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  All had been in vain; the expedition, the alliance with humans and many other efforts. It rejected the Arkonides as losers. It was intransigent and uncompromising.

  "What do you have in mind, my friend?" the voice inquired calmly.

  "Help for my injured technician first of all!"

  "The cure is on the way. The poison will be extracted from the body. And you, my friend, you wish to take over the Arkonide Imperium? You'd like to rebuild it, restore order and pacify it, wouldn't you?"

  "You know my innermost thoughts," Rhodan admitted with a sigh.

  "Many have aspired to it before you. Most of them have already failed at my second task; they are always the same. I've seen highly civilized cultures come and go. I've guided some of them till I lost interest. Perhaps I have a need for diversion. There was another race before the Arkonides, and another one prior to that. I've taken a good look at your world, Perry Rhodan. I'm willing to give you and people like you the same chance the Arkonides had. It is only a moment for me, then I'll have to wait again for someone who can grasp the meaning of the clues I scatter all over, someone to devote himself to their pursuit. I thank you for the amusing game, my friend. You've given a splendid account of yourself. Go to work now! I won't assist you nor will I oppose you. Enter the physiotron. The technical aids of my artificial world will be at your disposal. However, you'll have to find out for yourself what you can accomplish with them. Are we agreed?"

  "It's a deal!" Rhodan exclaimed.

  It laughed once again, this time its laugh tinged with melancholy. The soft voice concluded, slowly fading away:

  "You expect immortality to be something great and beautiful? All organic beings harbor this thought, only to experience a sad disappointment. The last escape is dematerialisation. One day you'll be glad to free your mind from its confining body. But there is plenty of time for you, at least in your own terms. Good luck, old friend! I've played with you the most thrilling game since I gave up my material existence. I'll continue to observe you. Good luck!"

  "The spiral of light was gone and the vast hall was empty again."

  Before the spectators could say anything, a man appeared from nowhere.

  "I've been assigned to you," the new arrival said matter-of-factly. "Please, choose a name for me!"

  "Who are you?" Rhodan asked with dry lips. The stranger, who looked like a human being, smiled.

  "I've been created for you, sir, hence my human form."

  "Are you a robot?"

  "In a manner of speaking, yes, but not a machine in the ordinary sense. My brain is a half organic and half intotronic blend."

  "Intotronic?" Rhodan echoed.

  "Six-dimensional, sir. Would you care to enter the physiotron now?"

  "Why? What is it?"

  "A cell spray, sir. You've probably assumed that the biological conservation is effected by injection or radiation, but this would be erroneous. May I explain to you that you'll receive a conservation charge for each cell unit lasting exactly 62 years on your time scale. Subsequently, it will be followed by instantaneous decay unless you return here before the expiration of the allotted period in order to receive a renewed dose."

  "Every 62 years?" Rhodan muttered. His mind was gradually becoming confused.

  "Yes, sir. I must advise you, however, that you'll always have to find this planet yourself when you desire it. I'll be at your disposal anytime together with all the means extant here but you'll have to come to me. Would you please enter now? Time is getting short."

  The portent of the last remark was only much later understood by Rhodan.

  • • •

  It was a short but intense pain, compared to which a great transition felt harmless.

  Rhodan's body was transformed into a nebulous thin cloud inside the heavy metal column. It lasted more than an hour, Bell later claimed.

  The strange robot stood motionlessly at the controls of a machine which defied understanding by the average human mind.

  Rhodan's dematerialised substance was exposed to the internal force fields. One could only imagine the complicated process involved in the treatment, but it eluded real comprehension.

  If it had any intent to do so, it could easily set itself up as ruler of the Galaxy.

  However, it no longer entertained such an idea. Maybe it had earlier been tempted by this ambition. Now, it merely played a role in the background. Its demands were modest.

  Whoever succeeded in passing the devised tests, was rewarded with a chance for a period of 20,000 years. It was a reasonable chance but it all depended on how it was used.

  After the procedure Rhodan awoke in the same state of fatigue in which he had stepped into the machine. Silently, he dressed again.

  He cast a searching and somewhat suspicious glance at the humanoid attending him.

  "Was this a rejuvenation?" Rhodan asked dubiously. "It felt more like a hypertransition."

  "It wasn't supposed to rejuvenate you, sir," he replied. "I had instructions to conserve you in your present state. From now on you'll age no more. You'll remain at the phase you've reached at the moment."

  "This I'll have to see! How is the injured man getting along?"

  "He's well again. We apologize. May I ask you to come to the programmer? All aggregates on this planet will have to be tuned to your individual vibrations. Your time is running out, sir. By the way, you may designate any other person you wish to undergo a cell conservation. You have the power to use all the equipment on this planet as you choose. Do you have any special requests?"

  Rhodan's eyes swept over the suddenly tense faces of his companions. With a bitter feeling he noticed their inordinate desire.

  Of course, it was the natural expression of a deeply ingrained striving. Who would have refused a cell conservation!

  Rhodan realized at this moment that he would always retain the loyalty of his companions. Only he could grant them access to the physiotron.

  "Bell, get in!" Rhodan said gruffly. Then he left the hall following behind the human robot.

  • • •

  As Stardust II prepared for hypertransition, the erstaz sun, a true replica of a natural star, faded away far behind the rocket's flaming exhausts.

  The planet Wanderer diminished in the distance.

  The shock of transition struck like a physical blow. When the battleship emerged once more in normal space, Vega was burning brightly before it, a familiar celestial beacon.

  Rhodan glanced briefly at the observation screen. Vega was quiescent again; no trace of a developing nova could be detected in the great star. It had kept its promise: Vega, which had been forced into an eruptive state in the course of one of the Immortal's manifold tasks, was once again internally stabilized. It was useless to speculate about the incredible fact; their brains were not of an order advanced enough to comprehend the complex superscience necessary to control the energies of a sun.

  Rhodan was exhausted from the recent ordeal. "A short stop-over on Ferrol," he ordered, then transferred command to Maj. Nyssen. The pilots of the Arkonide fighter crafts saluted their commander. Khrest and Thora had already silently retired to their cabins.

  To himself Perry added, "I wonder why the mentanical was in such a hurry?" But the humanoid servant of it had remained on far distant Wanderer and its six-dimensional brain was not about to satisfy Perry's intellectual curiosity.

  Alone, Rhodan reflected. The recognition the Immortal had granted him left him awestruck with its implications. With that single supramundane act a new era had been initiated. Phase I of the Space Age had ended and Phase II had begun. Soon all mankind would begin to think and operate not in national, global or even interplanetary terms but in stellar; interstellar terms.

  All the universe beckoned.

  THE IMMORTAL UNKNOWN

  Copyright © Ace Books 1972,

  Ace Publishing Corporation.

  All Rights Reserved.

  THE SHIP OF THINGS TO COME

  It, the Unknown immo
rtal, had permitted itself to be seen at last. And the ancient spiritual being composed of myriads of one-time living physical entities had made an emotionless decision, a decision which spelled elation for Perry Rhodan and Reginald Bell, despair for Khrest and Thora. For only the two earthmen, as representatives of a young and vigorous race, were found worthy of cell conservation; for the decadent Arkonides, their day was done.

  And the other members of the human family? Are they mature enough to rule the stars?

  The next Perry Rhodan adventure gives the answer. It is—

  VENUS IN DANGER!