Duel Under the Double Sun Page 7

  This enabled the Antis to concentrate their psi output and the mental intensity was immediately detectable to the sensitives among us. I myself was no telepath and I couldn't help the situation but I learned that the effect of this was a kind of mento-jamming. Pucky and John Marshall were not able to receive my thoughts under this outside influence. From their conversation I gathered that they could of course pick up isolated impulses here and there but that the pattern was insufficient for any interpretation.

  So it was that I was placed in greater danger by the so-called Baalols' instinct of self-preservation which had driven them to a hectic ally-increased level of psi activity. Pucky sat next to me on the chair-couch. At times he would stroke my forehead and he would look into my paralyzed eyes with such compassion and sorrow that I wondered if I could stand it. Tirelessly he repeated his questions, asking me what had actually happened.

  At the moment, neither Bell nor Mercant had time to worry about me. As Rhodan's Chief Deputy Administrator, Bell had taken command of the Terran Fleet. He had just switched to a new tactic and ordered his forces to bombard the impregnable barrier with two kinds of weapons simultaneously. Some of the super battleships had been armed with old-fashioned rocket launchers. We were aware of the fact that a defense screen supercharged mentally by the Baalol priests was practically impervious to energy weapons, if at all. However there were disadvantages to such a 'hardened' field structure when under attack by high-impact antimagnetic missiles.

  But the Antis even had some experience in this regard and were able to use a counter-tactic. Their normal screens could stop the conventional projectiles and their mentally-charged screens could stop the energy beams so they worked out a way of alternating the field structure at such rapid intervals that it was practically impossible to choose the right moment of application for either type of weapon.

  In spite of this, Bell had decided to use a simultaneous combination of attacks. The positronic calculators were put to work on the task of determining the pattern and frequency of the Antis' screen alternations. The frequency average turned out to be one millisecond! During alternate time-segments of this tight pattern a saturation blast of energy beams would be necessary and in the reverse intervals the long-range rockets would have to strike. This required a synchronization of major proportions. It was almost unfeasible but the positronics kept hammering at the problem.

  Since I had been following Bell's strategies attentively it had served to pass the time quickly. It also helped me not to think of Thomas Cardif's masquerade for the moment as the frustration of not being able to say anything was almost unbearable. But my mind raced as I made calculations of my own. If the shock-gun had not been set at an intensity higher than provided for in the standard security regulations, it meant that within about two hours I should regain my physical control. I was well aware of the pains that would accompany that moment but considered that to be a negligible factor.

  Much more important was the question as to whether or not Cardif would succeed in getting to me before that time. This was the only danger which of course he must also be aware of. It was true that Mercant had left orders to keep him in the ship's clinic until I could recover enough to talk but that was no guarantee for my safety.

  Added to this consideration was the other problem: how had this criminal managed to deceive the human race so effectively and for such a period of time? Without doubt, Rhodan's closest collaborators were mostly to blame. Probably they had failed entirely to consider the possibility that the wrong man had seized the position of authority. Yet there had been so many indications of the truth, so many reasons for suspecting Cardif. Nothing more should have been necessary! If they had only suspected him just once it would not have taken long to unmask the usurper.

  At the moment, where Cardif was concerned, everything depended upon his being able to get me out of the way. At this point in my deliberations, that which I feared most occurred. I could not see the security hatch open but I could not avoid hearing the resulting tumult, which was dominated by Cardif's voice.

  "I declare martial law!" he shouted at them. "You will all be court-martialled! Get out of my way! Mr. Mercant, you are hereby relieved of your command!"

  I could only see a part of the Control Central. Now I was lost! If Cardif was clever and fast enough he would surely be able to reach me-and I could not move a muscle! Bell tried to hold him back but to no avail. Discipline on board a Terran warship simply did not permit the officers and men to think in terms of resisting the Commander-in-Chief with open force. This would have been mutiny which was punishable by death. The Ironduke was in the midst of a military engagement, which meant that the crew was already under martial law.

