Recruits for Arkon Page 5

  Toffner carefully removed the small transmitter case from his pocket. He activated it and placed it on the door of the cave, exactly in the center so that there would be enough room to the right and left. Rhodan had expressly emphasized in his instructions that this was important.

  Toffner regarded the metal case thoughtfully; it was now sending out its signal. Of course the transmission was being propagated at the relative speed of light but in the present case this was not vital. Because if Rhodan needed this signal so that he could locate the cave it meant he'd have to be in close proximity to the planet Zalit.

  A new excitement caused Toffner to start trembling suddenly. It was the realization that he would not be alone for long now...

  3/ ALARM IN THE YOGA SYSTEM!

  The special commando unit's patience was put to a hard test. For almost two days the Drusus and the California plied their far orbit around the Sol System while waiting for an answer from agent Jeremy Toffner.

  The entire combat group was already on board the California, ready to go into the next phase of the mission. The California was the light cruiser type with the super-fast propulsion, capable of uncanny acceleration. Within five minutes it could reach the relative speed of light.

  Of the commando team, only two were still on board the Drusus. One of them was Rhodan, who was waiting for Toffner's vital hypercom message. The other was Pucky, who had wanted to be with him. As soon as the signal was in, the mouse-beaver planned to flash over to the California in a teleport jump.

  Lt.-Col. Baldur Sikerman, the super battleship's commander, had just turned over the pilot seat to a younger officer in order to go with Rhodan and receive final instructions for the mission. The two men sat in a room that was adjacent to the Communications Central where David Stern monitored the hypercom receiver, waiting for the message. There was no danger that the sharply-pulsed transmission from the Burma would be intercepted by others. At the most, the entire message would only have a 10th of a second duration. Even before anybody could turn a tracer beam on it, the transmission would cease.

  Sikerman repeated his instructions once more: "So I take a 10-minute head start over your action and do a hyperjump that brings me within one light-minute of Zalit. During approach flight and retrobraking, I locate the trace-beam transmission and get the coordinates. Our matter transmitter is in the radiation field of the teletransmitter, which will be aimed precisely according to Toffner's guide beam. Then, within approximately one minute, the teletransmitter will be activated and the matter-transmitter station will be beamed to Zalit. After that, I pull back the Drusus and secure."

  Rhodan confirmed this. "That's all you have to do. Just make a short transition and wait for the California to join you again. She will have finished her part of the mission 10 minutes later. Then you and the light cruiser will go to the calculated standby position. Toffner will get m touch with you if it's necessary and when we need you. I think that about covers everything."

  Sikerman made a wry face: "Everything? Very good, sir.

  Rhodan smiled. "Everything as far as our plan is concerned. I will refrain from making any prophecies just now as to the outcome of the total action."

  The door opened and Pucky poked his head in. "The signal is in, Perry. Stern is running it through the decoder."

  Rhodan got up with an almost unnatural slowness. He nodded to Sikerman and followed Pucky. Suddenly the commander scrambled out of his chair and hurried after the other two into the Com Central.

  "Another two or three minutes, sir," said David Stern. "Then we'll have it. The Burma was super cautious and double compacted the pulse-burst pattern." He worked at the decoding machine and searched for the right control adjustments. Then a humming noise started in the complicated apparatus. Register lights flickered, accompanied by a whispering of tiny relays and a clicking of delay-line circuits.

  Rhodan waited patiently while Sikerman rested nervously on one foot, then on the other. Pucky stood slightly to one side, a small monument of imperturbability.

  Finally, a paper tape strip came out of the machine. Stern took it and immediately handed it to the Chief Administrator.

  Guide beam operating. Time 14:00.

  That was the message—nothing more.

  Sikerman took the strip and studied it. "Then does this mean we're set, sir?"

  "I'm going now with Pucky, back to the California. You will begin in exactly three minutes to accelerate. You will reach your Zalit position by way of the four hypertransitions you were directed to use. Overall, that will bring you to Zalit in two hours." He checked his watch. "I will expect the receiver to be on Zalit and ready for reception by 17:00 Earth time. Here's luck, Silkerman—well all need it!"

  Sikerman shook hands with Rhodan. Then he turned abruptly and hurried away toward the Command Central.

  David Stern looked on as the little mouse-beaver stepped close to the Administrator and took hold of his hand. Then the air around them began to shimmer and suddenly the forms of Rhodan and Pucky had totally disappeared.

  Almost simultaneously the propulsion engines of the Drusus began to set up a howl. With its gshock absorbers compensating for the awful pressure of acceleration the ship peeled away from its solar orbit and struck a course for the first transition point.

  Rhodan and Pucky had already rematerialized on board the California. Exactly three minutes later, the light cruiser also hurtled outward into interstellar space.

  The great gamble for a stellar empire had begun. But it was also a gamble of life and death...

  • • •

  When Toffner shut off his hyper-transmitter and concealed it in its rocky hiding place, he knew that there wasn't anybody now who could stay the course of events.

  He had returned safely to Tagnor in the glider and immediately sent out the message that had been agreed upon. When Rhodan and his men would arrive, of course, he didn't know. He also had no idea of how many men were involved or what they planned to do. He had simply carried out his instructions and now he waited. The directional beam had been operating for 80 minutes.

