The Galactic Riddle Read online

  The Ferronian scientist had gone ahead meanwhile. He stopped in front of the first picture-screen. He searched in vain for the control buttons.

  "Leave everything alone!" Groll's voice sounded harsh and commanding. "Don't tamper with things you don't understand! You might cause untold trouble if you start messing around with instruments of an unknown super technology. Come along! We have no time to waste!"

  The Ferronian scientist could tear himself away only very reluctantly from the marvels of an incomprehensible past. For there was no doubt in his mind that this installation was far older than his own nations first attempts at space travel.

  "I'm certain this is what Rhodan has been looking for." Then he turned around. "You are right, Sergeant Let's go!"

  As soon as they again reached the cross-wall, now only recognizable by a very low threshold, the lights behind them went out. Once more the entire hall lay in darkness. Groll whipped out his flashlight and switched it on. The sudden darkness seemed oppressive.

  Barely 10 seconds after the lights had gone out, the wall that had separated the two sections of the huge room descended once more from the ceiling to the floor. It was slowly gliding down, shutting off the installation from the outside world.

  Without a word, the two men walked back the same way they had entered a while earlier. Far ahead they opening could see daylight in the form of a tiny oval opening. Soon they came out into the bright light of the Vega sun.

  Groll suddenly began to shiver. His warm overalls could not keep out the cold. He realized that this icy feeling which gripped his body was not due to any cold outside temperature. It seemed to him that he had killed a living being barely a few seconds ago, although the incident with the Topide must have happened more than half an hour earlier. Suddenly he was filled with doubt. Had he done the right thing? What if the Topide had been shipwrecked on this strange moon? He should have been entitled to any assistance they could have offered him according to the interstellar code.

  He quickly rejected these thoughts. After all, the Topide had died with a drawn weapon in his hand. Lossosher had walked a few steps over to the side and stopped in front of the pyramid. With half-closed eyes, straining to see, he stared at the inscription. The resemblance to the symbols that Rhodan had deciphered with the help of the positronic bran was quite obvious.

  "Here is your proof, Sergeant, that we are on the right track. We have discovered what we come to find. It's alright with me if we start at once and fly back to Ferrol."

  Groll did not reply. He could very well understand Lossosher's enthusiastic feelings. But why, he wondered, didn't he share his joy? He ought to have been so happy to have done something to please Rhodan.

  Let's wait and see, he thought to himself, what this inscription is all about. They had made snapshots and the instantly developed pictures were safely stashed inside Lossosher's pocket.

  Silently, the two returned to the waiting space fighter. The lock was exactly the way they left it. They climbed into the narrow cockpit. Ten seconds later the rocky landscape of the plateau fell away below them.

  "Look! Down there!" Lossosher suddenly called out in amazement. "Over there, near that rocky something glittering in the sun..." Now they were directly above it. They recognized the bent and twisted remnants of a tiny space vessel, a kind of lifeboat used to find a haven within this system by those unfortunate space travelers whose ship had been wrecked.

  "That means there was only one of them here on this moon," Groll said quietly. He continued thinking to himself: He was the last Topide in this system. And I have killed him.

  He pushed the joystick forward. The racy fighter plane shot up into the suddenly darkening sky.

  Darkness!

  Occasional whirlpools of glittering colors, flashing lights. Gnawing pains in all limbs. Endless falling into infinite space. Ghastly loneliness in eternity. Neither cold nor heat--total nothingness.

  Only one thing--consciousness, awareness!

  Time? It had lost any significance, had turned into absolute abstractness. Seconds... years... millions of years-

  Distance? It no longer existed. Miles... light-years... billions of light-years-

  And suddenly the present returned!

  Rhodan felt the growing pain leave him. The wide open eyes could see again. His feet felt firm ground underneath. He had a body once more.

  And he could hear again. Namely Bell's hoarse voice. "We made it! The vault! Perry, we are back in the crypt!"

  Now Rhodan could see it too.

