Thora's Sacrifice Read online

  "Attack from yellow 43.78... the rest was drowned out by a triple blast of fire and the light cruiser owed its continued existence only to the fact that the disintegrator beam from the Imperial ship had merely grazed its energy shield.

  The gauge dial showed a magnitude of 100% which normally was the breaking-point of the energy mantle. Even Deringhouse, the general who lived through hundreds of catastrophic situations, became visibly nervous as the Burma was shaken to its core.

  But a fraction of a second later the dial had already dropped from the maximum limit. With a deafening roar inside the Burma all its energies were thrown into the outer breach and the defense screen was safeguarded.

  "Radio operator... radio operator!" The First Officer tried, with cracking voice, to get the attention of the radio room.

  Didn't the Fire Control Officer hear his call or did he start speaking at the same moment? He asked the Command Center in the loudest tone: "Why don't I get orders to start firing?"

  Hendrik Olavson, the man who had just come from the Space Academy, was in his element. He played with the Burma like an artist on his instrument. He had saved the lives of his mates half a dozen times already. Olavson seemed to sense from which direction the attacks came and spontaneously dodged the lethal beams.

  All of a sudden the officers of the light cruiser realized that they had jumped into the middle of a tremendous battle raging between the Arkonide robotships and the Druufs.

  Small suns exploded on the wide observation screen of the Burma, furiously spreading out in all directions but their brilliance soon was swallowed up in the darkness of space—battleships which had disintegrated in atomic holocausts.

  Luminous streaks lunged menacingly from all directions in hues of green, yellow and pink. The light cruiser of the Solar system seemed to have plunged into pandemonium.

  "Let's get out of here!" foe Pasgin yelled.

  His young co-pilot tersely confirmed: "Tiger 32!" He couldn't have formulated it more succinctly. The Burma was to be yanked out of space-sector Tiger 46 and he wanted to reach sector Tiger 32. These sectors were designated by the Solar Fleet and divided the entire area of the overlap-zone and the blockade front in identifiable units. The power generators and transformers of the Burma howled through the ship which had only inadequate soundproofing. The propulsion jets located in the equatorial bulge spewed out glaring streams of impulse-waves which spurred the Terranian ship in the direction of Tiger 32 when three gigantic spaceships of the Imperium class were spotted approaching head-on.

  "We were recognized!" the voice shrieked from the loudspeaker. It was a call from the radio room of obvious significance. Hendrik Olavson reacted at once with his inherent talent for steering a spaceship. The transformers were cut back and the power generators reduced to 1/8th of efficiency. The gravitation-absorbers continued their task of, eliminating the suddenly released force of the thrust which was produced by the abrupt change of acceleration.

  "Elmes?" Pasgin called the officer standing at the positronic, following the events on the observation screen. He questioned him with a glance.

  The officer understood what Pasgin wanted to know. "Positronic data bank in unsecured state!" he replied.

  Deringhouse smiled grimly. The unsecured data bank of the Burma’s positronic brain was a precaution which had to be taken to prevent an unfortunate accident enabling the Arkonide Imperium to acquire the Galactic coordinates of Terra's position. The unsecured state would allow all data stored in the bank to be wiped out at the first sign of danger to the light cruiser and thus all references that could lead to the discovery of Earth. As he thought about this possibility Deringhouse was inclined to call the Robot Regent every name in the book.

  The hatch of the Command Center slid open. Deringhouse and Pasgin turned around at the same time and were surprised to see Thora enter the room.

  As the hatch rolled shut again the radio officer announced: "Message from robot-ship IgDro 34, Imperium class. Proceed to..." Then followed a rush of coordinates which were immediately picked up by the positronic computer. "The three super-battleships will escort us. What shall I answer?"

  Deringhouse leaped to the mike. "Deringhouse. Switch the call to the Command Center!"

