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  We found ourselves in Room 18-B. A man long ago chosen as a double sat in my room. He wore my uniform and I had put on his. Rhodan, Bell and several other officers had also assumed other identities. We were now simple crewmembers whose presence in Crew Barracks 18-B would not be suspicious even if we were being observed by camera.

  We had done everything to follow our plan exactly. We sat at one of the low, six-cornered tables and played the part of angry soldiers who because of the stubbornness of their commanding officer had not been allowed to leave their quarters. This was the first opportunity we’d had in days for a serious briefing

  Rhodan was noticeably thoughtful. I also saw that he lacked the nervousness that he should have felt so close to an important event.

  My auxiliary brain reminded me of the odd smile he had shown on board the Kon-Velete just before the landing. I asked the cause of it.

  Behind us, the men of the commando team sang a song whose lyrics told of the vastness of space and of a crash-landing on an alien world. Huster’s booming voice drowned out our brief but meaningful discussion.

  Rhodan looked around cautiously before announcing: “Your theory’s correct, Atlan!”

  I became more attentive. What had Rhodan discovered? “Which theory?”

  “The business of the failsafe circuit. When we got the order to land from Control Station A-R-145, it referred to the sleepy-headed behavior of Commodore Gailos with only the words— ‘His Eminence is resting’. That shows that the Robot Regent’s attitude towards an authentic Arkonide changed.”

  “Changed?” I echoed in surprise. “How?”

  “You weren’t with me when I landed on Arkon for the first time almost 70 years ago. At that time, even high-ranking Arkonides were brusquely treated. The Imperator himself on the Crystal World was ordered around. At that time, not one inhabitant of Arkon occupied a key position as Gailos now more or less does. Such a mild and restrained explanation of an officer’s ship-endangering conduct would have been impossible then. The Regent would never have allowed itself to simply report: ‘His Eminence is resting’. Is the difference clear to you?”

  I quickly glanced over to Bell. He bit his forehead with his palm and said in a choked voice: “I remember! He’s right! The Regent was subjugating every Arkonide. Thora and Khrest were treated like tramps.”

  Rhodan gave a barely perceptible start at the mention of his late wife’s name. Bell guiltily lowered his eyes. Huster swung into another song. I thought quickly.

  “You conclude from these facts that the Regent has been given new instructions concerning the treatment of educated Arkonides?”

  “Yes, exactly!”

  “From whom did it receive them?”

  He looked at me ironically. His glance at his watch did not go unnoticed by me, either. “From your famous failsafe circuit in the heart of the Brain. A special programming must have gone into effect, forcing the Regent to be polite and restrained.”

  I was familiar with Rhodan’s clear logic. With its help he had built the Solar Imperium. I was by no means disinclined to accept his theory; in fact, it would have reassured me considerably. Nevertheless, there seemed to be something he was overlooking.

  “We still have another quarter hour,” I said. “I’d lay less credence to the idea of an activated overriding circuit and more in the Regent’s mechanical logic. The Brain has realized that brute tyranny alone is not enough. Moreover, there’s the Druuf menace and numerous subject races are manning the Imperium’s ships. They submit to the authority of the usual commanding robots only involuntarily. So the Brain realized that it would have to fall back on genuine Arkonides.”

  “Even though it knows about their decadence?”

  “Yes! The Regent is grasping at straws. Thus its restraint in the case of Gailos.”

  “It’s a moot point,” John Marshall put in thoughtfully. “It could be one or the other. I’ve tried to investigate the contents of the minds of the Arkonides present here. They don’t know either why they’re suddenly being trusted again with important posts. Not only that, the aren’t enthusiastic about it.”

  Lt. David Stern, the orderly officer then on duty, entered the quarters. We quickly stood up and saluted. He returned the salute idly. Huster went on with his battle song.

  I watched the young lieutenant, who strolled slowly through the corridors and looked around as though on an inspection. Two men assigned to the watch followed him.

