Fortress Atlantis Page 3

  "A reason not to let me fly to Arkon?" I interjected with a touch of irony.

  "Correct," he admitted frankly. "We're bound to be discovered sometime. At present we're concerned about the planets of the star Mirsal. When we arrived there we found planet #3 depopulated. All inorganic objects were untouched, only the, intelligent humanoids and all animals had disappeared. We became embroiled in a tough fight with unknown spaceships. We still don't know what we were fighting and we don't have any explanation why the terrible salvos the Drusus fired went without any effect whatsoever through the invisible alien spaceships which we pinpointed with our rangefinders. Mirsal planet #2 was also inhabited and we arrived just in time to witness how its intelligent beings vanished before our eyes and dissolved into nothing. The Robot Regent was so alarmed by these baffling events that it assigned the command of its new super-battleship Arc-Koor to me. However we were completely helpless. Not even my mutants were able to get to the bottom of it. All I could do was take as many Mirsalese as possible aboard to evacuate the planet. I transferred the refugees to Arkon but I was pursued by the ghost ships and was saved only by a quick transition. This is the situation we're in and it still baffles us. I intend to... What's the matter with you, Atlan, hey?"

  Rhodan jumped up and shook my shoulders. I could feel only his hard grip. The clarity of my vision had become clouded by a sudden surge of vivid memories. I saw Rhodan only as a shadowy shape and his shouts sounded like thunderclaps in my ears. My photographic memory had reacted against my conscious will as he recounted the events. I was thrown into a state of panic and it was a few moments before I was able to see clearly again.

  Rhodan stood near me. His lips formed a thin line. I could feel my hands tremble. Somebody was calling for a doctor.

  "Do you know these strangers?" Rhodan asked excitedly. "Please tell us, Atlan, if you can explain what happened."

  "My friend," I stammered, "the story goes back 10,000 Terrestrial years."

  "We're anxious to hear it," Lt. Stern urged.

  I slowly nodded my head. My lucid memory threatened to overwhelm me. Rhodan seemed to realize how much I was disturbed by reviving the impressions of my past and he wasted no time. He led me to the antigravitor and we went to the large mess hall of the Drusus.

  While I tried to suppress my inner turmoil and to regain my composure, the crew filled up the hall and I saw many members who had not yet been introduced to me.

  Rhodan sat next to me. "Okay, we're ready," he announced. "If your report is truly significant it is better if the whole crew can listen to you. We hope we can clarify the mysteries with your help. How do you feel? You look miserable!"

  I tried to smile although my head ached. "It'll be difficult," I began. "There are many concepts of the Arkonide vocabulary involved in my tale of the past. I'll convert all distances and time to Terrestrial values and express many other things, such as machines, weapons and ranks in your terms. Even though it won't be easy."

  I looked around. The big mess hall was jammed with listeners. Where did they all come from? I felt like my brain was wrapped in cotton and I was barely able to visualize the present. My eidetic memory-stirred by Rhodan's account-had taken possession of me.

  Somebody handed me a cup. "Drink it!" the man said. "It'll calm you down. What did you do to him?"

  The question was addressed to Rhodan by the medical officer who had been called in.

  The words seemed to pour out of my mouth by themselves. For the first time in years I began to speak about my life but I had never dreamed I would do it aboard a Terranian super-battleship of all places.

  I ranged far out with my narration. I had to do this in order to explain how it had all come about. I used only contemporary expressions to make myself understood. It would have been quite senseless to use the Arkonide designation 'Tsohlt-Taark' for the Terrestrial term 'impulse drive' or to call the Commander of a cruiser 'Vere'athor'.

  I forgot that I was in the mess hall of the Drusus. Time had turned back in my mind and I was again aboard the imperial battleship Tosoma with orders from the Great Council of Arkon in my pocket.

  My vision became hazy and I surrendered to the insistent demands of my memory. I began my story.

