The Shadows Attack Page 3

  Pucky shrank back again. If it hadn't been for the bulkhead he would have tumbled to the deck. "Females!" he chirped impatiently. "They're all the same everywhere and in every race or species! But I'm going to tell you this, girl: this is no summer resort—you're on board a warship! Here there is discipline—you'll find that out. I am not your grandpa—I'm your superior officer! You are to do exactly what I order you to do. Is that clear, once and for all?"

  "And what do you order me to do now?" she half-whispered anxiously.

  Pucky threw his small arms into the air and whistled in sheer desperation. "I order you to disappear into your cabin at once and to leave me in peace! I want to go to sleep! I'm tired! I've had enough of this children's prattle!"

  Instead of pouting, Iltu smiled in submission. "Yes, grandpa," she chirped teasingly. After that she seemed to go into a brief trance while she stared at the cabin wall—and she was gone. She had teleported. Only a momentary shimmering of the air marked the place where she had been.

  Pucky sighed and simply fell back on the bed where he stretched himself out and pounded the covers with his fists. "What a little monster!" he muttered angrily. "A sassy little beast, she is!"

  But then he suddenly became quite motionless and listened inwardly. He was receiving Iltu's thoughts. She must also be lying on her bed and reflecting on their meeting.

  She was thinking of him, Pucky.

  He closed his eyes and began to smile. What Iltu was thinking about him must have been something very delightful.

  2/ INVISIBLE INVADERS

  For two full days Pucky put Iltu through her training exercises. He would lead her to a specific location where she was instructed to firmly memorize her surroundings. Then he would take her back and order her to teleport to the target area. At first it didn't always work out. Although she could dematerialize properly she would often land in an entirely different place. Then Pucky would have to make a long search until he found her. Even telepathy didn't help much because Iltu couldn't say where she had landed.

  These drills were surprising as well as distressing to the crew of the Caesar. Sometimes it was even a shock to the men because it was not an everyday occurrence to suddenly be confronted with a figure that popped right out of the air. And Iltu materialized in machine rooms, gun turrets, cabins and even rest rooms.

  However, at the end of the second day Pucky had to admit that she was making progress. "That's pretty good now, little one. If you keep on like that you'll be a usable teleporter. There's no doubt that you have the ability."

  It was a gross understatement, to which Iltu objected.

  Pucky, you're mean! In the last two hours I didn't make one false jump. I can teleport!

  "Passable," he minimized. "But now you still have to learn how to get to a place you're not familiar with beforehand. You have to do it by using telepathy. As an example: search out the thoughts of the commander, trace his location and jump. materialize directly in front of him."

  "I don't want to do that," protested Iltu. "The Colonel is very severe. I'm afraid of him."

  "Hm-m. Then let's take somebody else: Lt. Germa." Pucky looked directly at Iltu. "Where is Germa now?"

  Iltu understood what she was supposed to do. She concentrated and attempted to sort out the thought patterns pressing in upon her. It required almost 10 minutes before her eyes suddenly brightened. "I've got him! He's off duty and in his cabin."

  "Excellent!" said Pucky with a grudging note of praise in his voice. "Then follow me now!"

  He jumped almost before completing his sentence. Staring at the spot where he had been, Iltu forgot Pucky and concentrated entirely on Germa's incoming stream of thoughts. Then she jumped.

  Germa was sitting in a chair, reading. Thus he had been putting out a clear and constant stream of thoughts which could easily be intercepted by a telepath. He was abruptly interrupted as Pucky materialized near him and let out a shrill whistle to make him aware of his presence.

  Germa half rose out of his seat but then sank back again. He had learned not to be startled so much by Pucky anymore. But then he turned pale a second later when Iltu landed right on his stomach and her weight pushed him into the upholstery.

  Is that any way to do? he protested indignantly. "I was just sitting here reading!"

  "And we're training," replied Pucky. "Well done, Iltu! That was good measuring. You came right in on target. Of course it wasn't exact precision or you would have landed on top of his head. I'm presuming that's where he keeps his brain."

