Venus in Danger Read online

  It would have been a waste of energy to deploy the weapons of the Stardust to attack the mountain camp. The armament of the battleship was intended for compact targets and Rhodan would have to vaporize the whole mountain to make sure that the forces of the Eastern Bloc were completely annihilated.

  However he did not have any such thing in mind. His smaller arms far outclassed those of the expeditionary force. If he proceeded with circumspection, he should be able to gain his objective without suffering casualties and without creating major upheavals on the surface of Venus by the indiscriminate use of the Stardust's awesome might.

  Obviously, Rhodan had decided to revise his strategy.

  He considered it no longer necessary to destroy the invaders. On the contrary, he would have liked it much better if the life of as many as possible members of their division could be spared in the imminent showdown.

  Their spaceships had to be destroyed as well as all of their weapons which would create havoc on Venus, but he did not want to kill anyone.

  Rhodan had devised certain concrete plans for the future of the other army.

  • • •

  Tomisenkov worked so furiously that he did not hear the slithering sound at first.

  He stopped what he was doing and became almost stupefied listening to the ominous sound which came closer and closer until something swished through the air.

  He did not hazard a guess what it might be. It was pitch dark and he was afraid to light a match.

  The terrifying object exuded a stench which nauseated him.

  He heard a second swishing noise and felt a strong blow against his shoulder that nearly knocked him down. He noticed, even in his state of fear, that his shoulder had been hit by something rather soft which seemed to be about the size of a big arm.

  At least that was how the blow felt. He ducked and crouched down. He began to see dancing spots before his eyes and was overcome by fright. His forehead broke out in a sweat and his ears were ringing. He drew his pistol, gathered his last ounce of courage and waited.

  The thing he had heard had evidently entered through one of the chutes. The fact that it had not fallen in as he had but apparently approached it slowly, indicated that it was not one of the victims for which the trap was built. It probably was the builder of the pit.

  At the moment the animal seemed to be very agitated. Somewhere above Tomisenkov's head it slid around in the darkness and then the soft but powerful arm came down for the third time.

  This time it moved purposefully. It crept around Tomisenkov's shoulder and pried under his arms. Tomisenkov forced himself to wait.

  When the slimy arm began to lift him up, he fired his pistol. The shots crashed like roaring thunder in the subterranean room. Tomisenkov felt half unconsciously that the sensitivity of his ears were impaired and he noticed a loud ringing sensation. The explosions of the shot almost deafened him. He kept his finger on the trigger of the automatic pistol until the firing pin clicked on the empty clip.

  The arm which had seized Tomisenkov seemed to tremble. Tomisenkov could feel its grip weaken and he sank to the floor. Eventually the arm let go of him. Wounded by his shots, the ghastly animal above him raised a savage din.

  Tomisenkov had his second clip ready to shoot. He thought that he had finished off the beast or that it would get out in a hurry.

  Therefore it came as a deadly shock to him when he heard the whooshing sound once again as tentacles slammed down, almost touching his face. When he fell down he had changed his position and the predator had to hunt for him as before.

  His nerves were about to give out. He did not want to find out whether the injured animal would manage to grab him a second time. He aimed his pistol in the direction from which the noise came and pulled the trigger again.

  When he had emptied the magazine he toppled over and fell face down into the stinking dregs which were collected at the bottom of the funnel.

  All his strength had left him. He tried in vain to raise himself up on his hands but the muscles of his arms were too weak to support his body. Moaning helplessly, he fell over again.

  Now he became aware that all was quiet around him.

  He listened anxiously.

  Other than a slight slithering noise in the distance he heard nothing at all.

  His success in driving. away the nauseating creature gave him new courage. He finally got back on his feet and after waiting five minutes in complete silence, took a chance and lit another match.

  The funnel was as empty as he had seen it half an hour ago. There was no trace of what had happened in the meantime except the holes his bullets had made in the wall.

  Tomisenkov was perplexed. There were two distinct rows of bullet holes, one row from each clip he had fired.

  The two rows were about equidistant from the opening of one of the shafts leading into the funnel. He had aimed at the shaft opening because he had suspected the animal was there but in the darkness he had hit the wall instead, missing the target equally to the left and to the right.

  Each clip contained 50 bullets and—according to Tomisenkov's quick guess—each row of holes apparently consisted of the same number. Therefore, none of his shots had found its mark. Why then did his tormentor beat a retreat?

  Although this was a very interesting question, the most urgent solution he sought now was how to get out of his trap. With renewed vigor he resumed cutting steps in the wall and soon crawled into the end of the chute through which he had bounced so unexpectedly beneath Venus' surface.

