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  Rhodan interrupted again. "During those two hours you will keep the Gazelle on standby for emergency takeoff. I repeat: put on your suits! We are anticipating attacks from outer space. That is all!"

  "Attacks from outer space...?" echoed Benthuys. But he only shrugged a moment later. "However, that's not my concern. Just now I have to counterfeit some register data. Will you advise me if this imminent difficulty involves our own location, Marshall? Until then, I don't want to be disturbed—and if I'm going to keep all my peanuts salted (keep all my marbles together), get out of here with that portable panic box!"

  • • •

  Once again the Arkonide admiral, Atlan, was forced to marvel at this Terranian, Perry Rhodan. But Bell didn't find anything unusual about Perry's present manner of handling the situation. In his place he would have done the same.

  "Sweat it out!" Rhodan had just decided. "We'll wait and we'll be prepared. There's nothing more we can do at the moment. In two hours Marshall's team will wrap up their work at the polar tracking station. Fellmer Lloyd is cracking the whip on a similar effort in Kerh-Onf and he also hopes to be done in two hours. Either he'll destroy the whole batch of records there or re-edit what he has to. Admiral, that laugh of yours means you don't approve of something?"

  Atlan was not aware of having laughed. "Who, me? If I laughed, it may have been at your childish simplicity. Do you really think you can fool Arkon with clumsy falsifications? Has it ever occurred to you at all what means the Greater Empire has at its disposal for testing the authenticity of documents or electronically registered data? You are and will ever remain a..."

  The red-haired Deputy Administrator, Bell, stopped the Arkonide with a broad grin that contained a hint of malice. Atlan did not make the mistake of underestimating this Terranian. These humans often came up with flashes of wit or insight which were quite miraculous.

  "My fat friend," Atlan retorted grumpily, "that malicious grin of yours is soon going to disappear." When Bell made no move to comment, he added: "Have you forgotten your thumb?"

  Normally impulsive, this time Bell refused to be lured from his self-imposed reserve. He continued to grin but maintained his silence.

  When Atlan saw that even Rhodan wasn't going to say anything, he asked in some wonderment. "What's the matter with you two, anyway?"

  "I'm sorry for you, Admiral," Bell finally responded. "Even, though you're supposed to have spent the last 10,000 years among us humans, you're still living in a bat belfry. Arkonide, your so-called Greater Imperium is a festering witch's brew of mixed races and interests which are only being homogenized at present by the Druuf danger..."

  "Any skonhead could come up with that kind of reasoning!" Atlan broke in roughly. "So what connection does that have with your not very intelligent grin?"

  "You're right," replied Bell, parrying deftly now. "It's hard to leer intelligently. Your trouble is that you think Arkon is and always will be the bellybutton of the Cosmos. According to your own ingrained convictions, we Terranians haven't got a chance of throwing a red herring at the robot Brain. I don't care if I cut my thumb again for the next ten New Years—do you want to lay a bet, Atlan, that we don't do in that overgrown laundromat like he's never been done in before? To lie or deceive is easy—anybody can do that. But it's stupid to lie, just as to cheat or defraud. Technically speaking, my dear Admiral, we don't intend to do either the one or the other, this is a slightly different piece of music we're playing. All we're trying to do is keep Arkonide spaceships from using good old Earth for target practice. So everything on this lizard planet here is going to be left just as it was— with the teensy difference, however, that their records, in whatever form, are finally going to definitely advertise what Arkon has been panting so long to discover—the actual location of the Earth: to wit, at the other end of the galaxy, 2,000 light-years inside one of the spiral arms. That's where we're tucking away the Earth, and your super-colossal Clatter Brain can look for it there until he blows his diodes..."

  The Com. Room interrupted Bell's monologue. From the inner side of the interference zone, Joe Pasgin was speaking from the Burma. "Sir, I've received a message from a courier ship that three large fleet units of the Galactic Traders have been trying for hours to make radio contact with Topid. One of their cylindrical ships has hailed the Arkonide station G-98765-0 in the meantime and hounded them to do something, once and for all, about the strange interference they're running into. Station G-98765-0 is 38 light-years away from this system in the direction of Bellatrix.

