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  Before boarding, however, all I.D. documents had to be presented again for inspection. The names were compared with troop assignment lists. But this particular operation was hardly anything for Rhodan and his men to be concerned about. Their papers were Terranian works of art.

  The greater difficulty was to be able to remain together. The troop billets on shipboard contained no more than 100 men each. Rhodan was with a group of 49 of his commandos who had to share their temporary home with 50 genuine Zalites. In the coming hours it would be impossible for them to speak freely with one another. There might even be a traitor or a special agent among the Zalites who would report every suspicious-sounding word to the Arkonides in order to feather his own nest.

  On the other hand, Atlan was in a better situation since he was assigned to an adjacent billet along with the remaining 99 members of the team. At least he could converse quietly with them without fear of being overheard. Since John Marshall was also assigned to his group, the mutant would always be aware of what was going on in Rhodan's quarters. Perry was enough of a telepath to pick up the gist of any mental messages from Marshall. So this separation did not entirely break off their communications.

  Of course none of them were able to know what was happening outside of their quarters but at the moment that didn't seem to be strategically important.

  Two hours later the sound of increased traffic in the corridors indicated that preparations for takeoff were getting under way. John Marshall reported telepathically to Rhodan that their Arkonide commander had gone into a last minute conference with Admiral Calus and had given him an order from the Regent. This was to the effect that in the coming weeks he was to draft still more Zalites and to use force if necessary. He was in fact supposed to issue the corresponding instructions during his TV appearance that very day.

  The takeoff occurred 10 minutes later.

  The 'g-shock' resulting from the tremendous acceleration was so well absorbed by the inertial compensators that they hardly noticed any additional pressure. Rhodan could see that the Zalites present had apparently resigned themselves to their inexorable fate. Singly or in small groups, they sat along the walls and stared apathetically into space. In their minds they probably all saw themselves somewhere on a space warship, flying toward an unknown target destination where they would certainly be attacked by an overwhelming foe. Rhodan wished very much that he might be able to give them a word of encouragement or some sort of consolation but it was too dangerous. No one must know that he was a Terran—in fact a member of that very race against which Arkon intended to wage war.

  It only took seconds for the hypertransition, after which the deceleration began. Up in the Command Central they should already be in sight of the Arkon System—the central point of a mighty stellar empire that was hastening toward its irrevocable destiny. The three main planets of the system circled their sun in a single synchronous orbit, in the pattern of an isosceles triangle. Rhodan was fairly certain that their ship would land, on one of these planets, though perhaps not on the most important of the three. On that sphere was the robot Brain, the Regent of Arkon, who was the prime target of the present dangerous mission.

  Three hours after the takeoff from Zalit there were new stirrings on board the ship which indicated they were approaching destination. They must have emerged from transition somewhere inside the star system's fortified defense ring because the brevity of their passage through the outer perimeter could not be explained on the basis of normal flight at the speed of light.

  In the bulkhead of the cargo hold that was their billet a hatch door banged open. A robot appeared and announced in a cold, metallic voice: "All units will disembark in 30 minutes. You will pack your gear together and stand by for further orders over the speaker system." The towering machine went out again, closing the door behind it.

  Rhodan sat in a comer among his men. He sent out a mental call: John Marshall! Is everything OK with you?

  The soundless answer returned at once. All OK here. As soon as we leave the ship let's try to stick together.

  You're on! was Rhodan's terse reply.

  For some time now he had ceased to be as calm inwardly as he pretended. The suspense was now at its high point. He was sure that before they set foot on Arkon they would be processed through another inspection. He didn't have the slightest idea of what methods might be used at the new checkpoint. It could be simply a personal interrogation or even something of a technical nature. Or even a medical examination! In the latter case, of course, they would face the greatest danger of discovery.

  The freight transport landed with a light jolt. Almost at the same time a voice boomed from the loudspeaker near the ceiling. It said that the Zalites were to remain in their billets until they were mustered out. The instructions of the robots were to be strictly obeyed.