  Germa straightened up after Iltu slipped out of the chair. "That's just about enough, Pucky! At least you could leave me in peace during the little free time I have off. You know we're getting close to the operation zone and after that we'll hardly have a chance to sleep. We're already on alert here and apparently you have nothing better to do than to spook innocent people —and even bug them. Shame on you, Iltu! I wouldn't have expected this of you."

  The girl mouse-beaver shyly lowered her eyes and pattered timidly closer to him. She chirped plaintively: "I didn't mean to do it that way, Germa. But we have to practice or otherwise I may fail when things are serious. I'm sorry, too, about landing on your tummy. I meant to just appear in your room. So please don't be angry... "

  Germa's indignation melted away like butter in the sun. He reached out his hand and drew Iltu toward him. "That's alright, little one. You're not to blame." He looked disapprovingly at Pucky. "But he is big enough and apparently old enough, as well, to cut out this kind of tomfoolery."

  Pucky had straightened up stiffly. "I am nor that old!" he retorted heatedly. He then dematerialized as if he'd been insulted.

  Germa stared at the empty spot. "What's the matter with him, anyway?" he said.

  Iltu revealed that she was not one to use the opportunity for slandering her fellow creature or making him look ridiculous. "I don't know," she answered, taking her paw from the young officer's hands. "Excuse me—I'll go look after him. Until later... "

  Then Germa was alone again.

  He picked up his book but suddenly he had no more interest in reading.

  • • •

  The rest period was over on board the ship when the alarms sounded.

  In the Control Central, Capt. Henderson sat before the navigation screens while he analyzed the data that was coming in from the tracking center. The forward screen's angle of vision narrowed as the view was magnified. Eleven faintly gleaming blips of light became visible.

  Col. Sukril had given the alarm as a matter of precaution because he couldn't be sure if these were the sought-after robotships or fighting units of the Springers or some other race. Formations of 10 or more robotships were not unusual. They could have been in a flight group together when the robot Regent ceased functioning—in which case they would now be drifting onward without pilots or propulsion until eternity itself put an end to their course. Or perhaps the search commandos.

  "Course and velocity unchanged," said Capt. Henderson after 2 minutes of calculation. "All signs indicate that we're dealing with the ships of Arkon. Your orders, sir?"

  Col. Sukril did not take his eyes from the screen. He thought of Col. Kermak's bitter experience. This wasn't going to happen to him. If any Springers appeared he was going to attack them immediately but in no case was he going to destroy the robotships. But aside from the robot units nothing could be detected by the trackers in a surrounding area of 800 light-years. The nearest sun was 800 light-years sternward from the Caesar. It seemed that sector BM-53-XB was about the loneliest region a man could imagine.

  "Decrease velocity, Captain. Hold our present course. All gun crews on standby. Lt. Germa, report to Control Central!"

  Germa was only one among a number of team officers so it was merely by chance that he chose him. He might just as easily have picked out Capt. Delmarin Maj. Borovski or Lt. Steinwald but he selected Lt. Germa. It was one of those instinctive decisions that often change the course of events. Perhaps also Col.

  Sukril's knowledge of the good rapport between Germa and the 2 mouse-beavers had helped to influence his choice.

  "We reach the formation in 10 minutes, sir. Their course is the same. Lt. Germa is on his way."

  Sukril only nodded. He observed the screen intently those 11 ships out there were drifting without a crew. All radio calls had remained unanswered. There was no indication that the least robot element was functioning.

  "Lt. Germa reporting, sir!"

  Col. Sukril seemed to awaken as if from a dream. He swiveled around slowly. "Take a look at those ships, 'Lieutenant. What can you tell me about them?"