  "For over 20 minutes that station swamped our entire receiving setup outside the zone on more than 100 hyper-frequencies. So far there have been no breakthroughs but since the Arkonide station has told the Galactic Traders they don't find the slightest interference, two of the clan Beets have decided to fly to Topid. They are approaching at 0.8 light-speed and will reach the interference zone within 40 minutes. Sir, are there any instructions?"

  "Let them fly through Pasgin. Just make sure none of our ships are discovered. Anything else?"

  The conversation with the Burma was at an end. Somebody else was waiting on the telecom for Rhodan to be free.

  Kitai Ishibashi, the hypno-telepath, was reporting from Din-Kop, the second largest city on Topid. It lay on the Sea of Gun-Ki, the largest land-locked ocean on the planet, and was also the industrial center of the whole binary system.

  The voice of the Japanese mutant rang from the speaker. "Sir, we have just picked up a local radio dispatch—that is, from within the system. Three communications techniques are not only alert to the interference phenomena but are also getting some hunches that are close to the truth. They keep talking about their communications being 'isolated'..."

  "Is that all, Ishibashi?" Rhodan broke in.

  "No sir..." This was accompanied by a deep sigh. "We won't be ready in an hour. Tama Yokida and his companions have been at the spaceport here and have found more than 30 fighter ships that were used during the war in the Vega sector. None of them are flight worthy now but they haven't been salvaged either! More precisely, there are 32 ships with 32..."

  "But Ras Tschubai is with you, isn't he, Ishibashi?" asked Rhodan briskly. He had instantly perceived the danger that this news presented. With such a small team at Din-Kop the Japanese hypno-telepath couldn't possibly 'work' all the positronic data banks on board the derelict fighters and falsify the Vega System

  astro-coordinates.

  "Yes sir—Tschubai is here..."

  "I'm also going to send Pucky to you. He'll be there in five minutes. I want Tschubai and Pucky to destroy all the shipboard positronics in that old ghost fleet. And you, Ishibashi, must make sure that your team doesn't overlook one ship that was active in that period of time. You know the threat they represent for us..."

  "You can depend on us."

  "Hold your receiver open. I'm just now calling the mouse-beaver."

  The latter was the only member of John Marshall's Mutant Corps who could take the liberty of teleporting directly into Rhodan's cabin.

  When he materialized, ready for action, he stood as tall and straight as he could in his magnificent little uniform, which had been elegantly tailor-made for him. "Boss," he chirped, "I've got it all. Will you give me a free hand?"

  Pucky liked nothing better than to play! Some men had referred to his playfulness as a sheer rage to destroy but there were many more men who in a time of distress had prayed for Pucky to show up. As a telepath, a teleporter and an expert in telekinesis, he was the mutant with the greatest repertoire of psi faculties. Moreover, it kept him stouthearted to know that nobody could possibly wish for a better partner than the mouse-beaver.

  "What do you mean?" asked Rhodan. "You want me to give you a free hand, Lt. Puck, even though you again disobeyed my explicit orders against reading my mind?"

  When the 'y' was dropped from his name, it always meant trouble. But today Lt. Pucky seemed to take the threat lightly. He continued to grin with his single incisor. "Chief, we're
all, on pins and noodles for time around here and I have to get going! Do you like my new boots? You, too, Fatso. Electrically heated. So here's one that's not going to have cold feet! OK—then free hand it is—so long!"

  Once more the air shimmered and as mouse-beaver Pucky vanished from Rhodan's cabin he was teleported more than 7,000 miles, appearing suddenly beside Kitai Ishibashi. Whereupon he chirped to the tall, lean mutant, "Hey, Kitai, you can turn off that receiver now. Where am I? Shucks—what am I saying? I'll just tune in on your thoughts."

  • • •

  The last evidence of Pucky's presence was the shimmering of the air where he had been but even that seemed to attenuate like thinning smoke that softly dissipated in all directions, finally to vanish entirely.

  Reginald Bell got up, an action which served to emphasize his stocky figure. "So what do we make of the red alert signal from outer space, about Arkon battleships on approach flight to the Topid system 2 Our boys aren't just seeing things, I hope..."