  A strange feeling came over "Rhodan He had never experienced it before and yet it was a quite normal reaction under the circumstances. Something unknown lay before him but now he could exert no further influence over the course of events. Whatever might happen during the next few minutes, either hindering or accelerating the situation was out of his hands. For an indeterminate period of minutes or hours, he, Perry Rhodan, would be totally without responsibility.

  A strange feeling, indeed!

  He was startled out of his thoughts when the hatch banged open once more and the robot returned to blat out a command. "This unit out—single file!"

  Rhodan took his time. First the real Zalites exited the cargo hold and formed up in the corridor, five abreast. The robot began to count step. When Rhodan left the large room he was in time to see the other 100 men of his commando team marching away. His own group followed directly behind them.

  They went through long corridors until they reached a main cargo bay. The individual groups were left to themselves or allowed to mingle, so Rhodan succeeded in getting his men together. They were finally in a closed unit and were determined not to be separated again.

  Slowly the batch of the loading lock swung open. A breath of cool fresh air streamed into the room. Outside in the distance could be seen several low, rambling buildings under a dark blue sky that was slightly on the violent side.

  Somebody coughed.

  Gorlat stood next to Rhodan and whispered in Zalite: "That air is pretty darn dry—and poor in oxygen. Does that jibe with the data we have on the main planets of Arkon?"

  Rhodan did not reply but his eyes narrowed. The atmosphere of the three Arkon planets was similar to that of Earth. However, what he was breathing in now wasn't much more than an improved version of the atmosphere of Mars. What the devil—?!

  His thoughts were abruptly interrupted again as a robot voice sounded from the hatchway: "Forward by fives—march!"

  Rhodan had no reason for holding back any longer. He gave his men a signal and they fell into step with the rest. A broad ramp led down to the planet's surface. A robot stood on either side of the hatchway and counted the 5-man rows.

  To his right, Rhodan saw the sun in the sky. It had to be the Arkon sun, no doubt about it. But it was smaller than he remembered having seen it before. His growing suspicion was fully confirmed when he looked to his left beyond the buildings and became aware of a vast, faintly shining sphere—a planet!...

  A shock of dismay gripped him like an icy hand. They had not landed on one of the three main planets. They were not on a planet at all but on a satellite with hardly a breathable atmosphere!

  To his great consternation, Rhodan perceived that the robot Brain was not taking the slightest risk in this operation. Before the monster let anybody get near Arkon they had to be gone over with a fine-toothed comb. And whether or not the Terranians could stand up against this new inspection was another question. But everything depended upon the answer.

  • • •

  The caravan ground its way laboriously into the storm. A wind had come up suddenly and now blew steadily from the West. It drove the sand ahead of it which caused new dunes to
form. The 11 Zalites had tied kerchiefs or scarfs to their faces in order not to be suffocated by the fine dust that filtered through the narrowest cracks in the driver cabs.

  Rhog sat next to the bearded man who was driving one of the desert rigs himself. "Murgo, I hope we don't get off the road in this storm."

  The caravan leader harumphed. "If we do, so what! You can hardly tell it from the desert, anyway. Besides, we have bearing and tracking instruments. We keep driving west, sooner or later we'll come to Tagnor."

  After a period of silence, Rhog asked: "How far is it from here?"

  Murgo glanced at him searchingly. "How is it you're in such a hurry to get to the capital? Out here in the desert you're much safer than you'd be in Tagnor. I don't quite understand your big rush, my friend."

  Rhog realized he'd have to be more careful if he didn't want to arouse suspicion. One day sooner or later didn't make any difference—as long as Calus died.

  "This sandstorm got me a bit worked up," he said evasively. "If we got stuck in the sand..."

  "That's an impossibility!" exclaimed Murgo, laughing heartily. He pointed to the ponderous tractor treads of the vehicle, clearly visible through the side windows of the cabin. "They don't make dunes big enough to stop these brutes! But if it's any consolation you can keep in mind that there won't be any Arkonide air patrols in this kind of weather—so we can travel in peace."