  4/ THE PROBLEM OF THE ZAKREBIANS

  "...May I be permitted to advise Your Highness not to treat the ever-rebellious colonists from the lower classes of these people too gently. My measures were aimed at presenting the Imperator a new world with faithful and willing settlers. I hope that my efforts have set a standard for you, august Crystal Prince..."

  "Thank you!" I interrupted the officer reading the message. "That's enough. Amonar's advice can only have the result of increasing the riots further. Are there any other matters?"

  My friend and counselor Capt. Tarth, Commander of my fleet's flagship Tosoma, rolled up the document and tossed it on the magnificent desk.

  I had arrived four days before on the second planet of the little yellow sun which had been discovered by an exploration cruiser under the command of Larsaf.

  We had called this world Larsa after him. It was a very young planet with steaming swamps and forests and vast muddy oceans. Its humid warm climate seemed to have agreed with our settlers. But the rule of the Administrator Amonar had been less healthy for the colonists.

  The Great Council of Arkon called me back by hyperradio three weeks ago from my theater of operations with instructions to proceed with my expeditionary squadron to Larsa's sun and to investigate the second planet of this isolated stellar system from where they had received a desperate radio call from a colonist by the name of Tonth. The message complained of unfettered encroachments and draconian measures of the Administrator Amonar of the insignificant family Cicol.

  I had covered the distance of 34000 light-years in four transitions and landed a little later with the Tosoma and the two battlecruisers Askohr and Paito on the main spaceport of Larsa.

  A cursory inspection had already revealed that Amonar had abused his authority. I learned to know him as a hard and unjust man who was driven by a burning ambition to gain recognition and honor for himself and his family at any cost.

  He had transformed a wild uninhabited world into an exemplary colony with cities and spaceports and had undertaken the construction of a robot brain on such a large scale that I was deeply surprised.

  Amonar had bought his fame with the blood of our colonists. The most capable scientists and technicians among the settlers were used exclusively for the perfection of the automaton and I had gained the impression that Amonar endeavored to build a state for himself in this little out-of-the-way solar system.

  I had struck hard and mercilessly with my troops when Amonar's loyal soldiers tried to defend their master. In this clash they had deployed weapons which the Administrator had already bought from the Galactic Traders without the knowledge of the Great Council and installed in the fortified ring around the unfinished robot brain.

  Yesterday I had arrested him and sent him back under guard to Arkon. His last attempt to change my mind was no different from the written statement Capt. Tarth had read to me. They were the usual hair-splitting phrases of a subordinate who knew very well that I was a member of the ruling dynasty. My family, the Gonozals, had given birth to the Imperators of Arkon in whose hands the fate of the Great Empire had been entrusted during the last three epochs.

  I slowly rose from the luxurious contour chair. The opulent furniture and decor of the room were clear proof that the arrested official was more concerned about his own comfort than the welfare of the colonists.

  Since I had been appointed as an Arkonide Admiral and Chief of a Task Force Squadron by a decree of the Great Council, I had encountered such infringements only once. A man of my people had tried to establish his own Imperium with the help of an alien reptilian race. It had been my first mission.

  Not much blood had been shed in the case of Amonar. A report to the Great Council and my venerable uncle Imperator Gonozal 7 had been dispatched by
a messenger ship. I expected an early reassignment since it was not my job to build colonies. It was only my duty to intervene in cases of unrest.

  The administration palace erected by Amonar was the most splendrous edifice in the planetary capital. The prisoner had called it Amonaris after himself. Since he had achieved great results despite the injustice he perpetrated, I was unwilling to change the name of the city. Later few would remember to whom it referred.

  Tarth, an old and experienced battleship commander, stood silently at the magnificent operation table which was equipped with communication circuits by which the most important command stations and defense positions could be manually controlled. Amonar had made the most careful provisions but we got here too fast and his subversive plans were frustrated. I was convinced that the dismissed colonizer would be punished on Arkon by destroying the will power core of his brain.