  Germa moved closer until he was standing next to the commander. With alert eyes he studied the 11 ships. He followed their steady course and took note of their configurations. Without exception they were spherical vessels, from the smallest 60-meter type to the Imperium-class flagship which was the same size as the Caesar. Their relative velocity now was almost zero but actually they were still moving along at a rate of many thousands of km per second. The void beyond them was black. Only a few blurred nebulous specks bore witness to the fact that other galaxies existed across the tremendous abyss. According to present knowledge, nothing lay between but an awesome emptiness; no suns, no planets—and probably also no ships.

  "No question about it, sir, they're robotships, no longer in operation."

  Col. Sukril nodded. "That's also my analysis, Lieutenant. I think we can take them over. Do you have any reservations?"

  "No. sir. After all, it's my job for me and my men to take over one of the ships and bring it back to Earth. Just give the order, sir, and we'll go into action."

  Sukril gave him a fleeting smile. "Don't be over-confident, Lieutenant. It's true that there's no trace of enemy units in the immediate area but that can change. The Springers only have to make one long transition to make a sudden appearance." He sighed. "Take a long-range scoutship and five men, Lieutenant. You're the advanced guard. You can head for the flagship. The main lock can be opened manually from the outside when the electronic security system is out of operation—and that's the situation now. You will penetrate into the Control Central and from there I will expect to hear your radio report. Is everything clear? Can you get out there and overtake that formation?"

  Lt. Germa sought to clear up a certain point. "Then—it's the normal boarding procedure, sir? No special precautions?"

  "Not indicated, until after your team has gone on board first."

  Germa hesitated.

  "Something else, Lieutenant?"

  "Just one question, sir. What about the teleporter, Pucky?"

  "The mouse-beaver?" Sukril wrinkled his forehead. "What do we need him for when everything is in order? We only use the mutants when something unforeseen comes up—more or less like an emergency backup."

  "I only thought, sir..."

  "Do you see any compulsory reason for using him already, Lieutenant?"

  "No, certainly not, sir."

  "Alright then! You and your men get into the hangar and take one of the Gazelles. Fly it directly into the main lock of the robotship. And now—good luck, Lieutenant."

  Germa saluted and went out. He picked out five men from his team and hurried with them to the hangar, where the flight personnel were already waiting for them. One of the Gazelles had been made ready for the mission. The disc-shaped scoutship measured 18 meters in height and was almost 30 meters in diameter. It was equipped with a hypertransition system which allowed a jump-range of up to five light-years.

  Germa was the last one into the airlock but as the hatch was about to be closed the mouse-beaver materialized directly in front of him in the hangar. Pucky beckoned to Germa and waddled up closer.

  "So it seems I'm not needed," he remarked.

  "Nonsense, Pucky! The commander only wants to use you in case of danger—more or less like an emergency brake, you might say."

  "I don't happen to be a brake—and besides, I over-heard your conversation. I'd like to know why it was decided at that supposedly important conference that mutants were to come along. What did I train Iltu for? So we can sit around now and twiddle our thumbs...?"

  Germa looked worriedly at his watch. "I don't have any more time. The takeoff order can come any second now."

  Pucky looked intently at the lieutenant. "Be careful, Germa. There's something that isn't right about those ships. I can feel it."

  Even Col. Sukril had sensed this but he refused to react to indefinite impulses. Pucky, who had watched Sukril telepathically, could not shake off his uneasy feeling so readily. It had led him to make a quick esp-scan of the robotships. The lack of results by no means reassured him. It was evident that no intelligences were on board the ships, yet something was wrong.

  "I'll call you if something happens, little buddy."

  "I'll be there," Pucky promised. He had determined to get through this mission without clashing with regulations. Otherwise he would have simply teleported on board the robotships long before this in order to check them over personally. At any rate he had decided to have a serious word with Col. Sukril since he needed a broader range of authority. "You only have to think 'Help!'—nothing more."

  The hatch closed. Seconds later the Gazelle glided into the void.

  Col. Sukril had given the order for takeoff.