  He left his hideout chamber and took a deliberately erratic course in the direction of his friends so that he could inform them concerning his conversation with Hhokga. Markh and Kharra were very pleased to learn of the fabric merchant's readiness to help. They urged Toffner not to delay any longer. They said he should complete his preparations and go under cover as soon as possible.

  Toffner made the excuse of having to take care of a few matters yet and he hastily said goodbye. He knew that his two friends would no longer be much involved in the forthcoming events. They were now mere bystanders in an operation of galactic magnitude.

  He gave a deep sigh of relief as he came up to the surface through the legitimate entrance and once more drew fresh air into his lungs. Down below in the catacombs there were still a few air-conditioning units in operation but they were far from adequate for the labyrinth of rooms and passages involved. In the course of time, the stuffy atmosphere down there tended to hang in the lungs like so much dust, making it hard to breathe. It was something one had to get used to.

  He had made all the preparations he deemed necessary. In the vicinity of his own hiding place there were a few large chambers which could serve well as shelters and workshops. He knew nothing of Rhodan's actual plans but he had enough imagination to more or less visualize the developments to come.

  Perhaps, he thought, it would be well to return now to the desert and wait for Rhodan's arrival. His rental glider was in a parking area close to the arena. He started off briskly in that direction, suddenly filled with a sense of new urgency. He felt instinctively that somehow he must hurry in order to get there in time.

  He had already turned the last street corner and was in sight of his goal before he came to an abrupt stop, startled.

  A few solitary sentinels of the Zarlt's guard-watch would have been nothing to get excited about because they were generally no cause for worry. However, that which surrounde
d the parking place now was a full cordon of heavily armed Arkonide fighter robots. Among them moved a few uniformed officers of the Imperium. They were checking everybody who sought to reach the civilian aircraft parked in the area.

  Toffner observed that some of the Zalites seeking entrance were sent away. On the other hand, some of the others were being grasped roughly by the robots and taken away. Perhaps they were Zalites who had been careless enough to try to make a business trip without proper identification?

  Toffner smiled, reassured, and reached for his I.D. card in his coat pocket. Everything under control. He was a registered citizen of Tagnor, born on Zalit, and followed a legitimate trade. Among the Zarlt's soldiers he had many friends and patrons because they all loved the fighting games in the arena, though they might not admit it officially.

  He simply continued onward toward the parked vehicles and soon discovered his glider in the place where he had left it. However, an Arkonide officer blocked his way.

  On the man's face was the typical arrogance of his race. "Can't you see that it's forbidden to enter here?" he said peremptorily. "No one may leave Tagnor without our permission!"

  It was an unexpected jolt for Toffner. More was involved here, apparently, than a mere checking of permits. Why shouldn't anyone leave Tagnor? Such a restriction only occurred in case of a revolution or a war. The present political climate of Zalit had reflected neither of these conditions.

  War...? Well, so what? At least not here on Zalit!

  "My business affairs require that I fly to Larg," he replied, taking out his I.D. "My papers are in order, officer."

  The Arkonide took the credentials and studied them intently, after which he observed Toffner's face somewhat testily. "You operate the fighting arena of Tagnor?"

  "Everybody here knows me—or do you doubt the authenticity of this document?" Toffner pointed to the I.D. card. "Just ask any of the soldiers over there."

  "Why should I do that?" retorted the officer. He watched Toffner's expression, then continued. "When are you going to shut down your business and come with us to Arkon? Do you know your recruiting date by now?"

  Like a bolt from the blue it was suddenly clear to Toffner that he had walked right into a blunt, wide-open trap. This was no permit control setup. In effect it was a 'recruiting point' for the Arkonide armed forces.

  As calmly as possible he nodded and answered with cold deliberation: "Of course I know my deadline... I still have seven days. Why do you ask?"

  Toffner's outward calm made a visible impression on the Arkonide. "Is that so—7 days? And what's your business in Larg?"

  "I told you I have to take care of some of my affairs there. If I have to go into training on Arkon, somebody will have to run the arena for me. I have to give him some instructions and procure a few fighting animals. You can appreciate that even during a war—in case there really is any conflict in progress—people don't like to do without their entertainment and pleasures."

  "Nor you your business activities, I see... No, that goes without saying. But what guarantee do I have that after seven days you won't disappear somewhere and cause us to be waiting here for you in vain?"

  "Disappear?" Toffner's expression was so genuinely nonplussed that the officer could not suppress a broad grin. "Where could I possibly disappear to?"

  "Don't think you'd be the first one! There have been many already who have failed to show up for roll call, although they were summoned. All of them will be found and punished. Here. Your pass! In Larg you will report to the commander in charge of the recruitment board there. If you fail to do that you'll be in trouble—even before the termination of your seven days!"

  As Toffner took back his I.D. from the officer he concealed his sense of relief. Putting on a show of confidence and innocent righteousness, he passed the robot guards and walked over to his rental glider. He sensed the gaze of the officer on the back of his neck but he didn't look back again. With a slow indifference, he opened the cabin door, climbed in and then took off.