  He was afraid he would run into some more difficulties in the shaft but fortunately some growing vines had contributed to the outside cover of the entrance. These vines had been dragged down into the shaft when Tomisenkov tumbled in and now they were hanging there waiting to be used as climbing ropes. Tomisenkov tested their strength, found them satisfactory and clambered up them without delay until he was back on safe ground.

  He remained flat on the ground for a while, catching his breath. Then he got up to continue his way in the planned direction.

  There was no sign of the pursuers Rhodan had sent after him. In spite of some strange noises around him he got the impression that he was, for the time being, safe from other abominable beasts. In any case he was happy that he was unmolested and that the hunt was over.

  Just the same he would have liked to know where the animal into whose trap he had wandered had gone. He had no desire to meet up with it again by fleeing too hastily.

  He struck a match and looked around.

  The light did not reach very far but he found immediately what he was looking for.

  Not the track of the animal but the animal itself.

  There was no doubt that it was dead. Had Tomisenkov's olfactory sense been less irritated by the smoke of the powder, he would have noticed the stench sooner.

  The creature resembled a mollusc, as he already had deduced, a species of polyps living on land. The main body was about four or five feet high and 10-foot tentacles extended in all directions. One had lifted Tomisenkov up.

  Tomisenkov speculated as to why the repulsive organism had died. Finally he concocted a theory which at first glance seemed rather dubious.

  His shooting had caused three effects; first the bullet holes themselves, then the powder smoke and fumes and finally the noise of the detonations.

  The bullets had evidently missed entirely. This left only the two other effects. Either it must have been poisoned by the fumes or killed by the noise. Tomisenkov could not decide which was the more likely cause of its demise.

  He inserted the third clip into his pistol and marched away. The manner in which he had tackled the polyp reinforced his conviction that he would be able to overcome all other challenges of the jungle.

  • • •

  By this time Rhodan had gathered alt necessary intelligence pertaining to strength, personnel and intentions of the Eastern Bloc units.

  He knew that the expedition was originally comprised of 500 spaceships
.

  Gen. Tomisenkov was in command. Serving under him were two major generals, five colonels and a great number of lower ranking officers. Only one of the major generals was still alive, Lemonovich, and Rhodan's prisoners were certain that he would take over the command of the remaining division as soon as he came to the conclusion that he could not count on Tomisenkov's return.

  The objective of the expedition was clear. When Rhodan had returned from his first voyage to Venus he had not kept it a secret that he had made important discoveries on that planet, discoveries of a scope to make him independent of the good or ill will of the various power blocs on Earth.

  The Eastern Bloc did not know the details of his discovery. In any case the new government which in the interim had seized power in the Eastern Bloc coveted his base on Venus and attempted to occupy it. This was the purpose for which Tomisenkov's division had been thoroughly trained. It was launched into space in 500 spaceships to land on Venus.

  Even more remarkable than the unabashed aggression exhibited by the ambitious government of the Eastern Bloc was the technical excellence with which it had been achieved. The vessels of the space landing division were equipped with nuclear engines of the same type which the first Stardust had used on Rhodan's flight to the moon. The trip to Venus took four weeks and the armada had accomplished it without a single loss.

  "People of such caliber are capable of conquering the universe," Rhodan mused bitterly, "if only they weren't put on the wrong track by some fools."

  Proceeding according to his plan, he flew northwest from the raided camp to rout the remnants of the division from their new hiding places. Meanwhile Deringhouse had rejoined his little troop. He had taken Lysenkov and his men to the Stardust where Lysenkov underwent further interrogation under hypnotic influence. Lysenkov's statements were compared with those of Trevuchin, Tomisenkov's aide. There were no discrepancies and none were expected.

  At midnight, Venus time, Rhodan's detachment reached the foot of the mountain where the survivors of the expeditionary force had concealed their last spaceships. Rhodan had very little to go by in ferreting out the hostile battleships since the Stardust had observed nothing more than the course of their flight. But he knew that they were distributed over an area of 3000 square miles and therefore presumed that the crews would communicate by radio from time to time.

  He posted his men on elevated spots and instructed his radio operators to monitor the communications between the members of the opposing division and to pinpoint their locations.

  After approximately 80 hours he had already marked 50 different spots on his map—each one representing the location of one of their transmitters.

  The points lined up in three, sometimes four rows across the central part of the mountain. While Rhodan was unable to make out any detailed features from the map which he had drawn on his first flight to Venus, he was nevertheless convinced that there were valleys where the points were recorded. It was highly unlikely that the rocket ships would have set down on exposed slopes or peaks.

