The Cosmic Decoy Read online

  As nervous as he felt inside, this outbreak of laughter tended to put his mind at ease. The other dangerous looking brutes joined in the howling laughter of their chief. These people appeared to distinguish themselves by their capacity for boundless laughter.

  On the other hand it might also be a sign of anger. Tiffs face grew a little paler. The reactions of alien beings could be the exact reverse. At least that's what they'd been taught in the Space Academy.

  It took a few minutes before the man with the deeply lined face had calmed down again. Now Tiff made his second mistake by saying politely: "Anyway, I'm happy I'm not confronted by bug-eyed monsters with suction cups on the soles of their feet."

  The ensuing laughter shook the K7. Julian Tifflor resolved firmly not to provoke humor in these apparently excitable people.

  "He's precious!" the redhaired man groaned after a while. "We want to keep him. Tell me, mikoa, how come that you speak the trade language of the great archipelago?"

  Tiff was relieved to bear himself addressed as a 'mikoa'—friend. "You mean the Galaxy?" He inquired hesitantly. Deeply worried, he kept glancing at his unconscious comrades.

  "They'll soon wake up again," the stranger assured him jovially. "We're peaceful traders, not pirates. My name is Orlgans, Captain and owner of the commercial ship Orla XI. We like and respect the intelligent races of the great archipelago. We never interfere with their internal squabbles unless somebody dares to meddle with our trade monopoly. I apologize for the somewhat rough treatment I've meted out but nobody has come to grief. However I can't fail to mention that your Terranian Commander has tried to attack my ship and that I've escaped at the last moment."

  Tiff stopped wondering and was no longer afraid. Although he was only 20 years old he'd become a man with a cool mind. This wasn't really so surprising since he was one of the few carefully selected students at the Academy using the training methods of an ancient race to prepare them for a life of adventure.

  Tiff was circumspect and merely bided his time. All his former inferiority complexes were now completely suppressed. He sensed that the fate of Terra was at stake in this game, the home of mankind and his ideals. The welfare of the many people on Earth justified every sacrifice. Never before had Tiff felt so clearly that everybody born on Earth was simply human, regardless of the color of his skin or belief.

  This awareness turned the young man into an incisive tactician. Orlgans was dangerous! His joviality was a mask and his raucous laughter was a characteristic peculiarity of his race.

  Tiff no longer smiled politely. Some of the bearded men were busy in the Command Center dragging away his unconscious companions like weightless manikins.

  "I thank you for the rather humane treatment," Tiff said. "Be that as it may, Captain Orlgans, you've come exactly 10 seconds too late, in which time I've destroyed the container. You know about that, don't you?"

  Of course Orlgans was informed about it. For a moment a shadow crossed his wide face.

  "You're a good negotiating partner," he stated with a searching look. "Frank when you know your strength but secretive if you suspect your own weakness. Empires were built by clever men like that. Yes, I know about the message. Why do you think I've ambushed your ship?"

  It was on the tip of Tifflor's tongue to tell him how easy it would have been for them to blow the Orla XI to kingdom come with one salvo, but he refrained.

  "What do you intend to do now?" he asked tersely. "Where are we?"

  "Never mind that. By the way, I must compliment on your excellent knowledge of the intergalactic language."

  "Our battleships are even more excellent," Tiff replied bitingly.

  Orlgans' face became tense. Coldly he answered: "I've a Terranian on board my ship by the name of Jean-Pierre Mouselet. He has told us the whole story of how your backward world accidentally came into possession of one single battleship. Mind you, one lone battleship is all you've got. You are, or were, the carrier of a message which specially concerns my sphere of interest. Long term trading plans on a cosmic scale are no laughing matter for our people. We're peaceful, as I said before. However we reserve the right to defend our old privileges. Long ago the Great Imperium gave us full authority to act in any manner we see fit to maintain our monopoly. We're going to settle this with you, Julian Tifflor!"

  "You know my name?"

  "What do you take us for? Did you think you could deceive us?"