  All Mercant could do was to try to outsmart Cardif.

  In the midst of this my extra-brain seemed to have a comment for him: You ought to use a shock-gun, fool!

  The voices came nearer. The colossal figure loomed into my range of vision. I strove desperately to regain control of my body but my paralyzed nerves did not respond.

  "Sir, you must consider what Atlan represents!" persisted Mercant excitedly. "Your action can cause war with the Arkonide Imperium, I will guarantee you that with absolute certainty! The minute the Imperator is incapacitated, the robot Regent will resume control. Sir-you have to listen to me..."

  Cardif shoved Mercant's slightly built figure out of the way. Then he was standing directly in front of me, his face more distorted by hate and fear than ever. Before Mercant could interfere again the traitor reached for his weapon, drawing it with surprising speed from his holster. I heard an outcry from everyone present-but then something happened that I wouldn't have believed.

  At least one of those present dared to show resistance to the Administrator. It was Pucky!

  The mouse-beaver was still sitting on the edge of my contour chair. The deadly raygun was torn from Cardif's hand and hurled against the steel ceiling.

  "I will not allow that!" exclaimed Pucky in a very hostile tone. "If you try it again I'll smash you!"

  Cardif staggered back as though to avoid him. His eyes were wide with astonishment and a new fear. Two other mutants of the Corps took up a stand in front of me. One was Ivan Goratschin, the twin-head, and the other was the psychokinetic expert Tama Yokida.

  The medium-sized Japanese mutant was very calm. "I think you can wait another 10 minutes, sir, can't you?" he asked.

  "It's open mutiny!" yelled Cardif, out of control now. "Claudrin, kill these men! Give me my weapon-no, give me yours!"

  Under the circumstances my desperation gave me unexpected strength. My stiffness began to subside. I let out, a croaking sound that immediately alerted Cardif. He acted quickly. Before the Terrans could grasp the situation he had fled from the Control Central. But he was smart enough to disguise his act of escape by making all sorts of threats as he went.

  Col. Claudrin even let out an audible gasp of relief when the presumed Administrator was out of sight.

  "We're lucky," said Goratschin's left head. The right head laughed. Pucky stroked my forehead with a delicate paw.

  I still wasn't able to move. The sounds that escaped my lips must have been unintelligible. Everyone was showing concern for me now but valuable time was flying without anyone doing anything about Cardif.

  It wasn't until 10 minutes after that that I felt the excruciating pains. My nervous system was reviving. Several men held me until I could finally manage to speak a few words. Everyone in the room heard me because my voice wasn't lacking in volume. "Arrest him, quickly, it's Thomas Cardif, arrest him! Mercant, he is not Rhodan, quickly...!"

  The Security Chief jumped as though he'd been shot.

  "Atlan, are you sure?" Bell yelled in my ear. He had turned as pale as a corpse.

  "Yes, it is Cardif, after him! 100% sure, full proof... Have to arrest..."

  It was then that they finally awoke from their great state of confusion. The full revelation seemed to strike them all at once. Now the presumed Rhod
an's abnormal actions were suddenly explained and they realized how blind they had been to allow their respect for the real Rhodan to be used to advantage by his son. They sprang to action. I had never seen men run so fast.

  By now I could move my hands and soon my arms and legs began to respond. But the accompanying pain was almost unbearable. My veins seemed to be filled with molten lead, saturated with a million tiny needles. I didn't try to conceal my condition with any heroic self-containment. But while I shouted I still managed to blurt out a word of explanation here and there. It took a number of minutes before I could get up but at that moment a report came through which I had been fearing. It was the airlock control center. A captain in charge there announced that the 'Chief' had taken off in a space-jet in order to start negotiations with the Antis. He said that Rhodan had just gone out the launch tube and that he was alone!