  Robots, aircraft, Zalites and the officer—all fell swiftly away below him as he negotiated his exit pattern and struck an eastward course toward Larg. He climbed higher and kept a lookout for police or military aircraft but he wasn't able to see any. Far below him he made out a long, marching column... robots... robots...

  Tagnor was like an armed battle camp. Toffner began to suspect that he would never be able to return officially to Tagnor again without running the risk of simply being shoved into service by the Arkonides.

  He revved his machine to full speed and within 15 minutes he reached the mountains. After he had made certain that no other aircraft was in the area, he dropped with lightning swiftness into the depths. He pulled up at the last moment and made a gentle landing in the basin.

  Everything was still undisturbed; there was nothing to see. Above was a circular patch of sky, cloudless and clear. From that direction only was there any threat of danger.

  Suddenly, Toffner tensed, staring upward.

  Wasn't that a metallic flash of light up there? Far up, probably way, way out. There—again! Then a brilliant burst of light that swiftly faded.

  Maybe he was seeing mirages already... He shook his head and moved toward the cave where he had planted the directional beam transmitter. Just as he was about to enter, a figure approached him from the inner darkness.

  A Zalite!

  With a lightning movement, Toffner reached for the weapon he had concealed in his clothing. They had found his hiding place! All was lost!

  He made a giant leap that brought him behind a boulder, where he resolved to defend himself to his last drop of blood, in order to avenge this would—be betrayal, whoever it might have been.

  He slowly raised his weapon.

  • • •

  When the Drusus emerged from its 4th transition, Zalit appeared as a large ball, no more than 20 million kilometers distant. Of course this was only as seen in the view-screens because to the naked eye it would only have been a brightly glowing star at the distance. For after all, one light minute is still a considerable stretch.

  Sikerman was a model of composure. He knew that he only had a three minute head start. The Drusus began braking its speed immediately. The matter transmitter in the transfer field of the teletransmitter was activated. It had to be ready to receive, once it arrived on Zalit.

  Rhodan only had this one TTM. He had received it while on the synthetic planet Wanderer as a gift from the immortal entity there. Since then they had tried in vain to duplicate it. The strange machine operated on 5th dimensional principles and was able to transfer objects to any desired location with no loss of time.

  As for the matter transmitters, they had already been produced on Earth but they had a short range and only worked when both a sender and receiver were available. It was just such a receiver that the Drusus had to beam down to Zalit with the help of the teletransmitter. Rhodan required it to be in position there before undertaking his phase of the operation.

  Sikerman smiled grimly to himself. If there were to be any hitches, it was not going to be his fault. He'd soon take care of his part.

  An alarm shrilled through the Control Central.

  "Two cylindrical ships on light-speed approach, sir! They're signaling an Arkonide code and request identification."

  Sikerman retained his monumental composure. He looked calmly at the chronometer. "Let them have it!" he said tersely. He still had 40 seconds. "All weapons!"

  The Drusus outclassed the two scoutships by far. These could have been Arkonides or perhaps recruited members of a subject race. Before the aliens could begin their attack, a titanic invisible fist drove them back millions of kilometers into space. Their engines and power plants collapsed, rendering them helpless. Only with an effort could they keep themselves on course, utilizing emergency energy reserves in their storage banks—but they needed part of this in order to warn Admiral Calus that an alien ship of Arkonide design had penetrated the system and failed to
give any identification.

  Exactly 30 seconds after the Drusus made its appearance, a red alert raced thin the solar system of Voga.

  With greatly reduced velocity, Sikerman dove into the atmosphere of Zalit and circumnavigated the planet Until he received a signal from Stern that he was picking up the direction beam. Automatically the target tracer of the TTM. locked onto it before it was activated.

  One second later the transmitter's transfer chamber was empty. The matter-receiver station was now somewhere on Zalit. If everything had gone according to the program, it would be sitting within 10 meters of the still-functioning direction transmitter.

  The Drusus swung around and raced out into space again. It had come within 100 kilometers of the planet's surface.

  But the Arkonides were alerted now. Their warning system was working perfectly. More than 200 robot ships responded to the signal from the two spindle cruisers—and the Regent of Arkon began to suspect that wherever a super battleship of the Empire class appeared it had to be connected either with Arkonides or those accursed Terranians!

  Naturally the robot Brain was not programmed for invectives but if he had possessed such human characteristics he would have indulged in such an expression now. So he had to be content with cold figures and soulless calculations.

  Admiral Calus received the dispassionate order to fire upon any Arkon ship that failed to identify itself.

  The command reached Calus at a time when the Drusus was already into hyperspace, leaving not the slightest trace behind it. But in almost the same second the California appeared and hurtled directly into the blockade formation of the alerted robotships.

  When Rhodan beheld Zalit on his viewscreen, he was figuratively staring into the projector gun-muzzles of more than 30 light-cruisers and many more unidentified supporting ships.

  The challenge for an identification signal went unanswered.

  Following their instructions, the robots leveled a murderous barrage of fire at the unknown spherical spaceship which had emerged from hyperspace and was now attempting to penetrate their defense front.