  Once again they roared with laughter. Tiff felt a little humiliated. As he never was initiated in Rhodan's master plan, he was firmly convinced that he served as bearer of very important news and he therefore accepted Orlgans' explanations as valid. Men like Deringhouse would have ridiculed it since the so called secret message was nothing but a ruse.

  Tiff was led away roughly but not unfriendly. Orlgans commented with a grin: "We belong to related breeds of man, Tifflor. We ought to get along. I don't see why this shouldn't be possible. You've probably never heard about my people. We, the Springers, are mightier than the Great Imperium itself. I'm constantly making agreements with radically different races. There's no reason why I can't do the same with you. I want you to know that my ancestors were Arkonides just like your tutor called Khrest."

  Tiff was shaken but didn't show it. This stranger knew really much, indeed much too much. And who was Jean Pierre Mouselet? Probably a Frenchman.

  Tifflor had never heard the name but he believed that Orlgans' detailed information could only be furnished by a man from Earth of great intellect who was well versed in scientific practices. It was the only explanation for Orlgans' knowledge.

  Tiff noticed in passing that the unconscious men of the crew had been taken to the mess hall of the auxiliary ship. All important stations were guarded by people who looked like Orlgans.

  When he reached the loading dock above the peripheral bulge he had to put on his spacesuit again. About 60 feet away he saw the curved hull of the foreign ship. The huge bodies of his captors floated across and Tiff noted that they were in free-fall. The double star was still too far away to necessitate a braking manoeuvre.

  Tiff was hauled over with a rope. When he entered the airlock he felt that his last hour had come.

  These Springers —as Orlgans called them—were extremely dangerous. It was clear that they felt menaced by the New Power under Perry Rhodan. Apparently they were afraid to lose their unrestricted trade monopoly. The only time they were likely to become vicious was when their sacred right was challenged.

  Perry Rhodan had probably done this unknowingly. Tiff could have bet his life that his Chief had no inkling of the Springers' existence.

  Orlgans patted Tiff in a fatherly fashion on the back as they went through the pressure equalizer.

  "Our air is fit to breathe for you," he said patronizingly. "How about telling us a few more of your delightful jokes?"

  "Jokes?" Tiff stammered. When did he make jokes? This was taken by the traders as just another funny remark. They were bowled over with wild hilarity.

  9/ "We Can Conquer The Earth!"

  The slender dark-haired man with the restless eyes and nervous fingers was positively an Earthling. The other bearded individuals were about three times as heavy as the man who was approximately 50 and had a twitching face. He appeared to be a nervous wreck on the way to a final breakdown.

  "Jean-Pierre Mouselet, former manager of a European industrial corporation," the emaciated man introduced himself. Tifflor simply stared at him icily.

  "Don't you have any cigarettes?" Mouselet begged, edging closer.

  "I don't smoke," Tiff replied tersely. "If I did, I'd gladly give you a whole pack."

  Mouselet acted surprised at this seemingly friendly gesture. But the gesture was anything but. Tiff made that perfectly clear with his next words. "I'd gladly give you a whole carton—it's fine by me if a traitor to Terra wants to ride the Cancer Express to his own funeral."

  Mouselet, a pathetic ruin of a man, couldn't bring himself to swear nor even manage a reproa
chful look. His flickering eyes mirrored such deep despair that Tiff almost began to feel a vague pity for him.

  "Please forgive me," Mouselet said hastily. "I smoke excessively and my last pack..."

  "Get to the point," the cadet interrupted impassively. "I presume that Orlgans has sent you to loosen my tongue. Let me assure you that there's nothing to pry loose from me. I wasn't informed about the contents of the message I've destroyed. Or do you believe that I could carry such complex plans in my head?"

  Mouselet's eyes looked suddenly piercing. "Why not? Rhodan is familiar with the method of implanting a tremendous amount of information in a person's brain. Perhaps you don't know yourself that you've been given a posthypnotic block. But such information can be retrieved easily. The microtapes could have been used as a ruse for you. You better start talking, young man. The Springers know very well how to make a helpless babbling lunatic out of a man. If this happens to you, you'll be insane for the rest of your life. It would be smarter to tell us why you were sent to your base on Vega."

