" Perry Rhodan 0041 - (33) The Giant's Partner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

vice-imperatorship was in name only, but the robotic rulership of the giant Brain could only be a
temporary state of affairs, certainly not justification for betrayal of the Empire.

Following his reflective pause, Rogal crept on further. Yes, he thought, what he had in mind was not a
crime but an act of justice, a bold stroke which would free his world from the dictatorship of a
power-mad tyrant.

SuddenlyтАж muffled footsteps above. RecedingтАж hesitating a momentтАж returning. Halting directly
overhead. Rogal had the uncanny feeling that someone was looking down at him straight through the
stone ceiling.

A cold shudder ran down his back; terror clutched his heart in a painful grip. ThenтАФgrateful relief:what
tricks the imagination can play! Naturally the other person could not see himтАж it was purest chance
that a guard happened to be on patrol above the passage.

Rogal moved forward again and sighed as his groping hands found a smooth obstruction. тАФThe door?

The obstruction was made of wood, just as the bodyguard had described. RogalтАЩs fingers searched till
they found the small knob, then hesitated. What lay behind the door? Someone waiting there to
apprehend him, warned by that mysterious instinct which often prolongs the lives of many tyrants? Or did
the secret passage only continue to the spiral stairs between the walls, leading upward?

He pressed an anxious ear against the wooden surface and listened intently, eyes tight shut. тАФNo sound.

Slowly he turned the knob. The door opened. It remained dark. He stepped through and left the door
ajar. He knew that from this side there was no possibility of opening the door. Under no circumstance
could he close it if he didnтАЩt want to rob himself of the only escape route. Cautiously he groped farther
until his feet encountered the first step of the stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief.So the bodyguard had
told the truth. Now there were exactly 368 steps to the sleeping chamber of Demesor.

He paused at step 200 to take a breather. This was of course not a true spiral stairway but rather more
like a rising zig-zag passageway with stairs. Like all buildings on Zalit, the ZarltтАЩs palace had been erected
in the form of a funnel. The stem of the funnel comprised a circular area having a diameter of about 150
feet. From there the arena-like terraces rose outward and upward at a 45┬░ angle, reaching a height of
some 500 feet. At the upper extremity the diameter was about 750 feet. The individual circular levels on
the funnelтАЩs interior had floor-to-ceiling windows. The Zalite architecture came from Arkon in keeping
with the fact that the Zalites themselves were descendants of the Arkonides.

For the first time Rogal dared to turn on his flashlight for a moment to get his bearings. His
reddish-brown skin resembled that of an American Indian on Earth. His thick mane of hair reflected
coppery tones. In his right hand was the strangely formed weapon which was to end the life of the Zarlt.
The stairs led farther upwards. He heard again the sound somewhere of evenly paced footsteps, which
would recede, come closer, then grow fainter again. The palace must be swarming with guards. Like all
dictators, Demesor was suspicious.

Rogal smiled grimly and turned off his light. The darkness seemed to double its intensity. His hand
searched for the wall and then he continued on his way. It was clear to him that he was placing his life on
the line: the Zarlt would not spare him if he caught him. He also knew that before he died they would try
to get everything out of him they could. They would become aware that he possessed friends, friends
who could become dangerous to the State. Especially they might be interested in learning the identity of