  After all, that was a plus factor, thought Rhog with some satisfaction. He thought of his companions whom he had left behind in the mountains. What would they likely be doing now, just waiting? Waiting around for the sensational news that might never come? Rhog could well imagine that the Arkonides might put a blackout on the news of Calus' assassination, if that would serve their purposes.

  Thus he realized that if the Admiral's death were to be known he would have to kill him right out in public. Which of course increased the risk for him, perhaps to the point where he'd have no hope of escape.

  "What are you cogitating about?" asked Murgo, breaking into the spell of silence. "Maybe you're worried about your future—which is the same future for all of us. Well, you might as well figure that our chances in general don't look too good, Rhog It doesn't mean anything to the Arkonides, what happens to us. They need troops so they grab them from anywhere they please, not just from our world alone. There's a big war involved somewhere—I don't know who with. But it must be a very powerful enemy if it's big enough to threaten Arkon. Up till now the Regent has always been able to take care of such threats without our help but now his robot armies aren't enough to handle it. He's putting men on the battle line."

  "That very fact could actually be a source of consolation—to know that there is somebody who is stronger than the robots of Arkon. We should keep that in mind when we're brooding about the future. It means there's still hope."

  "For the race of men, for our people eventually, yes—but what about us in particular? What about our personal lives? Don't you think the Arkonides will find us all soon enough and be getting around to drafting most of us? Don't you think that Zalit will be half-depopulated before the Arkon Empire collapses?"

  Rhog smiled coldly. "In the mountains and deserts of Zalit, many men are hidden who will one day be prepared to reconstruct their world. The Arkonides won't be with us much longer."

  Murgo watched a whirlwind of sand as it passed in front of them. "What makes you think so, Rhog? Do you have any special reason to believe that Arkon will soon be able to get by without us?"

  "No, of course not. I was just hoping, that's all."

  As Murgo looked straight ahead into the sandstorm his lips quivered slightly. "I see," he said and then became silent.

  This suited Rhog. The monotonous roar of the engine helped him to hide his thoughts. He was worried. The big idea that had come to him so easily back at the mountain camp had gradually turned into an insurmountable problem. Admiral Calus would surely be heavily guarded and it would probably be impossible to get close to him. The robots would be protecting their master's life and would not let anyone get through their security blockade.

  But then later toward evening when Murgo turned on the video receiver to hear the Admiral's daily harangue, Rhog had a new idea. He looked askance at the small viewscreen and watched Calus' cruel and arrogant face.

  With his hatred came a new confidence that he had found a solution—a way to get rid of the tyrant once and for all.

  • • •

  The air was cuttingly cold.

  They stood in front of the line of transport ships and waited for orders from the robot guards. By now the Arkonides had dropped their masks completely and given the Zalites to understand that they were to regard themselves as prisoners. None of the Arkonide officers that had been on Zalit had come along, so Rhodan and his men not only faced a brand new environment but also a completely new set of enemies.

  Rhodan was standing between Atlan and Bell. The pivot man on the right end of their 5-man squad was Gorlat, and John Marshall was on the left.

  "Where do you think we are?" whispered "Rhodan who wanted his suspicions corroborated. Two with the same opinion was better verification than thinking solo. "Bell, you know this system as well as I do. I'd say by the size of Arkon's sun..."

  "My guess is... the 5th planet out," replied Bell in equally low tones. "We're on a moon of the 5th planet. According to our information the name of the planet..."

  "I remember it now," Rhodan interrupted. "And here we are on its satellite. Number five is a giant planet. This moon is called Naator—almost the size of Earth, thin atmosphere, mostly desert, some mountains—all in all it's far from being a luxury spa. But security it has! Nobody gets out of here except by a ship of the Regent and with his direct knowledge of it. A nice, beautiful trap!"