  The connection was established without delay and the rigid 'face' of a robot appeared on the picture screen. However before the general could utter a word there was a blinding flash at starboard. A battleship of the Druufs had broken through unnoticed and tried to blow the Burma to smithereens.

  None of the people in the Command Center was able to see it but the three robot-steered super-battleships of Arkon had taken action at the same moment the attack of the Druufs occurred. Under the blistering fire of their combined weapons of destruction, the hostile battleship from the other time-plane went up in bright-red smoke.

  But the enemy had succeeded in hitting the Burma. Thanks to Hendrik Olavson's incomparable mastery he had once more evaded a square hit. The absorption capacity of the protective screen had been saturated by the glancing shot up to 95% and only a mere 5% had kept the energy beam from smashing into the armor plate of the Burma.

  The expanding cloud of red-hot gas, the pyrotechnic spray of the Druufs' battleray together with the barrage of retaliatory fire from the three robot-battleships, had turned this small space-sector into an inferno of solar heat and deadly violence.

  Despite the blinding light Deringhouse finally was able to focus his eyes on the optical lens-system of the robot commander who examined him like an object. "I'm Gen. Deringhouse of the Solar System and I am authorized to speak on behalf of Perry Rhodan. Why were we subjected to the attack by Arkonide ships despite the fact that we've advised the Regent of the arrival of a Terranian ship?"

  The 'Soul' of a positronic robot is the X, the unknown number—the unfeeling logic. With his metallic voice the commander of the super-battleship IgDro 34 stated his identity number and replied: "The order of Arkon's Regent to repulse the attack the enemy is waging on three fronts has priority over all other instructions, Terranian. Now move up closely so that we can escort you safely out of the battle zone!"

  Politeness was not on the program of the positronic battle-machine. The robot commander switched off and now Deringhouse finally found time to devote himself to Thora and the purpose of her presence in the Command Center. "Thora..." he began but when he looked at her, astonishment took his breath away. He could hardly recognize Perry Rhodan's wife. Before him stood the proud Arkonide Thora of Zoltral and what she had once upon a time represented in the Great Empire before the positronic mammoth-brain had taken over the ruling power over a decadent Galactic nation. The Imperial Commander had entered the Command Center of the Burma and her radiant appearance made a mockery out of the medical diagnosis of the physicians.

  "General... gentlemen! I believe the time has come for me to participate actively in the negotiations. Please don't let my presence disturb you." She walked smilingly toward Deringhouse. As critically as he studied her, he could find no trace of tension or fatigue.

  Behind him Joe Pasgin and Hendrik Olavson saw to it that the Burma joined the three Arkonide battleships of the Imperium class to escape the furious fighting in this space-sector with their guardians.

  Deringhouse offered Thora the only free chair in the Command Center. She thanked him and asked so softly that only he could hear her: "Deringhouse, am I really ill? I can hardly believe it myself!"

  He remembered her condition when he had met her in the cottage at the foothills of the Valta Mountains and couldn't forget the urgent warning Chief Physician Dr. Villnoess had pronounced. And now he faced Thora—not as a young woman but as a lady who knew how to accept the first hardly detectable signs of beginning age with inimitable elegance.

  Deringhouse no longer found it difficult to smile back at her as he said with a full heart: "Thora, I admire you!"

  The crass reality disturbed these moments of intense feelings. The radio room announced: "The Robot Regent wants to talk to you
, General!"

  "I'll take the call here," Deringhouse answered.

  Thora put her hand on his forearm. "Wouldn't it be better if I conduct the negotiations now, Deringhouse?"

  At this moment the garbled message from the agent on Aralon flashed through his mind and he felt troubled by a vague fear for Thora. Therefore he replied: "I think it would be a smarter tactic if you wait to put in an appearance on Arkon 3. Please, move a little to the side where you'll be out of the camera's range!"

  The picture screen of the hyper-radio transceiver began to flicker. As always the connection with the Regent was preceded by a mind-boggling display of colored patterns and followed by a picture of the metal dome that housed the main elements of the gigantic circuit installations"

  Without further ado the Brain asked: "Where is Rhodan?" He simply ignored Deringhouse's presence, who was already accustomed to the peculiarities of the giant positronicon.

