The Micro-Techs Read online

  Rhodan waited a few more seconds but the tiny loudspeaker remained silent. He switched it off with a sigh. "Nobody can get used to taking orders without asking questions," he stated philosophically. "I can hardly blame Talamon, though. But the Brain of Arkon will soon join the quiz and then it'll get critical."

  "You can always let me talk to that metal monster," Pucky proposed in a cantankerous mood.

  Rhodan gazed thoughtfully at Talamon's ship without responding to Pucky's offer. He began to wonder why the Regent—the greatest positronic brain of the Galaxy—had dispatched the requested battleship. Was he faithful to their agreement? Rhodan remained skeptical.

  "Let's go back," he finally said. "We've got a job to do. And as far as you're concerned, you'll soon have an opportunity to work off your surplus energy. You, Kulman and Sengu will take on the task of hunting down the plant where the compensator-detector will be manufactured—and find it."

  "Glad to," Pucky said as eagerly as if he had been told to get a carload of carrots at a hydroponics store.

  2/ CRIMINAL AT LARGE

  Swatran was situated almost exactly on the equator. Since the length of a day on Swoofon corresponded to 18 hours on Terra, the sun shone here for nine hours before it was night for another nine hours.

  Now it was midnight and pitch-dark. Pucky, Wuriu Sengu and Jost Kulman stood in the main plaza of the capital. They moved carefully to avoid stepping on the vehicles of the Swoons parked in the street. Although the cucumber men had street mobiles up to one meter long, they were not easy to see because they had no lights in the square where Pucky and the two men wanted to start their search.

  "It's dead around here," the Japanese murmured nervously. "Don't the Swoons have a nightlife?"

  "No," Kulman muttered. "They like their sleep."

  "The subterranean Swoons too?" Pucky inquired.

  "Yes, they too," the agent Kulman confirmed. He had lived long enough on Swoofon by orders of the Solar Imperium to know their customs. "They prefer to live quietly and modestly."

  "They're absolutely right," Pucky pronounced with admiration. "They're satisfied with what they have accomplished and feel happy. They've every reason to be proud and they have ambition without overdoing it. One can almost be envious of them."

  "Yes, in some respects," Kulman agreed, trying to look around. His eyes were unable to penetrate the darkness. "Can you see anything?"

  Wuriu Sengu shrugged his shoulders. "I can see through the molecular structure of matter with my eyes but when it comes to ordinary darkness, I'm lost. Sure I can see the Swoons lying in their beds but not very clearly. Anyway, this won't do us much good."

  Pucky took the two men by the arms. "What do you have me for, friends? Let's investigate the dayside first. I'll take you two pint-sized boys with me."

  The 'pint-sized boys' were grown men, more than twice as heavy as the mouse-beaver. But he could have carried more than 10 times his own weight on a teleporting jump if necessary.

  The air flickered and the main plaza was empty again except for the parked vehicles. There was nobody to watch their disappearing act.

  They materialized again several thousand kilometers away, a little north of the equator. Kulman had told them that the other zones were too cool and that life was mostly concentrated in the region north and south of the equator.

  They stood in the middle of a vast plain which was rimmed by mountains in the north and an ocean in the south. Rolling hills stretched endlessly toward east and west. There was no sign of a town or settlement anywhere in sight.

  "Lonely country," Pucky pouted, looking up to the dark-blue sky whose color ranged into violet. They noticed the effect of the thin atmosphere. "What are we looking for around here?"

  "It isn't quite as lonely here as you might think," Kulman replied, pointing to the rocky ground. "The Swoons live here under the surface. I don't know how far down their cities are located but we can find out where they are. Since all their big factories are placed underground the detector will also be built somewhere down below."