  I removed the wide mantle with the regalia of the ruling dynasty from my shoulders and put it over the high backrest of the chair. I felt more comfortable in the plain uniform of the Arkonide Fleet. Then I slowly walked to the transparent energy-wall which Amonar had installed in place of the usual armorplast windows. I stopped before the transparent wall, touched it with my finger and waited till the highly responsive climate control reacted to the warmth of my hand by drawing cool air from concealed vents.

  "A little too sumptuous for the office of a minor official," Capt. Tarth commented. "There's a delegation of settlers waiting outside. A certain Tonth requests an audience."

  "That's the man who sent the radio plea to the Great Council," I explained. "A very courageous fellow. Where does he come from?"

  Tarth checked his list, "From Visal 4, Your Highness."

  "For you I'll always be Atlan, teacher," I smiled. "Visal 4, hm? An old colony which now is overpopulated too. I've been told that 500 million citizens had to emigrate."

  "The Colonial Office has transported two million of them to this planet in its ships and another 20,000 scientists and technicians of all branches. The guard troops are from Arkon. This planet is extremely well equipped."

  I went back to the desk and sat down behind it. "Let the people come in. I hope their wishes can be fulfilled."

  Tarth's deep red eyes seemed to twinkle. Slowly he went to the door. His steps were growing a little awkward due to his advanced age. I pushed the remote control button to open the doors. Amonar had safeguarded himself against surprises.

  The two steel panels slid back into the walls. Outside one of the notorious Larsa-storms was brewing. It broke out fast and it became so dark that we needed light. At the first flash of lightning the energy-wall darkened itself.

  My thoughts turned to the crews of the heavy and light cruisers which were stationed in wide orbits around the planet. They were probably unable to see the surface of this cloud-covered world. There were only three of the heavier units of my little fleet on the spaceport. It had been enough to create the desired impression.

  Five colonists entered the room. They were dressed in plain, sturdy clothes as I had seen many times before. Their figures were tall and good-looking.

  "Pure Arkonides," signaled my extra-brain, which had been activated with the consent of the Medical Board after my appointment as admiral.

  The five men kneeled down and covered their faces with their hands. It was a gesture of humble submission which was no longer practiced on Arkon.

  "Stand up!" I commanded, acutely discomfited. "Did Amonar compel you to act in this humiliating manner?"

  "Indeed, Your Highness," confirmed an elderly man with short snow-white hair.

  My hair was long and carefully groomed. Such care would have involved a great inconvenience for these hardworking men. They didn't understand much about grand policy in galactic space. All they were interested in was to obtain dependable agricultural robot machinery to help them with their work.

  "Are you the colonist Tonth?" I inquired. The old man nodded his head. "I am, Your Highness. We came to give you our thanks for your swift help. I risked my life when I secretly sneaked into the radio station and transmitted my call. Afterwards I fled into the forest because the automatic warning devices had registered the frequency of my body. A technician warned me about it and I sought refuge in the wilderness but now everything is alright again."

  I talked over an hour with the seasoned colonists and became convinced that the future of the second world around the little sun Larsak looked bright. The immigrants who had come from a hot and humid planet had found a very suitable climate here. The virgin soil was fertile and supplied rich yields and there were also mineral treasures in abundance.

  I considered the idea of turning Larsa 2 into a trading base but the fact that the armed might of the Empire didn't reach into this far corner of the known Galaxy spoke against it. Therefore I refrained from making such a proposal to these men. It probably was a little too early for such an enterprise anyway.

  They thanked me exuberantly and then came the question which I had already expected. It was a well-established custom that audiences with these simple people ended in a petition. Capt. Tarth chuckled. He seemed to know already what it concerned. They probably had approached him earlier to act as a mouthpiece.