  • • •

  The control room of the Gazelle was on top of the disc-shaped hull. Its "roof" was transparent. Germa could clearly observe the 11 robotships. He approached them slowly with his right hand next to the flight lever which he only needed to shove forward in order to hurtle away at tremendous speed. Actually the assumption that aliens could have boarded the ships in the meantime was purely absurd because if that had happened the aliens wouldn't be waiting around until somebody discovered them. Of course it was also possible that such strangers might not be able to operate the robot controls and this could explain why they were waiting.

  But even if that were so, the ships they had arrived in would have to be somewhere in the vicinity. In that case the tracking instruments would have detected them long before this. Pucky had warned him, however, and Germa still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The mouse-beaver would not have said anything like that without a reason.

  Germa could clearly make out the outlines of the airlocks, the great ring-bulge of the engines and the gun-turret hatches. The viewscreen revealed these details with an increasing clarity but Germa preferred to examine the approaching colossus directly. An uncanny aura of menace seemed to exclude from the robotship, which had originally been assigned to guarding the outer limits of the Arkonide Imperium.

  "Brado!" One of the five men in the control room came away from his companions and approached him. "What do you think, Sergeant? Where the devil is the main hatch to the hangar?"

  From 100 meters away one might have seen that Brado was Mexican or Spanish. His black hair appeared to be glued to his head with pomade. He was nervously turning his space helmet around in his hands. They all wore the lightweight protective suits which could enable them to work in the outer vacuum. The helmet could be put on in a matter of seconds.

  "I'm familiar with the Imperium class, sir," he said, "but they have such a big surface area that I don't know at first glance..."

  "Same with me," admitted Germa. But suddenly he saw the small control wheel next to the outlines of a hatch door that must have measured 50 meters in depth. "There it is!"

  The problem was solved more quickly than he had first expected. He carefully manoeuvred the Gazelle closer to the ship and then brought it to a relative standstill. They were now no more than 20 meters away from the towering wall of the hull, which at this proximity hardly revealed any curvature.

  Germa turned to the others. "Who's going?" he asked.

  An oppressive silence answered him. No one volunteered. It was so unheard of that Germa was speechless for several moments. He could sense the uneasiness of these men whom he knew he could ordinarily depend upon. It was an unrest that seemed to be contagious, because he felt it himself. It was as if he were no longeralone with these five men in the ship.

  "Sgt. Gork! Take Cadet Wilkovski with you and open that hatch. If necessary we'll cover you with the weapons—but get a move on!"

  The two men nodded wordlessly, donned their helmets and secured them with magnetic clamps. Then they turned on their air supply and checked out their radio systems.

  "Sgt. Gork ready."

  Germa confirmed and gave them their signal. He remained at the controls and activated the airlock mechanism. One minute later they were visible outside the ship. They shoved away from the Gazelle and landed softly a few seconds later on the hull of the super warship, which had enough mass attraction to work its effect on them.

  It was a familiar enough scene for Germa. Two ships stood next to each other, apparently motionless, separated only by a few meters. The jump from one to another was very short but the abyss beneath extended for billions of light-years. Yet a man couldn't fall into it under such circumstances. Forces of inertia and local mass attraction prevented it. From awesome distances the other island universes sent their shimmering light, beyond human reach—or so it seemed.

  Sgt. Gork found the control wheel and began to turn it.

  On a robot-operated ship a control wheel was as primitive as it was indispensable. Without a mechanical provision of this nature it would be impossible for a man to enter in case the automatic system failed. The purpose of the wheel was to open a small adjacent manlock. Once inside, an operator could start the semi-automatic machinery which was energized by a power bank.

  Over Germa's head a loudspeaker crackled and Col. Sukril's voice rang out: "How it is, Lieutenant? Everything alright?"

  "I've sent two men over to the lock, sir. As soon as they raise the hatch I'll move the Gazelle inside."

  "We have you on the screens. Report to me every two minutes."

  "Very well, sir."

  The ship-com speaker fell silent but then the spacecom came to life. It was Sgt. Gork. "The wheel's stuck, sir. It made only two turns and no more. What should I do?"