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  2/ TROJAN HORSE ASTRAY

  The new day dawned in the East. The morning sun raised its great red disc above the horizon and began its long climb into the cloudless sky. The fire in the cave had long since died down and had to be fanned into life again by the guard. Soon after that, water was boiling in the pot and the stimulating aroma of 'kagarak' rose up toward the rocky ceiling.

  Rhog awoke as someone gave him a nudge.

  "Time to get up, my friend," said the bearded one as he pointed to the fire. "Breakfast!"

  Rhog sensed relief. He knew that he was safe and that he would make it all right to Tagnor. The only thing was, they must give him back his needle beamer. Without a weapon he didn't know how he might carry out his intention.

  Even at breakfast Rhog saw no signs of the imminent departure. Where were the wares and merchandise to be loaded up? Did everybody have so much time on their hands that they could dawdle away at breakfast as long as they pleased? And he remembered the three men who were supposed to come here. Where would they come from and why—here in the middle of the desert between the two cities?

  They shared their breakfast with him so that he might stretch out his own meager provisions. In general they were all very friendly with him. Even later when they had all eaten and the bearded man invited him to take a walk with him, there was no change in the new relationship. The other men remained behind in the cave.

  They went out to the waiting vehicles of the caravan, which were covered over with tarpaulins. From the tracks in the sand Rhog could see that the machines could not have been here longer than yesterday, which tied in so far with the bearded man's story. The only thing that bothered Rhog now was the three men who were supposed to come here.

  "When are those three men you were talking about going to get here?" he asked. "Maybe they're coming in by means of a glider?"

  The bearded one looked at his watch. "I don't blame you for being curious about that but I'm not going to be able to tell you anything. To be frank, I don't know much more than you do. I was simply told to wait here at this cave for the three men. You must have noticed the strange machine in the cave by now. Do you know what it is?"

  "No," Rhog answered, hoping that at last he would learn something. But he was disappointed. "I don't know either, Rhog I was merely informed it would be here in the cave when I got here. And that's where the three men are coming from, plus all the materials that are going to have to be taken to Tagnor."

  "From the machine?" Rhog was incredulous. "How can anything travel in a machine that is firmly anchored to the ground?"

  The other man smiled. "I'm getting good pay for the transportation, and besides I've received some very vital identification papers—so that's why I'm not asking as many questions as you are. After I get back to Larg I'll be able to relax and just wait for the Arkonides to pull out of here. So what does that machine in there matter to me?"

  Rhog now realized that a bigger organization must be operating here than he had previously imagined. He knew he was lucky to have run across it—but he decided that he would tell no one about his own plans.

  "What about my pistol?" he inquired. "Will I get it back when we get to Tagnor?"

  The bearded man looked at him askance. "What do you need it for?"

  "My own security is all. My papers aren't as good as yours, you know. If the Arkonides grab me I prefer to go down fighting rather than stand there and be shot as a helpless prisoner. Can you understand that?"

  "Yes, I understand," said the bearded one, reaching into his pocket. When his hand emerged it held the small needlebeamer. He handed it to Rhog. "Here you are—but just don't get any dumb ideas. You can see I'm trusting you."

  "Aren't we all Zalites?" replied Rhog. "That automatically puts us in one camp, doesn't it?"

  The other man nodded slowly. They had come almost 200 meters from the cave entrance by now and were quite close to the narrow passage that led out into the desert. Rhog could imagine that the tractor equipment must have had a hard time forcing its way through here.

  A long drawn-out cry echoed from the cliff walls. The bearded man came to an abrupt halt. He looked back A man stood in front of the cave and beckoned to him. There was no mistaking his arm signals.

  "Let's go, Rhog. I think our friends may have arrived."

  Rhog followed him in silence. How could the three men have arrived in this box canyon without having passed them on the way in? Had they actually travelled here with a machine that stood motionlessly in the cave?