  While Bell raged I was inwardly relieved in one sense. This gave us the final proof. There was no further need for me to convince those who had been in any doubt. I stood on my uncertain legs in front of the form-couch, still somewhat ineffective for the moment, but among the Terrans it was Mercant who first grasped the full significance of the situation. "Quiet!" he shouted, and again: "Quiet, everybody!"

  I grinned at him ironically. "All you brave heroes!" I said, still stammering because of a heavy tongue. "Your minds are still in deep-freeze but they'd better thaw out quickly."

  Mercant instantly controlled himself. "Your orders, sir? Do you have an idea?"

  "Of course! Get another space-jet ready at once. The pilot will be Brazo Alkher. I know him. Pucky, will you go with me? Your psi capabilities will be almost useless on Trakarat but you may be able to trace Cardif's cell activator. Just before he went out of here did you hear a burst of loud laughter?"

  "Yes, what was it?"

  "It was a diabolical laugh. It sounded only in the subconscious. It came from the activator. You see, the synthetic entity on Wanderer knew all the time that this Rhodan was an impostor. Now do you understand what was behind Cardif's uncontrolled cell growth? Representing himself as Rhodan, he had asked for a life-prolonging activator-the same kind that was given to me long ago. And once again, It turned the whole thing into a cosmic game. It adjusted the device to Rhodan's individual frequencies, which were slightly different from Cardif's patterns-but the impostor realized it too late. Pucky, are you coming along?"

  "But you don't mean you're going to land on Trakarat?!" interposed Mercant in new alarm.

  "I am. Keep up the bombardment. When I give you the signal, threaten them with the nuclear destruction of their world. Also, demand the immediate release of Perry Rhodan, who is undoubtedly being held prisoner there. Everything points to it. From the Baalols' point of view there could be no place more suitable. They'd be most likely to bring their most important prisoners to their central world. But what the devil!-I can't just stand here answering questions. Get going! You've all been asleep long enough!"

  That woke them up. Within a few minutes we had agreed on the strategy. Code signals were established. I still refused to have a commando escort. Anyway, the mutants would not have been able to help. In the vicinity of the Anti city their faculties would be totally ineffective. It was astonishing enough as it was that the mouse-beaver had been able to disarm Cardif. Even at our distance from the source of the Anti psi disturbances he must have had to make a supreme effort.

  Tracking soon located the fugitive's space-jet but nobody fired at it. The ship's computer had beamed out the required clearance signal according to regulations. Moreover, the commanders of the other fleet units had not yet been briefed on the new situation. It was high time to take up the pursuit.

  The special items of equipment I had requisitioned were brought to me in a separate flight case. Alkher, Pucky and I got into our Arkonide combat suits. And Mercant finally gave me the weapon he had mentioned on Saos. It was a combination device which had been nicknamed 'persuader,' the reason for which was obvious. It was the only practical weapon against the paramental god-priests, even when they so strengthened their individual screens to the point where they could resist a shot from a major-caliber ship's gun. It was the first time I had seen a 'persuader'.

  By the time we came to the launching lock Cardif had already entered the planet's atmosphere. Actually he should have landed before this time. Why had he remained so long in outer space? The answer came to me almost too late. He had been forced to obtain permission to land. For me it was an advantage. It had served to reduce his large lead to a minimum.

  The launching thrust hit me hard. I needed a little time to recover from it. But I was depending on the injections they had given me to take effect soon.

  6/ THE BATTLE OF TRAKARAT

  Lt. Brazo Alkher was a master of his calling. He sat in tense concentration behind the modern control column with its multiple switches for varying jet pressure and speed. These space-jets were disc-shaped, having a diameter of 150 meters, with the control cupola located on top.

  We came into the atmosphere from a polar direction so that we could avoid the great rings around the equatorial region. The Terrans had already lost one pursuit squadron because its leader had inadvertently ploughed through the relatively dense material at high speed. The resulting heat of friction had been too much for the machines' light energy screens to absorb.

