although normally the personification of self-control, Allan Mercant had delivered this announcement with a trembling voice. For a second or two, Perry Rhodan's face tamed pale and John Marshall's start of dismay did not go unnoticed.

  The mouse-beaver continued to lounge in his chair, slightly rolling his intelligent eyes about the room while his bright incisor produced an even friendlier grin. Supporting his mouse head in his left paw with an elbow on the armrest, his roving gaze always returned to Rhodan.

  But the Administrator ignore
d him. Very quickly he recovered from the shocking news. "Mercant, why do you presume that this matter will be taken care of shortly?" he asked without preamble.

  "Pucky has given Solar Intelligence the names of all persons who were connected with this incredible conspiracy. Ulbers and Huang-Lu had already been detailed to the Kublai Khan and were on board in the Com Central when Pucky suddenly accosted them and held them in the grip of his telekinesis. He then alerted Security and made sure that the crewmen had Ulbers and Huang-Lu under arrest. After that he teleported to me."

  "When the report came in from the Moon that the space probe had been confiscated and I..."

  The intercom sounded. The screen brightened and a man wearing the insignia of Solar Intelligence announced in clipped military tones: "Sir, Operation Magic Flute is completed. All 18 conspirators have been apprehended. That is all. Any questions, sir?"

  Since the chief of Solar Intelligence had no further questions, Rhodan inquired in some puzzlement: "What's this Magic Flute business, Allan?"

  Then the mouse-beaver squeaked from his chair: "What's wrong with Magic Flute? Don't those super snoopers look Eke flutes? Naturally you have to use your imagination a little but weren't those nuck-heads going to use the probe to lure the Arkonides with their little song? That's how I got such a rise out of your trench-coat laddies, Allan. I simply yelled into the intercom mike: 'Start Operation Magic Flute!' well, the poor guys jumped in the air like they'd forgotten to turn off the stove or something! Nobody asked me a thing. Like a bunch of octopuses they grabbed every detail and siphoned up the names and billet numbers as though their lives depended on it. And then everything hit the van. So that's why there was nothing so special about it. But John, when you snitched on me to Perry I got mad at you. Sure, I broke the rules and opened up with my telepathy, which led me to the Com Room where I caught Ulbers and Huang-Lu at their mischief.

  "That about winds it up, I'd say, except when the crew from the Kublai Khan got hold of those two yeckheads..."

  "Pucky!" interjected Rhodan reprovingly. He was about to say more but the mouse-beaver hurried to correct himself.