  Three Zalite strangers were already waiting for the caravan leader. At least they looked like Zalites but in reality they were from the Earth and belonged to Rhodan's special commando task force. Pucky had teleported them here one at a time. To the amazement of the men in the cave, they had suddenly appeared in their midst out of nowhere. Pucky himself had not been observed because each time he had jumped back at once to Tagnor.

  The bearded one reached his hand out to then "Hhogka has sent me to bring you into Tagnor." This was the password. "Where is the equipment that we're supposed to load onto the transports?"

  Sgt. Miller responded by shaking hands with him. "I am Thar, my friend. These are my two companions, Regul and Prezl." He pointed to cadets Rudolf and Kranolte. "In about a half hour—I hope—we'll be able to start with the loading operation." As the bearded one only stared at him incredulously, Miller nodded in confirmation. "That's right, you heard me—but it seems you are not familiar with matter transmitters. They're well-known on many worlds. Here in the cave we have such a transmitter. It has been set for receiving and in a few more minutes you'll see some action..."

  On Zalit there were no matter transmitters although something was known of their existence. The bearded one began to suspect that very powerful people must be behind the Hhogka operation. Matter transmitters!

  Somebody came out of the cave, yelling at the top of his voice. "Witchcraft! The friends of darkness are loose. I There in the cave, that machine...!"

  Sgt. Miller shrugged and checked his watch. "Pretty darn punctual, I'd say. Right on the dot." He walked past the bearded one into the cave, followed by his companions.

  Rhog felt the hard metal of his weapon in his pocket. Matter transmitter or not, he knew what he had to do. In about three days he should be ready to act.

  • • •

  Gen. Deringhouse made certain that all was in readiness.

  Timing and transition coordinates, velocity—everything checked out according to the computer readings. There was just one more switch, which would commit the whole action. And this was in his hand.

  The California had picked up the hypercom message from Zalit. The supplies and equipment requested were already in the transfer fields of the five transmitters down in the cargo hold. There also, only one button would have to be activated, as soon as they materialized over Zalit.

  When Deringhouse threw the switch for program commit, the light cruiser converted itself into a pulse of extra-dimensional energy and vanished from the normal universe, yet the entire process of its transition through hyperspace lasted but the fraction of a second. When Deringhouse again observed the immensity of the void around him, many lightyears of distance lay between him and the point where he had been only microseconds before.

  The Arkonide blockade fleet was not asleep but neither were they fast enough to keep Deringhouse from fulfilling his mission. Even as the spherical spaceship ripped through the upper strata of Zalit's atmosphere, the five transmitters were already functioning. The stacked up materials and equipment in the transfer fields vanished in a matter of seconds. Simultaneously the California hurtled out into space again and raced for the transition position that the computer had calculated.

  By the time the pursuing robot ships of the Arkonide fleet managed to open fire, their searing energy beams sliced through nothing but empty space. Under the anti-tracking protection of its residual energy dampers, the California dematerialized. Since it left no trace, its course and position n
ow were beyond detection.

  The only report the Regent of Arkon received was a terse dispatch informing the Robot Brain that an unidentified ship had been spotted and that it was being pursued.

  • • •

  In the secret cave on Zalit, all the provisions and equipment that had been transmitted arrived unharmed inside the receiver cage. The whole swift process was especially frightening to the one particular Zalite who seemed to believe in fiends and sorcery.

  Rhog merely stood in the cave entrance and witnessed the incredible. Out of the open door of the grid cage spilled crates and packages as though invisible hands were unloading them. The three strangers stood nearby and did nothing. One of them grinned broadly. The bearded man had opened his mouth but said nothing.

  Finally the man who had spoken before turned to the latter. "You can start loading now. You are to be back here in one week or else send us another team. A second caravan will be needed."

  The bearded one signaled to his men and they fell to work. "In one week?"

  Miller nodded. "For another transport load, my friend. You will be paid well for your trouble."