  "Your Highness, we've among us 50,000 emigrants from Zakreb five who have been brought here against their will as a result of some negligence. They wish to be transferred to another planet because they can't stand the local climate for an extended duration. They've suffered numerous deaths. The Zakrebians must have cooler and drier air, Your Highness. Not only are the temperatures much too high for them here but they also miss the sunshine."

  I glanced at Tarth, whose nod was barely discernible as he confirmed their facts. "I regret very much, Tonth, but it's impossible for me to transport these people in my warships and I don't have any passenger ships, available."

  "But it's only a short distance in the same solar system to the third planet, which has all the conditions they need. It'd be a simple matter for you to take them over there, Your Highness. Or would you allow them to keep wasting away here?"

  Of course I had no wish to let this go on. Moreover it was my duty to assist settlers in distress. It was what I was here for.

  Tarth mentioned one consideration. "The third world of this sun has already developed a life of its own. Although the inhabitants of that planet are at a very low stage of intelligence, they are similar to Arkonide stock. The law prohibits the encroachment on oxygen-breathing intelligent beings."

  "Yes, but only above intelligence stage C," another colonist quickly interjected.

  "And what stage have they reached?" I inquired.

  "At best A-3, Your Highness. I was there once. They are wild primitives with tools made of stone.

  They've not yet learned to make holes' in their crude stone axes. The handles are still tied on."

  His description sufficed. The law did not forbid taking over planets at this phase because experience had shown that such underdeveloped creatures could only benefit from a well-planned civilization.

  I rose and thereby ended the audience. "I'm going to investigate planet 3," I promised. "In any case I'll see to it that the 50,000 Zakrebians will get a better place to live. You may leave now."

  They left the room, walking backwards. Tarth stopped the sound recorder with a sigh and took out the spool to put it in the archives. "More trouble," he grumbled. "What fool advised me to join the Spacefleet?"

  The guard before the official residence changed and I could distinctly hear the officer give his brisk commands. My formation was an elite unit of the Imperial Fleet. When we appeared on the scene, all revolts collapsed.

  "We'll take a look at Larsa 3 tomorrow," I said. "What else is on the agenda today?"

  "A reception at the house of Trento. That ought to be fun. Trento is the chief mathematician at the local research center. He's reputed to be one of the best brains of the Empire and he's supposed to have been a member of the Great Council."

&nbs
p; "This is too much," I grumbled. "I can hardly wait to get our new assignment. This world is a little too hot and damp for me although it seems to be fine for the people from Visal 4."

  "But not for the 50,000 pure Arkonides from Zakreb," the old commander reminded me. "You'll have to make a decision before the new administrator comes."

  I put my mantle over my arm and switched off the elaborate controls on the desk. This case was already finished for me. I had lost my interest in Larsa.

  5/ BIRTH OF ATLANTIS

  Although we already possessed a cartographic record of Larsa 3 we mapped it again before our landing. It was a beautiful planet resembling Arkon with wide oceans, blue skies and vast continents with green forests.

  We liked the equatorial zone best of all. The temperatures that prevailed there were best suited for our needs, especially at the higher altitudes in the mountains where the heat was pleasant and the air good and dry.

  We were less enchanted with the jungles spreading across the two continents at the equator. Also the north of one of these continents was covered by a large desert of sand and stone which we found rather unattractive. Farther to the north it was too cold for us. There was an expanse of forests which were outside the tropical zone.

  We had already, from outer space, observed a rich animal life. This world could produce real intelligent beings in about 20,000 years. Therefore we had sufficient time to find a suitable location.

  After an analysis of air samples I gave instructions to descend lower. I was, obligated by law to ascertain personally the mental and physical development stage of the natives before I granted permission by the authority invested in me to release the planet for an Arkonide settlement.

  The Tosoma, a battleship of the Imperium class, entered the dense atmosphere at high speed. A white-hot mass of highly compressed air formed in front of our impact shield, a sight which was bound to scatter the natives in wild flight.