The Plasma Monster Read online

  In the small Control Central, Gim Sarem asked Vu Pooh a question: "So what are we really going to do with Mal-Se, Vu?"

  "Nothing! Well take him back with us because our head start over the white-skins is still more than one time period." There was a hint of triumph on his expressive face. "These alien ships are ridiculously slow. The Ruling Council will be surprised to know how slow they really are. That's what makes it all the more difficult to understand how they could have broken through our energy curtain."

  While the methane atmosphere roared past the Retse-U again and the starship withdrew from the inhospitable planet with an incredible acceleration, a brief buzzing signal was heard in the peaceful control room. The transmitter the Akons had erected on the Betelgeuse world was advising them automatically that it had made its contact with the giant transmitter station in the Blue System. Vu Pooh had expected no more and no less from his specialized commandos. It was not the first time they had accomplished such lightning-swift work.

  Chief engineer Gut-Ko entered the Control Central. He had come to obtain information concerning the giant ship of the white-skins that was reported to be flying toward them. Gim Sarem manipulated a control dial and out of nothingness appeared an unusual viewscreen which duplicated a miniature representation of the Betelgeuse system with all its planets but it also revealed the position of the white-skins' ship as well as their own.

  Gim Sarem explained the situation for the engineer. "At present the sun is between us and the aliens. Only their observation station can detect us just now. The big ship is entering the system at 0.9 light-speed. But now we're going to increase our lead on them of one time period to near infinity." He raised his head to look at the engineer and he noted his grim expression. "Not quite satisfied, Gut-Ko?" he asked.

  Gut-Ko shook his head. "Gim, with those entirely antiquated spaceships, how did the strangers ever manage to get into our system in the first place? It couldn't have been just a coincidence."

  "It doesn't make any difference now, Gut-Ko, coincidence or otherwise. The aliens will land where we were back there on the planet and Mal-Se will pay them a visit. So it's superfluous to even discuss them anymore."

  At that moment the Retse-U vanished from the void to plunge into a higher continuum.

  The 3-D sensor on Ori-12-1818 lost the ship's image on its special screen and simultaneously the hypersensor's oscillograph displayed the puzzling flat waveforms once more.

  4/ GATE OF THE UNKNOWN

  At a velocity of 0.9% the speed of light the Drusus hurtled onward into the system of the giant sun Betelgeuse. The hyperjump was behind them and the side effects of rematerialization had subsided for everyone on board. Bell and Deringhouse were engaged in a low-voiced conversation in front of the star map which showed the course of the alien ship, Perry Rhodan still sat in his chair and silently pondered the situation.

  He was not even shaken from his meditations by an announcement from the hypersensor section: "Spacewarp with abnormally flat amplitudes. Location: approximately one million km from planet #7!" He felt that the appearance of the Akons so close to the Sol System was no coincidence but he wasn't able to figure out what was behind this very short visit.

  Ori-12-1818 came through with a brief report which was also being transmitted to Solar Fleet Headquarters. "Unknown spaceship of non-standard class has vanished from the normal continuum, presumably by means of hypertransition. This occurred one minute and 18 seconds ago. We have no further responses on our relief sensor screen. End of message."

  But now Rhodan stirred himself. He got up and went over to the hypercom panel. "This is Rhodan speaking. Request data from Ori—how long was the alien ship on the seventh planet's surface and what's the location of their landing site? I'm standing by for the answer."

  When he spoke these words, the conversation between Bell and the general was suddenly cut off. They turned around to Perry while he was still at the microphone.

  Lt. Harold Fitzgerald's voice crackled from the loudspeaker: "Tracking Station Ori-12-1818 to the Chief! Duration of alien ship's ground time on 7:29 minutes and four seconds. Landing site location..."

  The ship's computer automatically registered all the data that Fitzgerald was transmitting. When the report ended, Rhodan looked up pensively. Many crewmen in the Control Central saw him shake his head.

  "How much longer?" Although his question seemed to be disconnected, the copilot understood him.

  "We can reach the landing site in 20 to 25 minutes, sir, provided the tracking data are correct."