  Over an hour before a message had also come in with high alarm coding, to the effect that three enemy spaceships were sighted, only to be down-coded 30 minutes later with the explanation that the reported objects were probably asteroids containing a high percentage of iron. Yet no one yet had become completely certain of what had been picked up by the tracking instruments.

  "Our men out there are overloaded," Rhodan answered, protectively. "Their nerves are at very high tension." On his finely chiseled features was the shadow of another concern as he turned to Atlan. "Arkonide, do you still have fears that the Brain could see through our manipulation of the Vega records?"

  "Yes. Hasn't the bad news from Kitai Ishibashi proved to you how easy it is to overlook extremely important items, using these brute force tactics of yours? The present action had already attracted attention. So one more oversight like that and one of these days you'll see Earth surrounded by the space fleets of Arkon."

  "Admiral, no one has ever won without a gamble. Of course the Brain will find out we've attempted to wriggle the records but he may well take our falsifications for the items we've overlooked. If that works, then this desperate mission to Topid will have succeeded. The only thing that will be left for the robot Regent is to search for the Earth on the opposite rim of the galaxy. As for those Topides who held responsible positions during the Vega War, that's been taken care of because these sections of memory have been erased from their minds. That is, although they may recall a certain battle with somebody named Rhodan, back 70 years ago, the scene of their recollection will be shifted to the rim of the galaxy."

  The intercom speaker blared forth in Rhodan's cabin: "Sir, our fleet reports space-warp disturbances! An Arkon fleet is on its way to the Topide System. Projected arrival in 35 to 40 minutes! Estimated strength of fleet formation, 1000 to 1500 fighting ships of all classes!"

  Bell stared at the loudspeaker as though at the enemy itself. "My aching thumb...!" he murmured.

  Atlan was about to say something but didn't get the chance as Rhodan switched contacts and calmly spoke into the microphone: "Alert to all units! Alert to all units! Pull back our ships. Avoid hostile action or contact..." On another channel he said quickly: "Call Pasgin and request more precise details!"

  Due to the fever of emergency, the Com Central of the Kublai Khan failed to cut the connection for a few seconds. The three men in the cabin caught a portion of the furore going on there. "Yea gods! Half the galaxy is in an uproar! Hello Burma, hello Burma, come in, please—on the double! Get back on the air, will you?!... Must be half a thousand hypercom dispatches jamming the bands!... And the Topides are onto something!... No, that's more than just 1,000 Arkon battle spacers! Never heard such a mess of radio traffic in my life...

  It was only then that the connection to the Com Central cut off. What the three men had heard filled them with grave foreboding but none of them said anything. They left the cabin in silence.

  When they entered the huge Control Central of the Kublai Khan, the final preparations for takeoff had already been taken care of. In every situation Perry Rhodan could rely on the men of his Solar Fleet. The mile-high spherical shell of the ship was filled with the rumble and roar of activity and the raging thunder of vast machinery.

  A concise message came in from John Marshall, who was still with his team at the polar tracking station. "Chief, we still need another 10 minutes. Your OK, please!"

  "Agreed, Marshall, if you're here 5 minutes after that!"

  Atlan was about to rear up and protest against this decision but then he felt Bell's hand on his arm. The redheaded Earthman looked at him so forcefully that he desisted. However, he could not suppress an exclamation: "These crazy Terranian savages!"

  Joe Pasgin's awaited report came in from the Burma. "Sir, we're the last ship holding our position here, under strongest possible tracking shield. Approaching Arkon fleet at least 2,000 ships strong. Will attempt blockade of entire Topide System. So far, 130 super battleships identified. Number of heavy cruisers, between 500 and 600! We still have an open flight channel in green sector, degrees 67 to 85. However, even there... Sir, we have to make a transition jump— there's a mass attack on our..."

  With one last crackle over the telecom the hyper-frequency connection between the Burma and the Kublai Khan was broken.

  In its place came an emergency call from Kerh-Onf. In an attempt to leave the building, the 20-man team from the archives was being blocked by Topides.