  Through the wire fence of the well-known transmitter he recognized the underground hall on Thorta. Three of his four mutants were standing close to the entrance. Their faces showed an unmistakable expression of utter consternation.

  Unconsciously, Rhodan looked at his watch. They had spent four hours altogether in that mysterious machine hall. It had seemed like an eternity to him. He pushed-and the door of the transmitter sprang open. The African Ras Tschubai walked toward Perry Rhodan, who was the first to leave the wire cage.

  "Back so soon, sir?"

  Rhodan felt perplexed. "Soon? What is that supposed to mean, Ras?"

  "You were hardly gone, just five minutes, sir."

  Rhodan peered into the Africans eyes. He tried to hide his surprise. He said calmly: "Let's compare our watches, Ras."

  The teleporter glanced at his wristwatch. "Exactly 10:30 Terran standard time, sir."

  Rhodan slowly lifted his arm. He looked at his chronometer. Just what he had thought. The hands pointed to 14:25 o'clock.

  "You had hardly left when the robot reappeared. He teleported himself back to the base via matter transmitter and returned within three or four minutes with little Betty. He has hardly come back to the crypt again. Less than a minute."

  Meanwhile the others had stepped out of the matter transmitter. Only Khrest understood what Ras was talking about. What was wrong? What had happened to the time? They had lived physically through four hours-within less than five minutes.

  A whiff, a presentiment of eternity?

  Anne Sloane's scream rent the air. She had been the last person to leave the transmitter cage, just behind Marshall. Quite by accident she had looked up at the ceiling. And now she saw it.

  Whoever did not see it, could hear it.

  Up above, close to the ceiling, floated a small glowing sphere. Its diameter could not be more than four inches. It pulsated slowly and rhythmically. The regular contractions were accompanied by muffled hollow-sounding gong beats, identical to those heard in the machine hall they had just left.

  Rhodan whirled around when Anne's voice rang out. He saw the sphere and his body stiffened.

  The light?

  The message had spoken of a light they could not find until they returned. All right, they had returned now. This glowing sphere must be the light! But what was it all supposed to mean?

  "The sphere radiated as intensely as if it were a glowing ball of fire. Then, with infinite slowness, it began to sink lower. Rhodan knew instinctively that there must be some time limit to this phenomenon. The unknowns had so far adhered to the principle that the solution of a task must always be accomplished within a certain limited time.

  Bell's hair looked all disheveled. The glow of the radiant sphere was reflected from his red, bristling crewcut. For a moment his head seemed to be on fire. Rhodan glanced in fascination for an instant at this strange spectacle. Then he turned to Betty. "Can you hear any telepathic message? Marshall, how about you?"

  The two mutants shook their heads. The sphere remained mute.

  Khrest stared at the glowing sphere. "It consists of pure energy, no doubt. But I don't believe that it is existing in the here and now. It is glowing but it does not radiate any heat. Cold light."

  Bell was forced to step to the side. The sphere had continued to descend and had almost landed on his head. Still those muffled, mysterious gong beats! Every one without exception had their eyes glued to the strange ball of light. A new task to solve! I
t seemed to have brought along with it the horrors of the machine hall they had barely escaped.

  Rhodan addressed himself to Anne Sloane. "Can you stop the sphere or direct its course, Anne?"

  The young girl tried but her telekinetic powers deserted her. The sphere simply continued on its downward course, pulsating mysteriously, constantly issuing the soft, monotonous gong beats. They sounded like precious seconds falling into the ocean of eternity.

  Now the sphere was floating close to Bell's face. He no longer attempted to avoid it. His eyes were almost closed in order to be able to bear the mild glow. Now the glowing ball was barely eight inches away from his face. He felt no warmth. Instead he could see something.

  Perhaps it was the sphere's proximity that permitted him to see the dark, elongated object inside the ball. The object resembled a single cell as seen under an electron microscope-a transparent round mass with a dark spot at its center, no longer than two inches.

  Before Rhodan or anyone else could judge what Bell was about to do, the stocky redhead had already started to act. Throwing all caution aside, Bell resolutely stuck his hand inside the sphere, trying to grasp the dark object. He was convinced he had found the long awaited message.