  "I wouldn't say that, Perry. Sounds better to call it a springboard to Arkon. If it just weren't so cold around beret"

  Atlan murmured almost inaudibly: "Those buildings over there are the barracks. If I'm not mistaken, Naator is some sort of troop training center. Arkon has military schools on a cosmic scale for all its colonial races. Here they get their advance training. I think we're on the right road here on Naator."

  "I'm trying to remember," said Bell. "Isn't the 5th planet inhabited?"

  Rhodan nodded almost imperceptibly. "By the Naats—they're like Cyclopes but with three eyes. They're basically harmless and completely submissive to Arkon. The Aras use them as guinea pigs for their medical experiments."

  The Aras were descendants of early Arkonide settlers thousands of years ago—a very unusual race which made its living through the art of healing others. Their other 'art' in the matter had been to make a very good business of it. In fact there had been one time when they had deliberately infested other planets with a plague so that they could extract a forced profit from the resulting 'hospital services' on an interplanetary scale. The Aras were very thin, highly intelligent and not at all good-natured.

  "Are the Naats intelligent?"

  "Not especially, Bell. We could hardly have anything to fear from them. Of course, though, some of them have been used as ship's officers."

  On the giant field of the spaceport, by now more than 50,000 Zalites had fallen into formation and were being guarded over by patrolling robots. The small, distant sun of Arkon gave very little light at this distance, much less any warmth to speak of. A dry, icy wind blew in sharply from the desert and Rhodan was thankful that he was wedged somewhere in the middle of the human swarm. The Zalites on the edge of the field must be half-frozen by now.

  Suddenly there was a stirring and whispering that spread through all the 5-man squads. Across from them on the broad side of the main building a giant viewscreen flamed to life. On it appeared the face of an Arkonide who wore an Admiral's uniform. Simultaneously a widely spaced battery of loudspeakers blared forth with the Admiral's voice so that every man on the field could hear him. "Zalites!"

  Rhodan was thinking of how much the Arkonides looked to the
ir own comforts and convenience. Somewhere inside a warm building the Admiral sat at his ease and addressed the newly arrived recruits. Perhaps this was a daily chore for him which was purely routine but at least he did not have to freeze in the process. He sat at a desk with a microphone in front of the video camera.

  "Zalites!" he repeated. "In the name of the Regent of Arkon, I welcome you to Naator the distribution center for the Imperial fighting forces. Here you will be trained and allocated to the units of the Fleet. You are soldiers of Arkon, Zalites. You are pledged to the Regent and thereby you are obligated to fight for him and if necessary also to die in the performance of your duty! You are fighting for Arkon but this means you are also fighting for Zalit, your home planet. A powerful foe is threatening our existence. Once we have defeated him, you will be taken back to Zalit. Until then you must do your duty. Obey the orders of the officers and robots until you, yourselves, are appointed to a command position. That is all I have to say to you today. I am Admiral Semekho, Commanding Officer of Naator. And now you will be assigned to your quarters."

  Another face appeared on the screen. "Your billet locations are to the west of the landing field. In each conical building there is room for 1000 men. One robot will take over each 1000-man group and direct them. Note your robot's serial number because from now on you will direct all questions to him. He is responsible for his troop unit."

  It was a simple but effective arrangement. Nevertheless another two hours went by before Rhodan's team marched off with 850 Zalites. They were led by robot #574.

  To the left and right of the broad avenue, Rhodan noted that radar monitors had been placed at regular intervals, which made it impossible for anyone to leave the camp colony and get away. He was sure that the troop training area was surrounded by still more effective detection equipment but they were probably completely superfluous because any fugitive would sooner or later succumb to the barren desert.

  The conical buildings came into view, just barely distinguishable against the background of eternal twilight. The Arkon star sank beyond the horizon but it did not get much darker. The sky remained dark violet. Millions of stars gave enough light to cast faint shadows. The Arkon System was located in the center of a spherical star cluster and the splendor of the blazing stars far exceeded the human imagination.