  From Din-Kop over 7000 miles away, Kitai Ishibashi reported: "Starting return flight. Only ones missing are the two teleporters, Ras Tschubai and Pucky. They will follow!"

  A swift announcement came from Lt. von Gilberg, in charge of the ship's sensor-tracking section: "Topide fighter formation approaching at yellow 43, 18 ships..."

  Rhodan was already on another internal channel. "Central Fire Control Warning shots—force the Topides to veer off! Warning only—no direct hits!"

  From his co-pilot seat Bell made contact with the tele-transmitter station. "Is the FTM ready on standby?"

  "Yes sir!"

  "OK, then keep your ears open because you're soon going to have more to do than you can handle!"

  Atlan practically had to regard himself as a mere onlooker. "These savages!" he repeated several more times half aloud to himself. "These crazy Terranians..." He could only watch in amazement. Here they had an Arkon fleet of 2,000 ships thundering down out of space at them and these men who but a few moments of Eternity before had been in the Stone Age acted as if they could wipe out a 2,000 to one superiority or even be tricky enough to escape at all!

  He couldn't help asking Bell, "Chubby, don't you feel any more pain in that thumb?"

  A salvo from the thermal gun-turrets of the Kublai Khan blasted toward the approaching Topide fleet in a thundering concentration of warning shots that vaporized the planet's atmosphere in their wake. The super battleship hardly trembled from the recoil and after a short pause it fired two more salvos.

  On the great panob gallery screens of the Kublai Khan they could already make out the Topide spaceships as glittering points of light. During the Vega War these types of ships had demonstrated their lack of speed and manoeuvrability, which was also evident now.

  "Sir, all Topide defense positions are ready for battle!" announced the operator in the power-sensor section. "Advised approaching Gazelles to keep under 1,000 feet,"

  Between Atlan and Bell the air shimmered. Two teleporters appeared, Pucky and Ras Tschubai.

  "Perry," said the mouse-beaver, "the positronics in those old space cows can only be used for scrap now. Got anything more for us to do?"

  Bell reached for the mouse-beaver. "Mission to Kerh-Onf, historical archives— give our men support. The lizards are advancing on them with thermos and pulsebeamers. You have to have them all here in 10 minutes at the latest. Then we'll be gone..."

  "You're on, Fatso...!" Pucky took hold of the African's hand and the two of them made their jump.

  One mess
age after another came in from the hangars of the Kublai Khan. The individual teams had returned in—their Gazelles. There were still only three groups missing: John Marshall's, Kitai Ishibashi's and the Kerh-Onf group from the archives.

  "In 15 minutes the Arkon fleet will be over Topid!" warned Atlan.

  "We won't be here by then Bell's voice did not sound quite as self-confident and certain as usual, however.

  Again there was news from the Com Room. "Sir, this approaching fleet has been summoned here through Arkon station G-98765-0. The Robot Regent has just spoken from Arkon to Topide's President Tgex-go. Unfortunately the conversation could not be deciphered..."

  Crafford the Fire Control Officer broke in on an emergency channel: "Chief, I need permission to fire! Ishibashi's Gazelle is close to being shot down. He won't be able to..."

  "...but no major hits!" decided Rhodan, swiftly checking his watch.

  Time was rushing by. Every second brought the giant Arkon fleet threateningly closer. Where was John Marshall and his Gazelle? Why didn't he signal his takeoff from the polar station?

  Just then the permanent defense installations of the Topides began firing from locations all around the spaceport, all of them apparently aiming at a single target which the panob gallery screens of the Kublai Khan couldn't yet pick up.

  There was another shout on the emergency channel from Fire Control. "Chief, we're opening fire!"

  Almost simultaneously the mighty impulse cannons thundered. Their target was the Topide defense positions. Then a gleaming streak moved across the viewscreens, coming from the sky. Was it a spaceship that had been shot down?

  From the Com Central: "Marshall signaling for immediate landing in the hangar, sir!"

  So it was Marshall who raced on that mad course with the Gazelle, hurtling out of the thinner air strata at top speed toward the protective screen of the Kublai Khan!

  "Topide fleet turning away, sir..."