  He played his part well. Here and there he stopped and reprimanded the men. He came slowly towards our group.

  When he was directly beside us, he said lowly: “We’re ready, sir.”

  “Hand out the passes,” Rhodan answered without turning his head. “Have you talked with Ras Tschubai?”

  “Yes sir, everything’s all set. We’ve been briefed.”

  “We march out in five minutes. Give the men a short talk outside. Orient yourself following Marshall, though: he’ll be in constant telepathic communication with me. If something goes wrong, act according to the plan.”

  Stern went on and disappeared through the room’s second door. I knew that there was no turning back now. The two teleporters had found out the source of the continuous droning and rumbling.

  A few kilometers north of our quarters, the vast cavernous chamber burned out of the rock came to an end at naked stone walls. Only two sealed armor-plated doors allowed entrance into the complex of rooms beyond. In all probability, only special robots had entered those rooms for thousands of years.

  Powerful current-generators were running in that labyrinth, which lay, according to our calculations, directly beneath the edge of the energy dome on the surface.

  That fact alone would not have convinced me that these were the Brain’s power plants if the off-limits cavern rooms were not also defended by auxiliary energy screens. I knew very well that this was not the normal practice. The current supply for the many shipyards and roll-bands came from a centrally located power station. It had never been a matter of sealed armor plate doors or even of defense screens there. That meant the machinery complex discovered by Tschubai and Kakuta must have some special importance.

  Since we had found no other way of knocking out the Robot Regent, we had decided to strike directly at its mainspring.

  Three minutes later Lt. David Stem came back into the room. A soldier of the watch shouted for quiet. We got up and stood at attention.

  Stern announced loudly: “Leaves are granted for part of the crew. Step forward as I call your names, and pick up your passes!”

  Rhodan, Bell and I were called first. We marched to the front, took the luminous plaques (signed by me beforehand) and hung them according to instructions from the thin cords around our necks. The numerous robots in the vast quartering area sensed the impulses from the plaques. A man wearing one would never be troubled by a robot, assuming the code-programmed data was in order. I had obtained the small encoding device from a robot when we first entered our quarters. As far as I could see, everything was running smoothly.

  Ten men finally stood in front of the lieutenant, the mutants Tschubai, Kakuta, Seiko and Okura among them. Sgt. Huster’s platoon was there as well.

  There would not have been any point in attempting to undertake the operation with more than 10 men. After all, we had to get inside the power plants.

  Stern walked around us, inspecting us critically. Threateningly he said, “I must insist that you behave yourselves outside. No fighting, understand? Be back here in eight hours. Follow me.” He turned abruptly and went out.

  “How come you guys are getting passes and we aren’t?” grumbled one of the crewmen. “Hey, bring something back for us.”

  I chose not to answer. Bell and Huster had already taken care of that. We reached the large entrance hall and took the lift down to where we had to pass a robot watch station. Stern was waiting for us.

  He had us fall in, then explained to us one more time how we were to behave. “I don’t want to hear any complain
ts,” he concluded. “Now be off with you.”

  We passed through the robot-guarded hatch without being stopped. I noticed at length that the machines’ identification sensors moved to point themselves directly at our ID plaques, which were clearly visible from a distance.

  Outside we were met by the noise of the sub-Arkonide city. Other Zalite crews streamed out of the surrounding barrack complexes. The first conversations could be heard. People were trying to orient themselves.

  We mixed unobtrusively in with the crowds. I noticed Rhodan’s seemingly frozen face and realized he was in contact with the mutant John Marshall, who had stayed behind. Even though Rhodan’s telepathic gifts were only weakly developed, he seemed able to communicate with Marshall without any difficulty. Of course, Marshall’s powers were much stronger.

  “OK,” Rhodan said, “everything’s ready in the building. Let’s get started. Ras, go ahead.”