  His thought processes were not devoid of logic. They had been promised the light. This sphere was condensed, cold light. At its center was a dark object which could only be a capsule. Containing the message. The next task.

  His deliberations were rudely interrupted. Hardly had his fingertips touched the periphery of the light ball when it gave off short, colorful flashes of lighting which disappeared in Bell's hand. Simultaneously, Rhodan noticed this with consternation and amazement, Bell's hair began to shine brightly. His stiff bristles stood on edge, changing into a polar light display.

  Bell's horrified screams led the others to believe that he did not particularly appreciate such use of his head of hair. With a sharp jerky movement he withdrew his hand from the fiery ball then started to dance around the vault like a wild Indian, all the while shaking his arms, trying to get rid of all electrical currents coursing through his body.

  In the meantime the sphere continually sank lower and lower. Now it hovered barely five feet above the ground. What a catastrophe, thought Rhodan, if it reaches the floor. Who knows what calamity might befall us! At best, the sphere will simply vanish into the ground and be lost forever. And with it, the dark capsule, which he had also seen meanwhile, and which Reg had tried to retrieve in vain.

  Now Betty Toufry took over from Anne Sloane who had endeavored to stop the sphere's steady descent by means of telekinesis. Little Betty concentrated her efforts on the capsule. She assumed that it was staying in present time and in three-dimensional space. Unfortunately, it soon became evident that little Betty's efforts also were unsuccessful. Nothing seemed capable of stemming the ball's unflagging downward progress. Bell had calmed down somewhat. Now he regarded the light-ball like a personal enemy.

  "It scared the hell out of me," he confided. "At first it had seemed rather friendly and peaceful."

  Rhodan looked at him with growing interest "What do you mean by that? Peaceful?"

  "Yes, Perry. Peaceful. The electrical jolts did not come until later. In the beginning a very gentle current flowed from the sphere into my fingers, coursed through my body and then, returned to the sphere. That's when the fireworks started! It did not hurt too much. I could have gotten used to it in time."

  Rhodan's eyes followed pensively the descending ball that was now barely three feet above the floor. "Sounds almost as if the ball was examining you. Maybe it did not like what it found!"

  "Maybe you will pass this inspection Perry. It might grow fond of you." Bell sounded annoyed but soon his sarcasm gave way to a more rational approach. He glanced at his friend, then to the sphere, finally fixed his eyes on Rhodan. "If we both think the same, then it's high time you started to act..."

  Rhodan briefly nodded his assent.

  The risk could not be too great, for Reg had survived the contact with the fiery sphere. The unknowns who had sent them this ball of cold light were not malicious after all. They just had a strange sense of humor. Though they played dangerous games with the lives of their potential successors, they never presented a direct and inescapable threat to their survival.

  If Bell had come through this ordeal unscathed, without any harmful aftereffects, then he himself should not fare any worse. Particularly since he had been forewarned. On the other hand, there was Bell's description of the probing electrical fingers. That was a definite clue he ought not overlook. Who knew, Reg might have been right in guessing that he lacked the proper thought structure.

  The sphere hovered one foot above the floor. Rhodan bent over and resolutely reached into the light-ball. At once he felt the gentle rippling of the weak currents of energy that flooded through his body. But were no flashes of lightning. Bell noticed this with a mixture of annoyance and gratification.

  The light was indeed cold, stated Rhodan. The initial ripples soon ceased; no feeling, no sensation of any electrical currents remained. But his fingertips encountered something hard and substantial. The capsule was undoubtedly of a three-dimensional nature.

  Rhodan grasped it easily between his thumb and index finger. It felt cold to the touch, but not too cold. Gently he pulled it out from inside the sphere. It was a metal capsule, two inches long and half an inch thick. One side was covered by a lid. Inside this capsule, however, Rhodan felt positive he would find the message of the light.

  He breathed deeply and stepped aside. Now that he held the capsule in his hands, his calmness and poise returned. And his analytical mind as well.