  "Thank you," Rhodan replied as he went over to Bell and Deringhouse. "Well, gentlemen, what do you say?"

  Bell took refuge in silence. Gen. Deringhouse lifted his shoulders in a single shrug. "Baffling, sir—completely inexplicable! What can anybody possibly do in just a 30 minute stay on a planet?"

  Bell blurted out the first thought that came to his mind. "He can lay a cuckoo's egg!"

  Deringhouse laughed briefly. "If there is such a thing as a galactic cuckoo..." But immediately he gave Bell a warning look and surreptitiously indicated Rhodan.

  The latter was looking at the star chart but seemed not to see it at all.

  Meanwhile the Drusus raced past Betelgeuse at a safe distance and then swung off to take up a course toward the large methane planet. The giant viewscreen system was filtered down to where it only admitted a 10th of the stellar monster's yellow-red flood of light and still the illumination was much stronger than the normal lighting of the Control Central.

  "A galactic cuckoo's egg..." Rhodan repeated the words and looked at Bell finally. "My fat friend, you know you often have inspirations that are priceless."

  "Glord!" exclaimed Bell defensively. "I didn't say anything actually!"

  "But you did. You said a lot, Reg. Since hearing your remark a weight's been taken off my mind."

  "That may be," said Bell, who felt uncomfortable at the moment, "but what could a wisecrack like that have to do with the Akons?"

  Rhodan smirked faintly and cast a quick glance at the general to see if he had perceived how much truth was contained in the casual remark. But Deringhouse had also failed to follow the trend of Rhodan's thoughts.

  "OK," he said, "we won't belabor the point. Perhaps when we've landed on #7 at the Akon site we can take a look at the cuckoo's egg they've left behind."

  "Perry, you don't seem to trust them very much."

  "Would our experience with the pre-Arkonides justify anything else? When we first met the Arkonides themselves we were heavily exposed to their high-nosed arrogance. So when we arrived in the Blue System we ran into the original root-race of the Arkonides—the Akons. They wouldn't even take notice of our presence among them. Would you call that anything but arrogance and exaggerated pride?"

  "Hm-m-m... In their technology the Akons have a 40,000-year lead on us. Considering that and your belief in a cuckoo's egg, Perry, what are we really expecting to find on the methane world?"

  "Danger! An insidious form of menace, gentlemen—probably double so inasmuch as we may not recognize it as such initially."

  A call from the energy tracking station interrupted him. "Sir," said a lieutenant, "we've just picked up an energy emission—it's weak but steady. Coming from #7, from the location that Ori-12-1818 indicates as the landing site of the unknown spaceship."

  "Report immediately if there's the slightest change, lieutenant," Rhodan ordered.

  The great spacesphere measuring almost one mile in diameter began to brake its speed. The soaring g-pressure was counteracted by the inertial absorbers and in a matter of a few minutes the Drusus dropped from a velocity close to speol down to 300 sec/km. Meanwhile a third of the converters went to full power, the inertials howled, the super-powerful impulse engines thundered in the equatorial ringbulge and transformers and power stations were rumbling and roaring at maximum. In spite of the size of the ship and the distance between the power and engine rooms from the Control Central, the avalanche of sound penetrated a
ll acoustical barriers so that the men at the command controls had to raise their voices to be heard.

  Also in the meantime the brilliance of Betelgeuse had subsided to where its light was bearable under more direct observation. Circling the stellar giant at a vast distance, planet seven now appeared as a basketball-sized celestial orb at the upper edge of the panob screens. At first glance it seemed to be merely a cloud of gas but as the robot positronics cut in some adjusting circuits the nebulous atmosphere vanished to reveal the giant planet itself.

  Apparently suspended in space, it was a jagged, frozen world devoid of life. Its rotational rate was 129 hours but in comparison to its great size this was extremely swift, resulting in powerful turbulence in the atmosphere.

  The Drusus' high-precision instruments detected hurricanes having velocities as high as 400 km/hour but at an altitude of 40,000 km the air masses raced along at 10 times this speed. Number seven was a dead world and with a gravity pull of 5.3 Gs it definitely qualified as a heavy planet.