  The tall African, now just as red-skinned as we were, looked around quickly. There were hardly any cars or other vehicles to be seen here. Only Arkonides were permitted the use of gliders. We were directed to the numerous transport bands, which were just as good for getting around. I even preferred them to vehicles, since the transport bands allowed us to move that much more inconspicuously.

  Ras gave us a wave. The march into uncertainty had begun.

  4/ BATTLE IN THE REACTOR HALL

  There could be no mistake about the meaning of the large signs. They were not covered with words as such but any relatively intelligent being would have known at once that the symbols painted on them meant: glaring red lightning bolts. On the far distant Earth, similar symbols had come into use with similar meaning.

  The sub-Arkonide city ended here. The last building reared up 100 meters behind us. Our position was now dangerous already. If anyone got the idea of asking what we were doing, standing so close to the seamless rock wall which reached to the vaulted ceiling, we would have been hard-pressed to explain.

  Rhodan and Bell had both vanished with the two mutants. Through rigorous training over the years, Ras Tschubai and Tako Kakuta had developed their abilities so that they could transport even large foreign objects. Their extrasensory power must have developed into something enormous.

  We pressed ourselves closer into the narrow niche formed by an air-conditioning pipeline making a right angle turn. One by one, we crept into safe teleporting range so that we would not strain the mutants. Each of them had four men in all to transport.

  Huster had drawn his beamer. Together with the two weapons specialists, he stood on one of the pipeline support columns and watched the area behind us.

  “Everything’s quiet, sir,” he reported in a low voice. “Actually, it’s too quiet. I don’t like it.”

  I could barely suppress a nervous laugh. With his remark Huster had hit the nail on the head. Why wasn’t the rock wall with its two clearly visible entrance hatches being watched? Why were the authorities content with the signs, which certainly were meaningful enough?

  I found no satisfactory solution and the feeling of threatening danger grew stronger.

  Directly in front of me the air began to shimmer. Kakuta’s slim body emerged from the luminosity until he stood in tangible form before me. I still found it hard to really grasp the astounding abilities of these people which enabled them solely through the power of their mutated brains to function as organic matter transmitters.

  Seconds later, Ras Tschubai arrived. He and Kakuta had become the two most important men in the operation.

  I pushed my gun back in my belt and asked quickly: “How are things over there? Everything alright?”

  “It’s just as it was during our reconnaissance spring, sir. There’s not a living being in sight. There aren’t even any robots.”

  Tschubai noticed the distrust shining in my eyes. He shrugged uncertainly. “It’s really so, sir. The Chief is waiting. Shall we go?”

  I stepped behind Tschubai and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Before I could ready myself any further for the improbable, I felt a sharp but bearable pain: the pain of dematerializing. It was a fifth-dimensional dissolution field, which this man could create just like any structural converter.

  I had no time to pay any attention to the short twinges in my limbs. It grew light once more and it was as if nothing had ever happened.

  “OK,” someone said, “now go back at once.”

  I looked around in confusion. My first move was to put my hand on my weapon. Then I heard the hollow roaring, much louder here behind the barrier.

  Bell stood watchfully behind the huge plastic-armoured base of a high-tension transformer. Close behind us howled the turbine of a cooling unit. Farther ahead, the first of the fusion reactors, set in rows, were to be seen. They were units of extremely modern design with directly connected thermal converters in which liberated heat energy was transformed into current.

  I was as familiar with the eye-hurting blue-white light of the uncountable energy conductors as I was with the deep rumbling of the converters.

  A shining artificial sun hung from the ceiling far above us. The roof was supported by more than 20 huge, massive columns of Arkon-steel in the vast chamber.

  “Fantastic, isn’t it?” Rhodan called to me. “The most advanced power plant I’ve ever seen. About two million kilowatts per reactor. Well installed, neatly arranged, equipped with excellent safety devices. Where does all this energy go?”

  Bell went to the first reactor, holding his impulse-beamer at ready. No one was to be seen, however.