  "Did they promise you cigarettes if you make me talk?" Tiff sneered, although he had turned pale. The situation was fraught with horrendous dangers.

  Mouselet now cursed viciously. Then he got up abruptly and began to pace the floor of the little cabin. Two Springers were posted outside the door.

  "Before I say anything, I'd like to know how you got mixed up with these characters," Tiff added quickly.

  Mouselet shrugged his shoulders. It was a gesture of resignation. "Why not? I was a member of the leading staff of the supermutants and I had at that time occasion to investigate the New Power thoroughly. All secret documents were made available to me. Don't try to delude the traders. They know exactly how Rhodan obtained his knowledge and his battleships. If it hadn't run counter to their ancient traditions, Orlgans would have subjugated the whole Earth."

  "Informer!" Tiff said contemptuously. Once more he suppressed the urge to tell him how easily Deringhouse could have demolished their spaceship.

  "Don't let these people fool you," Mouselet continued excitedly. "There was a time when I also believed them to be amiable and harmless. When Rhodan was pursuing the Supermutant, the latter sent an S.O.S. out into space. Orlgans happened to be in the vicinity. He came to my rescue. Of course I had to pay the price by telling him all I knew. A Springer does nothing for free. Are you sure that you've got no cigarettes? Look again!"

  "Take your hands off my pockets," Tiff snorted angrily. "If I were you, I'd put a bullet through my head. You're a traitor to Terra! You've committed treason against mankind. This is the worst of crimes."

  "Mankind has condemned and banished me," Mouselet said feebly. "I no longer owe allegiance to mankind."

  "You've probably committed heinous crimes and were justly sentenced under the law. Don't expect any sympathy from me. You're as guilty as the Supermutant who was stopped by us."

  Breathing heavily and wetting his lips with his tongue, Mouselet faced the cadet:

  "You'll be interrogated," he declared tonelessly. "You don't realize that you're dealing with one of the great powers in the universe. These interstellar traders are ruling the Galaxy. They're subdivided into castes and family clans. No Springer takes orders from another Springer. Freedom of trade is a 10,000 year-old tradition. They suspect and spy on each other but woe to the stranger who interferes with their monopoly! You'll be amazed how quickly the numerous clans and kinships rally together.

  "They call themselves Springers because they spring with their ships from planet to planet to buy and sell. Their commercial fleet is estimated to consist of more than 300,000 big vessels including many of the largest ships. In case of emergency every clan is headed by a patriarch who is assisted by all free captains and shipowners. The powerful organization of the traders maintains a huge battlefleet that is supported by contributions from the profits of each captain. The Springers own many planets where they've constructed gigantic docks and military bases. Their technology surpasses in some respects even that of the Great Imperium under the Arkonides. They're descendants of the old Arkonides but have developed many racial variations due to manifold environmental influences.

  "However they're all Springers, independent, proud, strong and richer than the Great Imperium. If the need arises they act as one. Do you understand what this means? As traders they never intervene in wars or other quarrels. They supply all parties and everybody is on the best terms with them. Concessions must be distributed by them alone to those who wish to do business on a cosmic scale. Now comes your Perry Rhodan with the ludicrous idea to set up trading bases in the Vega system. It's preposterous. He must be crazy!"

  Mouselet laughed shrilly. He had trouble keeping his composure. Tiffs attitude became more and more apprehensive. Slowly he began to understand the scope of the campaign he had embarked upon. Orlgans was only a tiny cog in a colossal ancient machine. Tiff considered it now his most urgent task to inform his Chief as quickly as possible.

  "You must realize that it's senseless for you to remain silent. It's only natural for such mercenary people to claim each newly discovered planet as their private domain. Nobody would dream of calling in his own clan, let alone other clans. This is the reason why Orlgans came alone to the solar system. He has created a net of spies in the proven manner and has thereby soon found out that you were sent out as a secret courier. This was to be expected after Orlgans captured one of your spaceships and two interceptors for the purpose of studying them."