  While the bearded man attended to the loading operation and Rhog assisted his men, the three Terranians withdrew into one comer of the cave.

  "All this isn't going to do it," said Miller to his two Subordinates. "This caravan can't take it all. We have to still stay here and stand guard but that's a lot better than going along with "Rhodan to Arkon."

  "I'd rather ship out," grumbled Cadet Kranolte. "You know—get into the action." With a little moan of disappointment he sat down on a rock that had already served the others as a bench. "We're sitting around here like helpless puppies!"

  "But every dog has his day," grinned Cadet Rudolf, ribbing him. "Maybe yours is coming up."

  "What are you talking about?" asked Kranolte suspiciously. He was not up on his proverbs, apparently. "What day is that?"

  Sgt. Miller knew that one of those endless debates had begun which was typical of life in the barracks—the kind where there is much talk without really saying anything. Before he could interrupt, Kranolte spoke again. "Besides, who's a dogs!?"

  "Come on, Kranolte, that's just a way of—!"

  "And please use my coverup name—remember? They call me Prezl beret"

  "That's no improvement," remarked Rudolf maliciously.

  "Alright, knock it off I" exclaimed Miller finally. "Were going to have a whole week for sprekking (21st Cent. slang for "yakking"; English corruption of German "sprechen", "to speak"). At least wait till these Zalite boys have gotten their caravan rolling."

  Rudolf suddenly noticed something. "By the way, have you guys noticed that there are eleven Zalites and not just 10 of them as Toffner reported to us? Who's the 11th one?"

  Miller nodded in acknowledgment. "At least you can count, Rudolf. So? 10 or 11, what's the difference? Maybe they've picked up somebody who's asking for a ride to Tagnor. Hhogka will have made sure that no unkosh characters get into this outfit. I don't think it's any concern of ours."

  Basically he had a point but if Sgt. Miller had known the misfortune he might have prevented he might not have spoken so glibly.

  Within three hours the caravan got under way, leaving the three Terranians behind in the cave, where a goodly amount of freight still waited to be transported.

  And Rhog continued with the caravan—toward Tagnor...

  • • •

  Two days later when the caravan was still in the middle of the desert, a fleet of freighter transports landed at the Tagnor spaceport. Its commander had been commissioned to bring all remaining 'volunteers' on Zalit to Arkon.

  For Rhodan the hour of decision had arrived.

  More or less at the last moment, he and his men had managed to obtain strategic positions of rank and responsibility among the troops. In this secret action the mutants had played a major role. Most of the Arkonide officers had received a hypno-block and thus were no longer a source of danger. Moreover, it had been so arranged that these hypnotic states would fade away of their own accord, once they had landed on any planet in the Arkon System.

  Of course it had not been possible to foresee that the new officers coming in with the transport fleet would be carrying new orders. There was no time now to also bring these officers under hypnotic influence. They came in the name of the Regent and they brought his instructions with them. There was no way of going against these instructions without causing suspicion. Even Admiral Calus was powerless in this case. So at the moment it was of no help to Rhodan whatsoever that this particular Calus happened to be one Sgt. Osega.

  It was evident from the immediate bustle of preparations that the evacuation of the Zalite troops was to begin this very day. The newly arrived officers were all unusually alert and active Arkonides. They started in immediately with the task of troop dispositions and assignments and they soon let it be known that their decisions were final. Nevertheless, through a process of adroit manoeuvring, Rhodan succeeded in providing that his 150-man team was all assigned to one spherical freight ship so that they would not be separated. Of course he could not help the fact that they would be travelling together with another 3000 or so genuine Zalite conscriptees. So the danger of discovery was held off again for the time being.

  The time for embarkation was only a few hours away. They had been issued their full equipment and were now waiting in their billet for the order to go on board the freighter transport.