  Now that Wuriu Sengu had been made aware of the subterranean installations, he applied his special talent. His eyes had a fixed stare as he focused below the ground and soon an expression of amazement crossed his face. He began to talk slowly while Kulman and Pucky listened breathlessly. "There's a city directly underneath us. It's about 50 meters deep and stretches on one level. But there's a second level 20 meters farther down in the rock. No, the lower level is not a city, it's a huge factory with long machinery halls and workbenches. They're jammed with thousands of Swoons. Heavens, how tiny!"

  "The Swoons?" Pucky asked.

  "No, the stuff they're building; it can hardly be seen with the naked eye."

  "They make transmitters no bigger than the tip of a little pin," Kulman added. "It's miraculous what they can do. I've seen incredible miniature work... "

  "Wait a minute," Sengu interrupted him to get back to his observations. "The facilities down there are tremendous. I can't see all of it. If we follow this method we can keep looking for months before we get results. We don't have that much time."

  "Of course not," Pucky growled, staring jealously at the stones which was all he and Kulman could see. Everything that was hidden underneath remained invisible except to the seer Wuriu Sengu. "They've got trains connecting their installations and transporting goods. Where do they take them, Kulman?"

  "To the cities on the surface," Kulman informed him. "And to the spaceports where they're exchanged for food. They grow virtually nothing on Swoofon. It's a puzzle to me how the Swoons lived before they were discovered by the Springers. I've never been able to find that out."

  "I believe the streets are wide enough for us," the Japanese pointed out, "and the houses look high enough to let us move around without too much trouble. We ought to pay a visit to the city."

  "But the entrances to the subterranean cities are too small," Kulman explained. "I've already tried it."

  "We'll teleport ourselves," Pucky decided, showing great interest. "That's the best way to get in, of course. But I'll have to estimate the distance precisely so we won't materialize inside the rock."

  They muted their voices as the mouse-beaver telepathically perceived the thought impulses of the Swoons far below them and oriented himself in the area. Sengu tried to pick a place where they could emerge. The best he was able to find was a public square which unfortunately had a lot of traffic. Since the vehicles were driven electrically, the air was unpolluted.

  "By the way, they already heard the news about the arrival of our spaceships," Pucky finally said. "They've got excellent communication media. However it has not disturbed their life. They act as if nothing had happened."

  "Will they get a surprise!" Sengu predicted, taking the paw of the mouse-beaver. "What are you waiting for, Jost? Pucky is ready to jump."

  And so Pucky took the leap.

  • • •

  Drog, a husky Springer, wended his way through the two meter high tunnel connecting the two laboratories, stepping on the slender rails of the railway system and causing the repair crews of the Swoons plenty of work.

  The tunnel was brightly illuminated and the air-conditioning functioned excellently. A draft of fresh air prevented the feeling of suffocating in the depth of the planet.

  Drog kept swearing in a low voice as he cautiously walked through the tunnel. He had to be careful because the slight gravity could 'lift him out of his boots'. A little too much push from his legs and he would knock his head against the stone ceiling. This had happened to him once before and since that time he was extra careful.

  He had been given a task and was obligated to finish it. He sought comfort in the thought that he wouldn't have to stay much longer on this weird planet which was inhabited by strange creatures who were called Swoons and were famous as the best microtechnicians of the cosmos.

  The passage took another turn and then rose gradually. He was getting closer to the construction offices where he
was to meet Markas. Today they had to arrive at a decision as to a date when the project would get rolling.

  Blast it! Here he had to walk all the way because the trains were too small and fragile to carry him. It wasn't so bad on the surface where the slighter gravity made it easier for him to move around. But down here?

  Drog cursed again. His well-groomed beard was a characteristic of the Springers. He was dressed like a man with a profession: a physician or a scientist. Since only the Aras were physicians, Drog had the appearance of a technical expert. His bearing didn't reflect the usual swashbuckling of the Galactic traders and he seemed to lack the sly, speculating instincts of his people. A little of the future glimmered in Drog's eyes, as Bell would have put it.