  At 85:00 o'clock, when the night neared its end, Rhodan departed with his group. Bell had reported from the Stardust that everything was in order. He also emphasized that time was of the essence. The computer on board the Stardust had given a warning signal. There was little time left to gain entrance to the Venusian fortress. If too much time elapsed, even the main positronic brain in the fortress would be precluded from computing the complete orbit of the planet Wanderer on the basis of the known fragment of its curve.

  The transporters flew along the mountain slopes in the same northwesterly direction. They moved along at an average altitude of 12,000 feet above the plain. But even at this height the mountain slopes were covered by the jungle as densely as the level plain. A 12,000-foot difference in altitude did not cause any significant change in the hot, moisture-laden climate of Venus.

  The observation screens reflected the bizarre surroundings. The mountains were still young and the formations were distinguished by steep and abrupt changes in their contours.

  At 88:00 o'clock the aerial flotilla was above the first spot marked on the map. Rhodan did not care to attack at this location simply because it was closest. He preferred to approach from the north in order to throw the enemy into confusion.

  One hour later the transporters had reached the center of the row of points on the map. Rhodan veered to the south and closed in on a spot from which he had received one of the strongest signals.

  The first light of day appeared over the horizon as Rhodan cautiously steered the craft over the sharp edge of a precipice where a deep basin was gouged out like a vertical cylinder. The floor of the basin was 6000 feet below the edge. The wails of the basin went straight down, exposing many fissures. The diameter of the basin measured about five miles.

  The transporters descended close to the mountain wall. The day had not yet dawned inside the valley. It was dark and unless the adversary happened to aim their radar against the mountain walls they would have no warning of the incipient attack.

  The spaceship could only be detected on the screen of the range finder. So far the infra-red searchlight showed nothing and Son Okura was unable to recognize anything either. Apparently the rocket ship stood in the midst of very high trees. The gap it had broken when it landed was already covered up by the luxuriant growth of the vegetation on Venus.

  Rhodan touched down not far from the wall. He left a complement of four men behind to guard the transporters. He led the others into the jungle toward the spaceship whose position had been fairly well determined by the range finder.

  They moved along the floor of the forest. Rhodan thought it would be too risky to make use of their transport suits. This way it took them two hours to reach the neighborhood where their goal was hidden.

  By now it was also lighter in the valley. Son Okura was no longer the only one who could see something.

  And then they discovered the spaceship.

  It had sunk a few yards into the soft ground of the jungle and stood a little askew. Doubtlessly it was still intact and a skilled pilot would not have too much trouble to get the slanting ship off the ground.

  It was standing on its rear fins. The outline of an airlock hatch was visible on the metallic skin of the hull between two of the fins. Rhodan motioned his men to stop.

  "We'll burn out the hatch," he suggested. "It won't take more than a minute. They haven't noticed anything in there as yet. Each of these vessels has quarters where 20 men can be carried. The cockpit is at the top. I don't know how many people are inside but they could be either in the crew deck or in the cabin, so watch out! We don't necessarily want to wring their necks but if there's any resistance we'll shoot. Is that clear? Nothing must go wrong!"

  8/ FIVE LEVELS OF PERIL

  Maj. Gen. Lemonovich had concealed his rocket near the northwest of the chain. A second ship had landed in the same valley shortly after his own.

  Upon receiving Gen. Tomisenkov's call for help, he had ordered one of the ships at the far end of the chain to leave and to pick up the general. After 100 hours had passed and the ship had not reported back, he assumed that it had either crashed or that it was shot down by the enemy. During that time he had not communicated with the general or his aide. He had made every effort to get in touch with them by radio and concluded that they too had fallen victim to the fateful environment.

  He had advised his troops that Gen. Tomisenkov had probably lost his life or was in the hands of the enemy and that he as highest ranking officer assumed command of the division.

  This had sounded very efficient but after he had made his announcement he racked his brains what to do next.

  His hiding place was evidently safe. What he had feared most had not occurred; his opponents had not turned the mountains into a smoldering, radioactive wasteland as they were in a position to do with their advanced weapons, if they chose. He did not know why Rhodan had neglected to do this but he was happy with his stroke of luck.

&
nbsp; Nevertheless, they had not come here to while away their time in a hide-out till his ships rotted away and his soldiers got old. Something had to be done.

  As the day was breaking, Lemonovich was sipping black coffee, which had been strictly rationed. While pondering his problems, something came up which eliminated his headaches with one stroke.

  With a hard knock somebody pushed open the trapdoor hatch, which separated the cockpit from the quarters of the crew below, and stuck his head in. Lemonovich wanted to rebuke him but the highly excited man blurted out: "News, sir! C-145 was attacked by the enemy. Only five men are still holding out in the pilot's cabin. They're calling for help. Rhodan himself is taking part in the raid!"