  "We'd better leave the vault now," he said to his group. "Let's watch from the entrance what will happen to the sphere once it reaches the floor."

  The gong beats had ceased. This was the only noticeable change. The sphere was still glowing brightly, sinking steadily, finally touching the smooth rocky ground of the vault. Meanwhile, Rhodan and his friends had retreated to the entrance of the huge subterranean hall. They were watching, observing, full of suspense, anxiously awaiting the next events.

  The sphere touched the ground-and sank down into it. As if there were nothing obstructing its path, it kept steadily penetrating the solid rock. Now it could be seen, a glowing hemisphere resting on the stone, growing smaller and smaller. just like the setting sun dipping and disappearing into the ocean. Finally the last glow vanished. The sphere was gone.

  "Fantastic!" Khrest exclaimed; he was obviously most impressed by the spectacle he had just witnessed. "It has returned into its own dimension. If you had not pulled out this capsule, it would have disappeared now together with the light-ball."

  "Yes, Khrest. And with it the solution of the Galactic Riddle-or at least, a part of the puzzle that we are supposed to figure out."

  "You mean there is more to come? More problems?" Rhodan shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps we will get an answer to that from the positronic brain. Let's go!"

  As the group was leaving the vault, Rhodan switched off the generator that had maintained the vault within present time. The machine's soft hum died down. The matter transmitter and metal boxes vanished as if they had never existed.

  Nothing remained but the empty, deserted underground crypt.

  7/ MENTAL GIANTS

  The gigantic spacesphere Stardust looked almost tiny as it rested below the iridescent dome of energy. The Arkonide battleship had a diameter of over 800 yards. Inside its giant hangars it harbored among many other things two entire squadrons of the faster-than-light space fighters. A crew of 300 manned the monstrous structure whose control center represented a miracle of nonhuman technology. Perry Rhodan and Reginald Bell understood this technology only thanks to the Arkonide hypno-training. Within a few days they had been schooled in the age-old wisdom and knowledge that was the exclusive heritage of the ruling race of the universe.

  Rhodan still marveled at the ship's propulsion drive that permitted the
Stardust to jump across distances of many light-years during the course of a few moments. Yet he was even more impressed by the mighty positronic brain. In it he saw the crowning achievement of the Arkonides' inventive genius. The memory banks of the positronic brain held the entire body of knowledge that the superior Arkonide intellect had accumulated. But whereas the Arkonide race underwent a process of degeneration, the brain could never fall victim to this gradual decay. On the contrary, the creation had already far surpassed its creators.

  This fact was the only potential danger it might represent.

  Perry Rhodan knew that the, positronic brain's intricate installations were hidden behind the heavy walls of Arkonite, a metal alloy capable of lasting for millions of years. Rhodan had never seen the interior of the brain. He was familiar only with the exterior mechanisms of switches and keyboards. The face of the highest intellect of the universe consisted of an array of levers, buttons, switches, dials and loudspeakers.

  It had been easy for Rhodan to open the capsule he had taken from the glowing sphere. Inside he found a rolled-up sheaf made of some unknown material. It was covered with symbols that were illuminated from within. Some of these symbols looked familiar but most were strange and mysterious.

  The positronic brain had been working for over five hours already trying to decipher the cryptic inscription. Hours full of waiting, hope and nerve-racking despair. Finally the answer came. It was most disappointing.

  "The message is encoded. It is being passed on to a special section. It will take an indefinite number of days before any result can be expected."

  Khrest, Thora and Bell had just entered the center and heard the mechanical voice of the brain as it communicated its provisional findings.

  "Damn it!" Bell growled. "No solution just another mystery."

  Thora's reaction to the answer was a furious outbreak. "Perry, as far as I am concerned, the planet of eternal life does not exist at all! We are chasing a trail that was a reality thousands of years ago. Today it leads us merely a merry chase that endangers our lives. And if indeed an immortal race does exist, we could find it much easier with more conventional means."