  "He's unavailable at this time, Regent," the general responded in the same brief manner. "Code word Garyloon 010 Arkon."

  "Your knowledge of the code word still requires a check of your identity. Proceed to Arkon 3!"

  Although the general knew that his objections were a mere waste of time and that the Robot Brain only seldom changed his mind after a decision, he remonstrated: "Regent, I'm already known to you as Terran Deringhouse. My partner in the negotiations."

  The huge switchbox merely reiterated in a monotone: "Proceed to Arkon 3. Identification is necessary. Prepare to discuss trade of 100 spaceships."

  And as abruptly as the Brain had begun to talk, it ended the communication in its authoritative declarations. Thora was the only person aboard the Burma beside the general who was experienced in the direct and blunt approach typical of the Robot Brain.

  Deringhouse looked dubiously at Thora who stood near the empty chair where she had followed the short conversation with great interest. "I don't like the attitude of the Regent, Thora. The order to appear on Arkon 3 for identification is transparent..."

  "But we want to go to Arkon, Deringhouse!" she exclaimed in bafflement.

  "Of course and I wouldn't mind his tone of command either if he hadn't stressed his willingness to enter into negotiations. We know from bitter experience how convenient it is for the big positronic to lie... and its readiness to talk business concerning the 100 vessels is a lie!"

  Thora shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't agree with your opinion, Deringhouse. Maybe you worry too much about me."

  Deringhouse had trouble remaining calm: He had to hide the truth from her. Without Perry Rhodan's wife on board he would have worried one-tenth as much and if she had been well he would have faced the future events with a great deal more confidence but under the prevailing circumstances the outlook for the crew of the Burma was bleak.

  Nevertheless he acted as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I hope to be convinced very quickly that I'm wrong about the Brain and that you can judge it better than I."

  For the next three hours the Burma skirted the blockade front under the escort of the three super-battleships. Twice during that time they had to evade unexpected and determined onslaughts by the Druufs but Joe Pasgin and Hendrik Olavson refrained from giving the slightest hint as to the acceleration potential which was concealed in the light cruiser.

  Then came the curt message from the IgDro 34 that the escort was terminated and the robotships of the Arkonide Imperium disappeared without bothering with formalities.

  6/ ESCAPE IMPERATIVE

  The last transition left the Burma in the middle of the stellar cluster M-13.

  The spherical agglomeration of stars had a diameter of 99 light-years and more than 30,000 celestial bodies had converged in this region. They were the inner core of the Great Empire and the realm had every reason to feel big.

  The observation screen of the Burma reflected a fantastic spectacle. Sun stood next to sun and the density of the concentration created a sparkle, glitter and iridescence of a magnificence beyond compare. The soft shimmer of the Milky Way had disappeared as if it never existed. Instead the picture screen in the Command Center of the light cruiser was flooded by a show of scintillating colors which evoked the admiration of the most hardened space travelers.

  M-13 was the seat of the immense Arkonide Empire—a grandiose act of creation where the stellar configurations crowded together with such cascades of light that it was impossible to isolate a particular sun by eye.

  The Burma, although built on Earth, was a further refinement of Arkonide construction and due to this fact its navigators were able to cope with all galactonautic problems with apparent ease despite the confusing multitude of planets. The masters among the astrogators could only take a silent bow in recognition of the Arkonide technology and hyper-mathematics.

  While the men in the Command Center were thrilled and transfixed by the incredible splendor of colors of the 3-D picture, the positronicon of the light cruiser computed the distance to the Arkon system.

  Its central star was a very large sun shining glaring white. It had 27 planets. Three of these planets had a special significance. They circled their sun in the arrangement of an equilateral triangle. Their name was the same as the stellar configuration and they were differentiated by the numbers one, two and three.