  The rails under Drog's feet were running horizontally again and the tunnel widened. The tracks branched out into a regular railway station. The ceiling was higher and there were more lights.

  Drog was almost there. He began to relax and paused a minute to watch the loading of a freight train which stood at a dock. The locomotive was barely one meter long and 50 centimeters high. It pulled about 20 cars. In the engineer's cab he noticed two Swoons who paid no attention to him. They pulled up the train at regular intervals to bring the next freight car to the loading conveyor. Drog was unable to recognize the product they were loading into the cars. They were probably made in the nearby factory which built television sets with screens no bigger than a fingernail and cameras which were so small that they could be mounted on a ring to be worn on a finger.

  He resumed his walk and reached an open square which was bordered by flat buildings. They looked like sheds to Drog but they were enormous buildings as far as the Swoons were concerned.

  One of the houses had some walls and ceilings removed so that Drog had enough room to move without being afraid of hitting the ceiling unexpectedly with his head. He entered the room and was glad to find a stool which had once been used as a bed for a Swoon couple. The small table had been specialty made for him.

  Markas was already present. His yellow skin somehow looked paler and more unhealthy under the ground then on the surface. The little fellow crouched on the table and studied some papers which were bigger than he. Apparently there were still some problems which he was anxious to straighten out.

  Drog got up again and took a little box from a cabinet. It was one of the translators without which communication between the Springers and the Swoons could not take place.

  He put it on the table and sat down. "Well, Markas, did you examine the plans? What do you think of them, my friend?"

  "Before I form a final opinion, Springer, I have to ask one question: will the gadget be used for military purposes?"

  Drog shook his head indignantly. "But no, Markas! Never! We need it only as an aid to navigation of our merchant fleet. As I've already explained to you..."

  "You've told me that it's an improvement for space travel," the little Swoon said astutely. "Naturally I've no way of knowing whether you speak the truth or not and I must accept your assurances. However you know as well as I do that no war materiel may be produced with out the explicit permission of the Regent and I've no intention of violating this restriction."

  Drog was boiling mad but he was careful not to show it. These Swoons were always creating difficulties and wanted to be treated with kid gloves. It was necessary to flatter them in order to gain their goodwill and he was forced to play the game. "There's nobody in the universe who can build such a device except you, Markas. Some parts are so small that they have to be made under a microscope by anyone else whereas you can do it without optical aids. You're in a position to help us and we'll be glad to reward you generously."

  "That's not the point," Markas reiterated firmly and with obvious pride. "You still haven't answered my question regarding Arkon's approval."

  "The Regent has no objections to manufacturing this instrument which we want to produce in great quantities as soon as the tests are satisfactory. Why should he have anything against it?"

  "Hm," said Markas, pointing his protruding eyes at the Springer. "Then you can perhaps explain to me why the Regent has cordoned off the Swaft system from the Galaxy and taken over control of all Springer ships on Swoofon?"

  Drog's face paled and the tip of his beard quivered. "What?" he panted, "What did you say just now? Arkon has... ? No, I can't believe that!"

  "Then see for yourself," Markas suggested and jumped from the table. He slowly floated to the floor where he landed on all sixes. He tripped to the wall where a low console stood. A picture screen covered about one square-meter of the wall above the console. "We've got a direct connection to the capital, Swatran." The screen began to light up and Drog had to stoop down to watch it. "Here you can see a part of the spaceport."

  Drog saw a plastic picture on the screen. The three gigantic spheres of the Arkonides were only partially in view. Several robot fighters stood guard with drawn energy-beamers. Otherwise the landing field looked deserted.

  The cameras swung around and depicted another sector of the terrain.

  "As you can see here," Markas pointed out in the same even tone, "the heavy guns of the battleships are aimed at the ships of the Springers, preventing them from escaping to safety. Arkon has issued orders that no ship is allowed to take off. Furthermore, Inspector General Rhodan has announced... "

  "What's the name of the inspector?" Drog stammered, narrowing his eyes. "Did you say Rhodan?"