  "It's getting to be a bigger mystery than ever, what the Akons were up to here," said Gen. Deringhouse.

  He had just issued orders over the intercom that all crewmembers assigned to the landing detail were to put on their special spacesuits. Following the Drusus' braking manoeuvre the ship was placed on battle alert. All gun turrets were manned and all firing position hatches had opened. The Fire Control Central was under high tension.

  Two decks below, 180 crewmen wordlessly changed into their special protective suits. 10 minutes prior to landing the last ready signal from stations was received in the Control Central. The Solar Fleet's super flagship appeared to be ready for anything—including even mysterious eggs that the Akons may have hidden here.

  • • •

  The Drusus stood on the surface of the seventh planet. In spite of the roaring hurricane it remained as motionless as though it were at its home spaceport in Terrania. But all outer hatches were still closed. Neither robot nor reconnaissance rocket had been released as yet. The order for action had been delayed.

  And Perry Rhodan had no intention of issuing such an order. First he had to know the purpose of the thing out there just four km away. It was about the size of a house. Under maximum magnification it filled the main observation screen. It was clearly determined that the energy emissions were coming from the structure— still weak but with a steady intensity.

  "Gentlemen!" Rhodan's voice broke the silence in the Control Central. "What is that? I can't figure it out. Can anybody tell me?"

  He received no answer. He shot a question to Fire Control and confirmed that more than 50% of the Drusus' guns were aimed at the unknown object.

  This confirmation gave everyone a certain sense of security, inasmuch as only a third of the giant battleship's fire power was capable of converting a small planet into a wasteland within minutes, without employing fusion bombs. But even the latter were ready for launching. Actually nothing could happen to the huge ship— and yet a feeling gradually grew that they were facing a danger against which their defenses would prove inadequate.

  "What is it?" asked Rhodan again. There was a grave expression in his grey eyes. "The Akons had a reason for letting us find this thing so soon. What in the world can it be, Reg?"

  The latter replied with a despondent shrug of his shoulders.

  "Sir!" The lieutenant at the energy tracker fairly shouted. "We have a new emission reading! Never seen anything like it—like a warp shock and yet— something else again. Wait...! Now it's gone again!"

  Was this the signal for Rhodan to take action? "Positronics! Analysis, please— and hurry it up!"

  Bell and Deringhouse secretly exchanged glances. No one knew this tone in Rhodan's voice better than they did.

  A strip of plastic foil popped into the computer's receiver tray. The man who picked it up took one look at it and stiffened in amazement. His voice was hoarse when he announced: "Nothing! The positronic brain is unable to analyze the input from the energy sensor!"

  Rhodan's voice was ominously calm. "I expected as much. Well, Reg, any further doubts as to whether that Akon ship was manned or not?"

  "No, I'm sorry to say. But that doesn't help us to know what that thing out there is supposed to be."

  Rhodan answered with sarcasm: "Well, since the Akons didn't leave us any operating instructions for it, we'll take a minimum risk. However, I don't want to

  use the troops. Deringhouse, are the combat robots ready?"

  "Four groups of 60 each, Chief!"

  "And what's the situation with the robo-technics, General?"

  "I've given orders to have five of them programmed."

  "Then send them along with the others. We'll remain here and watch the action on the screens. Reg, any other ideas?"

  "How about our mutant televisor, Perry? Is Harno on board?"

  "No, and I've already regretted his absence. He probably could have given us better information."

  At this moment they heard a loud voice behind them. "What the devil are you doing here?" someone asked roughly. "Who are you, boy?"

  Perry guessed who had entered the Control Central. He turned to see that Walt Ballin had just been stopped by Poul Naya. "Naya, let the gentleman pass. By the way, he's a journalist from the Europa News in Paris. In his latest feature article he claims that Solar Administration is following a destructive policy because it's neglecting to keep Terrans sufficiently informed concerning galactic policies."

  Thus Rhodan tossed a 'hot potato' into the hands of the Drusus' staff in Control Central. These were men who would unheedingly face fire for their Chief and they were enemies of anybody who tried to reproach him.