  The atmosphere was not exactly cheerful. Before them the dark mists of uncertainty. No one could guess whether or not the robot brain had already seen through their "scenario" and was letting them fall into a trap from which there would be no escape. Assuredly their disguise was flawless. The biochemical techs had changed Rhodan and his men into completely genuine Zalites, their papers were in order and their accent was perfect. But one circumstance or another might have betrayed them without their knowing it.

  Rhodan turned to Capt. Hubert Gorlat. "Captain, you take over the C.O. spot for me here. I'm going with Ras to pay a last visit to Rosberg and his boys. Marshall, you keep in telepathicontact with me. If anything happens here, let me know and I'll get back at once."

  The African teleporter took Rhodan's hand in order to establish the bodily contact that was necessary for this mode of transportation. John Marshall merely nodded his head in confirmation of the order but Gorlat looked worried. It was true that there was little danger of an Arkonide stepping into their quarters just now, yet it was not beyond the realm of possibility. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ras Tschubai and Rhodan disappeared.

  In the catacombs hideout under the arena everyone was pleased by Rhodan's visit, even though it signified his final departure. Once more and in vain, Pucky strove to change his friend's mind so that he could be taken along. But Rhodan remained adamant.

  "Out of the question, Pucky! Even disguised as a pet it wouldn't work. Although the Zalite troops are allowed to take a few personal items with them, in your case you know you are not without a certain fame among the Arkonides. In the past if you had refrained from always being out there in front with your tricks your discovery would be less likely. But anyway... you are needed more urgently in the present position. After all, what would Maj. Rosberg be without you?"

  "We can't do without a teleporter!" said the Major, gravely following Rhodan's cue. "How would we have been able to get Sgt. Miller and his two cadets into that cave if we didn't have Pucky with us?"

  "There, you see?" said Rhodan, smiling down at the mouse-beaver. But then he changed the subject. "Our contact with each other is going to be interrupted now. The Arkonides haven't put a ban on carrying our watches, however, and I'll have the micro-transmitter in my wrist band, so in case of the most extreme emergency we'll still be able to communicate. We have to avoid it as much as possible because of the danger of a signal trace but I know it's reassuring to both of our teams not to be out of touch entirely. The usual frequency, of course. Well, that's about it.
How's it going with the California ?"

  "She was able to get through clay before yesterday and skrag out again after transmitting the stuff we ordered into the cave. Toffner organized the caravan and that's due in here tomorrow. Were sending one of our 'conditioned' Arkonide officers to meet it so that it'll be able to get through the checkpoints without further inspection. So you can relax on that score, sir."

  "I'd certainly like to do that," replied Rhodan with a fleeting smile. "I believe that we'll be taking off today for Arkon. Good luck to you, Maj. Rosberg—I'm depending on you!"

  "Luck to you, sir! Here's hoping you all come back safe and sound!"

  "Don't forget to give the robot Brain my personal greetings," said Pucky, not without a note of malice. "Tell him he can be glad I couldn't make the trip!" The mouse-beaver seemed to be holding the Regent personally responsible for the fact that he had to remain on Zalit. "Anyway, I'll gradually get used to serving at a line base rather than at the front."

  "Who knows what can still happen here?" Rhodan answered him with a seeming casualness but even he did not suspect how prophetic his question was. "Ras, let's jump. The others are waiting for us." He made one more gesture of farewell to those remaining behind and then grasped the teleporter's hand and signaled him to go.

  After the two men had dematerialized, Pucky stared for some time at the empty spot where they had been. Then he turned and waddled back to his section of the room. For him the Arkon phase of Operation Troy appeared to be a closed book.

  • • •

  But the 'Trojan Horse' was on its way!

  The conscripted Zalite troops were herded on board the transport ships by Arkonide officers and robots which had not yet been secretly conditioned and reprogrammed by Rhodan's specialists. The members of the combat commando team were not completely at ease in their Zalite 'skins', even though for the moment there was no fear of being detected.