  "Yes. Do you know him?"

  "The name sounds familiar," Drog murmured, trying to place the name in his memory. "If I only could remember where I've heard it." He reflected for a few seconds and shook his head. "He had something to do with a big commotion, if I'm not mistaken but I can't recall what it was. It occurred way back. Well, it'll come back to me eventually." He looked at Markas. "Did the Arkonides state a reason for their measures?"

  The little Swoon ambled across the room and manipulated the controls of a transmitter. He performed a strange movement with his four arms which meant: why ask me? Then he alluded: "I thought that you might know something about it. Perhaps Arkon has some reservations about the contract for the detectors?"

  "Why should they? With it, Arkon's enemies... " The Springer let slip unwarily, realizing his mistake at once. "I mean... "

  "Thank you," the Swoon said with a touch of satisfaction. "You've given yourself away. I'm fully aware of your hidden contempt for my people and that you only treat us like equal beings when you need us. There are not better microtechnicians, in the world than the Swoons... "

  "And everyone knows that you're superb but nobody holds you in higher regard than we," Drog replied unctuously. "Misunderstandings will happen but good friends can always clear them up."

  "I'm about to do that," Markas hinted, rolling his eyes, which was his way of nodding the head. He turned another knob and the face of a Swoon appeared on the little screen.

  Drog listened in on the conversation with the help of the translator.

  "Did you find out something new, Habrog?"

  The Swoon on the picture screen made an affirmative motion. "Yes, Markas. Arkon is trying to apprehend a criminal and they have reason to believe he's on Swoofon. He's supposed to be a Springer."

  "I see," said Markas, looking at Drog. "And what crime did that Springer commit?"

  "'They didn't say," Habrog reported. "The Elders of Swatran talked to the Inspector General but all they could learn was that he's looking for a criminal. That's all they wanted to know. We are not involved in this matter."

  "Thank goodness!" Markas ended the conversation and switched off. He slowly turned to Drog. "It's possible that they're concerned about the detector, Springer. Until I find out for sure... "

  "We've already made a down payment, Markas," Drog said slowly and with emphasis. "You can't back out of the contract. Moreover, I can assure you that we've nothing to do with the wanted criminal."

  Markas seemed to hesitate but then he said surprisingly: "Alright, I b
elieve you. I'm going to take the necessary steps to construct the first model as quickly as it can be done. I assume that you'll put one of your spaceships at our disposal for the installation of the new detector. Then we can take it out in space and test it against another spaceship with compensator during a transition. Is this agreeable with you?"

  "Fine," Drog replied happily and got up. His back was beginning to hurt him. "Then I can go back to the surface and tell my boss that you're ready to go ahead with the project?"

  "Yes," said Markas with all the dignity he could muster. "It's alright."

  Drog turned around in the door. "Did you already decide where the detector will be assembled? Don't you think it would be best to choose a central location?"

  "That's what I have in mind, Springer."

  Drog's face lit up. "Here, I assume... "

  "No, about two hours by air father north. After studying the plans you've given me, I've decided to erect a separate complex for the fabrication where all parts can be produced. Whatever else we need can be brought in easily by a subterranean train."

  Drog was a little disappointed but he knew better than to show his dissatisfaction. "Very well. I'm going to move in there. As you know I've been appointed as project supervisor."

  "By whom, I wonder?" Markas asked, unperturbed.

  He received no answer and Drog's broad back disappeared through the door which took up two stories of the building.

  A few seconds later the alarm shrilled through his department.

  3/ HE WOULD BE LORD OF THE GALAXY!

  When they materialized they were pushed hard against the floor. It was better for Pucky. At least he was able to stand up in the low tunnel but Sengu and Kulman jackknifed and sat down in a crouching position.

  "Rotten luck," Kulman murmured, rubbing his neck. "We must have landed in one of their railway tunnels. I can feel the tracks."