  Pucky sat behind us in the radar operator's chair. He was 'listening' to the unmistakable impulses of the cell activator. He had told me that the mental radiations were becoming louder. From all indications the device was altering its condition in a way that no one could see or comprehend.

  Outside we heard a rising whistle as our shock-screen began to repel the first molecules of the atmosphere. Alkher seemed about to convert our space-jet into a flaming comet but I had confidence in his skill. He knew what the repulsion fields could take. Finally we obtained another clear tracking contact. It meant that Cardif's ship was above the radar horizon.

  "Watch out for the equatorial rings!" I called out to Alkher.

  He only nodded. His course had been well calculated. Only a few thin streamers from the ring material came in contact with out shock-screen. As we plunged at a steeper angle toward the surface, Cardif's ship disappeared again beyond the planet's rim. Alkher leveled out the jet at an 80-km altitude, still heading for the capital city of the Antis, which still had to be some distance ahead. But we were already receiving the first tracking echoes from the settlement's defense screen.

  I made a sign to Alkher and at the same time leaned over to press the emergency button on his combat suit. An invisible screen of protective energy built up around him. Pucky followed my example. We had agreed that he would not give us any more reports unless his paranormal tracking told him we were on the wrong course. Apparently this was not the case. It was also unlikely that Cardif would head for anyplace other than the city, which so far had remained nameless. Therefore I dubbed it Antipolis.

  We were flying at four times the speed of sound and I noticed that Alkher had to keep compensating the jet vanes to hold us in our course. Our speed was slightly greater than the escape velocity of Trakarat. Without the constant engine corrections we would unquestionably have been carried out into space. The gravitational field couldn't quite hold us yet.

  Enshrouded by a white-hot aurora of superheated gases we shot across far steppes and broad forestlands. Trakarat was a beautiful world with a blue sky, a pleasant atmosphere and an abundant water supply. One could really live very pleasantly here.

  The only question was why the Baalols had refrained from completely colonizing the planet. Obviously their mentalities were of a different mold as far as colonizing in the normal sense was concerned. Our logicians had meanwhile come to the conclusion that Trakarat was being used exclusively as a central training ground for the many priests of the cult who were to be found on all worlds of the galaxy. Here seemed to be the master-coordinating center where all events were planned and administered.

 
; There was a shimmering of light on the horizon and we were soon flying toward the double sun which had just risen over Antipolis. It was an unusual star. I had never seen such a well-balanced binary system. The two suns were very close together, being hardly more than a few light-weeks apart. For this reason there was very little eccentricity in the orbits of the 16 planets encircling them. The glittering stars of the galactic core paled more and more as we penetrated the air canopy of the planet, which also brightened the light of day. The gravity had finally captured us and we were once more in the grip of an alien world but here lurked a multiplicity of perils.

  For a few seconds the engines howled at full power as Alkher used 2,500 mega-units of thrust. The inertial absorbers handled the centrifugal load very well. Pucky had given us a directional signal and now we were dropping lower at only twice the speed of sound. It could have been slightly faster or slower than that since nobody had yet taken the trouble to investigate the sound-propagation properties of Trakarat's atmosphere. It was enough for us to know that the air was quite breathable.

  Contrary to my agreement with Bell there was a sudden call from the Ironduke on the video band. Bell's face appeared on our spacecom screen.

  "Be careful," he said, just as simply and calmly as if he were sitting there with us. "One of our heavy missiles has broken through the defense screen. It has exploded in the city."

  "What was the size of the explosive head?" I asked in sudden concern.

  "Only 50 tons. But the heatwave must be considerable. The energy dome is wavering. We're going to come through now with some beam bombardment and you'll have to watch it because the terrain will fairly boil at the impact areas. No messages yet from the Antis. Do you have any instructions? How about a mass troop landing? The city has been blasted enough to where it's ripe for storming."