  I looked up at the ceiling once more, where the energy field projectors had evidently been installed. The reddish shining screen stretched along the walls and stopped at the invisible poles of the ground. Behind the screen, the closed armored doors of the two entrances could be seen. The rock wall separating us from the underground city was probably about 100 meters thick. We would never have made it through without the help of the two teleporters. We had penetrated the solid matter with no problem as impulses of hyperenergy.

  Before I could say anything to Rhodan, the mutants reappeared. This time they brought Sgt. Huster and Tanaka Seiko with them.

  “Just in time, sir,” said Huster. “It was getting dangerous out there. A robot squad was coming—a routine patrol, I think.”

  We were silent until the last two men of our small group had been brought inside. They had not been discovered.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  I gave a start. Rhodan’s voice had sounded icy. Huster nodded.

  The microbomb, intended for the destruction of the power plant control room, was divided into six parts, and the men who wore them concealed on their person were now told to produce them.

  Huster did not pay any more attention to us. With unbelievable calmness he began the assembly of the ultra-thermal bomb, which would release its energy solely in the form of heat. It was based on a catalytic carbon cycle process, which would create an artificial sun in the machine hall.

  I had to consider once more the chaos that would ensue by the destruction of the Robot Regent. The mutants Seiko and Okura listened with their incomprehensible senses to things we could never perceive. I, on the other hand, weighed the question of whether we should risk detonating the bomb or not.

  Rhodan stared at me stonily. Almost without moving his lips, he said: “It has to be, my friend! Or do you want to tolerate the Regent’s rule even longer?”

  My smile was tortured. Of course he would think of the Earth first. I responded in a low voice. “We’ll be allowing all hell to break loose—not only here in these underground chambers but throughout the entire galaxy. When the Regent has been destroyed, I wouldn’t care to be the one who has to put the galaxy back together.”

  I realized that he had long been aware of my fears. It would have been surprising indeed if this intelligent man had not drawn the necessary conclusions.

  “It has to happen sooner or later. Your reason should tell you that the inevitable tu
rmoil that’ll break out is better now than waiting a few years and having to deal with it then. Now I can support you with Terra’s power. If we wait too long, you might have to face it alone.”

  I felt his hot breath in my face. “Power? Did you say power? Little Terran, you may be immortal, but you’ve never known real power. For that you lack a few centuries of constant development. Have you forgotten the blows you’ve already suffered these last few months? How do you propose to settle the chaos that will ensue? With your few big fighting ships?” I shook my head despondently. It suddenly seemed completely senseless to me to destroy the Regent.

  Not a muscle twitched in Rhodan’s face. “That will be your job, Arkonide! If you’ll protect the secret of Terra’s position, we’ll be your fire department. I can offer you something you don’t have: trained crews with the best of abilities. Is that nothing?”

  “It’s a great deal,” I admitted, “but not enough. Besides, as we used to say during the Middle Ages, we’re dividing the bearskin before we’ve caught the bear.”

  “I’ll be ready in 15 minutes, sir,” Sgt. Huster put in matter of factly. For him the matter was already settled. “Would you tell me where I’m going to set the bomb off?”

  He looked at me appraisingly. On his lips lay a small smile. Bell waved to me. He stood legs apart, in the wide connecting corridor between the reactors.

  “Well?” asked Rhodan.

  His power of decision frightened me. After a long look in his cold eyes, I turned away. Slowly I took hold of my thermobeamer and walked towards Bell. Rhodan followed.

  At that point Tanaka Seiko spoke up. “Sir, I’m picking up some odd vibrations. I have no idea what they are.

  I stopped. Rhodan turned hastily around. Directly in front of me rumbled the first reactor’s transformer bank. Huster did not allow himself to be disturbed. The microbomb, constructed on Earth and successfully tested on an uninhabited asteroid, was gradually taking shape.

  “What kind of vibrations, Tanaka?” Rhodan asked slowly. The mutant whose ability consisted of being able to perceive energy radiations, regardless of type and origin, like a mechanically built special receiver, moved his delicately fingered hands uncertainly.