  "Is that so!" blurted out Poul Naya with a gleam in his eye. "Sir, don't you think this gossip writer is the perfect candidate for our action outside? Since he's a professional snooper, why not let him take a close look at that thing out there? He might learn a few things in a hurry about what's going on in the galaxy!"

  In spite of the undecided situation facing the Drusus, Rhodan's men took the opportunity to vent their displeasure. They had always been anything but kindly disposed to journalists. However, if they had expected to find an enemy in Walt Ballin they were deceived. He had no intention of confessing the sins of his colleagues only to become a martyr.

  On an impulse he reached out his hand to Poul Naya. "That's a deal on one condition," he said. "I'll let you send me into the action after you've managed to

  write an intelligent feature article for the Europa News!"

  "But I'm no newspaper writer!" retorted Naya incautiously.

  Ballin nodded pleasantly. "And I'm a member of the Solar Fleet, mister. I'm here on board the Drusus as a guest of your First Administrator."

  Rhodan smirked at the journalist's quick repartee which had made any further aggression impossible. He called to him. "What Lt. Naya says about first-hand observation has its justifications, Mr. Ballin. Come take a seat here and join us as we watch the developments on the viewscreen. Have you been informed

  concerning our mission?"

  "Thank you, sir, I have. Your Lt. Puck has briefed me."

  Despite himself, Bell sharpened his ears. Now he didn't want to miss a single word because he detected the possibility of shenanigans in this so-called briefing by the mouse-beaver.

  There was also a twinkle in Rhodan's grey eyes when he asked, "And what did Lt. Puck tell you, Mr. Ballin?"

  "He said that this mission would involve an encounter with the Akons from the Blue System. Their technical advancement is supposed to be so superior that it would be a mere trifle for them to wipe out the Arkonide and Solar Imperiums together. Sir—the way you're looking at me—is there something wrong about my information?"

  "Quite! But my astonishment isn't directed at you as much as at Pucky, who should know—"

  Instantly the mouse-beaver was between them and he squeaked at them while making a pitiable attempt to stand at attention. "I'm here, Perry! But you should know that amon
g your officers there are no liars or tellers of fairy tales!" Whereupon Pucky disappeared.

  The general burst of laughter in the Control Central was suddenly silenced when the viewscreen revealed the advance of 245 combat robots toward the thing, which was four km away. Nothing could deter the heavy march of the giant fighter machines, neither the gravity of the massive methane planet nor its hurricanes.

  "How about that!" muttered Bell aloud to himself. "A major robot assault against the Trojan Horse!"

  Nobody noticed Rhodan's slight start at these words. Reginald Bell's mixed proverb concerning a Trojan Horse had suddenly broken his mental impasse. He knew at last what the thing represented.

  It was an Akon interstellar transmitter!

  • • •

  But the transmitter on Betelgeuse #7 was of special construction. It was not only a means of transport from star to star but also a picture transmitter. On Sphynx at this moment, three Akons were sitting before a gently curved viewscreen where they casually observed the tremendous 1,500-meter spacesphere and the troop of marching robots. The latter had advanced to within two km of the transmitter station.

  The youngest of the Akons laughed amusedly. "It seems that destiny is on our side. Mal-Se won't even have to exert himself."

  But he was contradicted by the elder Akon to his left. "Destiny is not involved here but rather the leadership of the Energy Command and the calculations of Vu Pooh. The place was so selected that the ship of the alien white-skins would have to land where you see it now. After all, what is destiny but the vagary of chance? Numbers, however, leave no room for chance. In fact it is numbers that can even shackle chance itself and hold it prisoner. You shouldn't ever forget that, Hut-Up!"

  "I shall try to remember, O Wise One," replied Hut-Up.

  The three Akons in the Blue System were unimpressed to the point of boredom as they watched the advance of the Terranian robots toward the transmitter

  Station. When the leading phalanx of fighter machines had come to within several hundred meters of their goal, the Akon whom Hut-Up had called the Wise One turned to the colleague on his right.