  Arkon 1, or the Crystal World, with a gravity similar to Earth, was the planet where the Arkonides resided. The administration of the Great Empire was located on Arkon 2 which was also a transit place for the trade throughout M-13.

  Arkon 3 however had probably no equal anywhere in the Galaxy. Larger than one and two it was one big place for manufacturing weapons and armaments. Here the gigantic Arkonide warships were produced in a constant flow. It was the heart of the Arkonide war-machine—military administration, fleet and war ministries—and the Robot Regent.

  Deringhouse breathed heavily when he thought about the immense switch-complex. Once again he was struck by the grotesque fact that a positronic computer had been designed many thousands of years ago by the leading scientists of Arkon who had the foresight to program it during a few centuries for its task to take over the government of Arkon. It had assumed power several decades ago—Terra time—and nobody was happier about it than the decadent Arkonides who lived in a state of over-indulgence which was incomprehensible to the population of Earth. From that time on the Arkonides abandoned all restraint in their reveries and lost all awareness of how degenerated they had become.

  Deringhouse called Thora on the intercom and her expectant face appeared on the picture screen. "Thora, may I ask you to come to the Command Center? I want to talk to the positronic Brain in a few minutes."

  Thora agreed and Deringhouse switched to the Communications Center. "Contact the. positronicon on Arkon 3!" he ordered.

  "Structure disturbance!" the Monitor Officer reported. "Five ships!"

  The transition jump into star-cluster M-13 had also been performed without damping the auto-frequency of the Burma and the vigilant Arkonide space surveillance stations had picked up the structure disturbance caused by the Terranian vessel with their compensator instruments. Five warships were immediately dispatched to scrutinize the visitor from hyperspace.

  At the same moment the Communications Center started flashing the identification signal of the Burma in a constant stream as triggered by the automatically present data.

  Against the background of the multitude of stars the outline of three heavy Arkonide cruisers, that threatened to ram the little Burma, became visible. Suddenly they veered from their course and pulled alongside the Burma.

  The Communication Officer switched through to the Command Center and the screen lit up. The face of a robot that was speaking appeared on the screen but there was no sound.

  Then the radio room announced excitedly: "Positronic Brain fails to answer our call but has established communication with one of the five Arkonide spaceships!"

  Now the sound of the message was restored. The suspension of the sound had been de
liberately induced by the radio officer to keep the information he had given Deringhouse from reaching the outside world.

  Thora entered the Command Center but again the General had no time to turn around. However he didn't request her this time to move out of the camera's range when she waited at his side.

  "...escort to Arkon." She had just come in time to hear the last words. Then the connection was cut off by the robot before Deringhouse could say a word.

  "It doesn't look good," the general commented apprehensively. "We can't get through to the robot Brain although he talked to one of the robotships. Escort, my foot! It sounds fishy, Thora!"

  "General!" the radio officer said anxiously. "KK-o-76398 demands that he take charge of directing the Burma!"

  KK-o-76398 was the robot commander of one of the five Arkonide warships. He had told the general he would escort his flight to Arkon.

  "I'll talk to him," Deringhouse said with icy calm. The First Officer Joe Pasgin gazed at him and noticed with satisfaction the grim smile on his lips.

  Once more the impassive face of the robot appeared on the illuminated screen.

  "My friend!" Deringhouse exclaimed, "you can tell your Regent that we're no Arkonides but Terrans—and Terrans don't like to have their ships steered by robots!"

  Deringhouse made a point of showing that he could be just as impolite as a robot although he was aware that these mechanical men could not be affronted by virtue of their built-in programming.

  Joe Pasgin and Olavson had their hands full maintaining the Burma in the center of the warships' closed formation that was supposed to take them to Arkon. They had no intention of colliding with the other units although there was no danger of damage by a direct impact which was made impossible by the powerful protective fields which surrounded each ship. Nevertheless they would have been loath to give the appearance of being amateurs by flying in closed formation.