  Tiff jumped up as if he'd been stung by a hornet. "What?"

  "Oh, you don't know about that," Mouselet wondered. "It's about time you find out that Rhodan has misled you. With your K7 four of your spaceships have vanished. That should have made Rhodan suspicious, don't you think?"

  Tiff slowly leaned back in his strangely shaped seat. Gradually it became clearer to him why the Chief had selected him under such mysterious circumstances as a secret messenger. Tiff came fairly close to the full truth but he was still unaware that he acted as a cosmic decoy with very special potentials. At any rate Rhodan already seemed to know about the threat from outer space. Now Tiff understood also why Deringhouse didn't shoot to kill and why Stardust II had so quickly appeared on the spot. He tried to suppress a triumphant smile.

  A yellow light started to blink from the videophone on the wall. It was almost identical with the sets on the K7. Mouselet looked anxiously around.

  "Your lord and master is calling you," Tiff said scornfully. "Naturally they're eavesdropping on us. Well, Orlgans, listen to me! You might as well know that I'm not impressed by your mercantile superpower. Racketeers and war profiteers who do business with both parties and never take sides until they get paid are notorious throughout history on Earth. You merchants of death are no better, only more proficient in your dirty business. You make money from the decline of the Great Imperium of the Arkonides and remain neutral until your interests are contested. Then you turn into a pack of howling wolves who band together to tear apart any undesirable outsiders who threaten your selfish interests. This traitor has informed you about Terra. Beware, Orlgans, or we'll show you the stuff we're made of!"

  Somebody snorted into the v'phone and then Orlgans' voice broke in: "You talk big, Vikoa, but you've little power. We can conquer the Earth but first I want to try single-handedly to exercise my prerogative of discovery. I want you to tell me what the cosmic planning of the New Power entails. Furthermore, I want to know what fortunes that little fellow Perry Rhodan has found in the legendary world of immortal life. I know the reports are true that he was there contrary to all expectations."

  Tiff replied with acid sarcasm. His words revealed unusual maturity for a 20 year-old youth. "This ought to prove to you that you're up against a superior intellect and if you consider yourself intelligent you'd do well to respect him. Your dictatorial demand is barbarian power politics."

  Mouselet looked horrified. After a silent pause a rob licking laughter came from the loudspeaker. That Springer c
aptain had a peculiar sense of humor! "Very good, very good," Orlgans repeated. "You couldn't have given me any better proof that Rhodan picked a very adroit man for this special mission. I'm going to be busy for a while getting into orbit, my friend. I'll wait here till the situation has cleared up. If necessary I won't hesitate to call in the battlefleet of our dynasty. Has Mouselet told you already that the free captains are empowered to summon an armada of battleships for our protection? One radio call is all it takes, Terkoa, to bring 500 first class battleships out of hyperspace. Think about it. You've got time to make up your mind."

  A sharp click in the videophone indicated that Orlgans actually switched off the set.

  "Don't ruin my life," Mouselet implored Tiff with a trembling voice. "Start talking or we'll both perish. Trust me, I'm a human being."

  "I doubt that you ever were one in the true sense of the word," Tiff rejected his plea. "I suppose you only looked like a human being ever since you started using your evil brain."

  The cabin door slid open and two bearded giants appeared. Tiff had learned that the numerous members of the crew all belonged to Orlgans' clan. The honor of captain and shipowner seemed to be hereditary.

  Meanwhile it had become quite clear to Tiff that he had fallen into the hands of the major power in the Galaxy. These people ruled not just a single solar system but the entire Galaxy which they manipulated for their special purposes by the methods of warring trading companies. Such companies used to exist on Earth too but they never attained such far-flung powers.

  Tiff began to suspect that the Springers presented the most blatant threat the New Power had had to face so far. These were no mind-usurpers or reptilian Topides who had been defeated with comparative ease by Perry Rhodan. Now a real superpower had appeared on the scene.

  However it eluded Tiff why Perry Rhodan had kept silent about all these problems. If some ships of the fleet had vanished without a trace the government must have been informed about it long ago.