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52

The Pseudo One
by Clark Darlton

1/ PITY POOR PUCKY!

A MINOR MIRACLE: there were still some inhabitants of the worlds of the 21st terrestrial century who had not yet heard of Pucky the mouse-beaver. Of course this was not exactly a tragedy for most of them: people suddenly encountering him for the first time were frequently in for some embarrassing surprises.
Such was the case of the insubordinate settlers in the high plateau country south of Venus City. They knew from experience that World Government on the home planet was not in the habit of dispatching a punitive expedition to nip such rebellions as this in the bud so they had decided to assert their independence by shaking off a slight burden of taxation.
Inasmuch as Perry Rhodan was off somewhere in the depths of the cosmos and could not be contacted, the Terranian World Government took matters in its own hands and assigned Pucky the task of keeping things in order on Venus.
Which the Vagabond leaper was only too happy to do.
So one day when a Disneyesque creature resembling an ancient cartoon rodent named Mack the Mouse, or something like that, appeared among the rebellious settlers, it was met with peals of laughter. They laughed even more uproariously when this comical cantankerous apparition asserted that it was an emissary of the Solar Empire, come in the interests of Law & Order.
Their laughter subsided only when the strange animal, who spoke impeccable English, brought its hidden faculties into play. The ring leader could not hide a single thought from him because Pucky was an esper, first class. He was also capable of appearing almost everywhere simultaneously because he was also a teleporter. And finally, all the settlers' weapons took minds of their own and assembled themselves high above the plateau, whereupon they fell into a very deep lake. Because in addition Pucky was psychokinetic.
Naturally this was enough to bring the settlers to their senses. With many fine words they begged forgiveness and promised to be obedient in the future and to pay the agreed upon taxes.
On the evening of this eventful day, Pucky permitted a celebration in honour of his obvious generosity. The leaders of the aborted uprising had invited him and they served him some vintage Venusian wine. It turned into quite a gay festival and Pucky's rising enthusiasm caused him to forget some of his better upbringing. In his squeaky voice he regaled them with some rugged spaceman songs which he had picked up from Reginald Bell. With husky voices, the men responded in a roaring accompaniment. In the forest which surrounded the colony, the animal fell into silent wonderment over this unusual bedlam. For them, too, a singing mouse-beaver was new to their experience. In great bewilderment, a ring-nosed beetle-eater crawled deeper into its hole and decided to look for a new home first thing in the morning. Even a half-deaf corkscrew worm bored its way deeply into the ground in order to get away from the intolerable caterwauling.
To put it mildly, Pucky was feeling no pain.
Of course he was vaguely disturbed, now and then, by a subtle intrusion of weak thought-impulses into his subconscious which did not originate in the settlers' brains, they being befogged by the strong wine they had consumed, but he tended to dismiss these exterior stimuli. After a task well done, hadn't he earned himself a night on the 'town' so to speak? Why should he worry about the Terranian garrison at Port Venus, the capital city? They could wait until morning.
So Pucky continued singing and dedicated himself to the spirit of the occasion.
It was much later that night, while surrendering to the luxury of a soft bed in the mayor's house, when he sensed the thought-impulses again.
Pucky! This is Command Headquarters of the Mutant Corps! Come in, please! Report your situation!
It was too clear a signal to be ignored. He could detect in the vibrational pattern the personality of Betty Toufry, whose telepathic ability had often left him breathless with astonishment. Betty was in charge of the Mutant taskforce on Venus and it was she who had the basic responsibility for squelching the revolt of the settlers.
Pucky sighed and made an effort to clear his head.
Goldilocks! he thought, as he gradually regained his alertness. The situation is splendid! All I did was get them alked up.
Alked up?
The mouse-beaver grinned when he realized that this innocent one might not fully understand these special expressions of Bell.
Wine! he explained somewhat brusquely. Very excellent wine! The revolt has been forgotten. Tomorrow I'll report in and I'll give you a kiss.
Betty did not seem to be particularly enthralled by this prospect.
You report in here at once! I have a new assignment for you.
The mouse-beaver continued lying restfully in the bed but he shook off his feelings of fatigue. In the course of duty, had he also sampled too much wine...?
What's up? he wanted to know. And he was aware of not feeling very well.
A special mission, dearie! the telepathic answer came back at once. You will have to take off early in the morning.
Pucky let out an agonized groan and sat up in bed. He supported his back against the wall. The soft pelt of his tummy gleamed in the light of a street lamp outside the house.
Take off? Will this gypsy life of mine never cease?
Now Betty seemed to become almost impatient with him. Pucky, you come here immediately or I'll advise Rhodan that you have refused to obey an order! He has expressly requested that you be assigned and...
All at once, Pucky came alive. His fatigue and the queasiness in his tummy disappeared as though an invisible hand had swept them aside. He jumped to his feet in the middle of the bed.
Rhodan? Rhodan has requested me? Good old Chief! He hasn't forgotten me! He was almost carried away by his emotions but got hold of himself. I'll be there in 5 minutes. The spaceport?
Yes... and hurry!
I'm already on my way, replied Pucky, and he began to get dressed. In his fine, delicate handwriting, he wrote a note of thanks to the settlers and warned them to dismiss any future thoughts of rebellion.
Then he concentrated on his goal and made his teleport jump. At first the air around him started to shimmer and then he disappeared. In the same second he rematerialised in Port Venus at the agreed location.
Betty Toufry didn't so much as blink an eye. She sat on her bed. She had modestly put on a house robe to cover a quite diaphanous nightie. The periods of night and day on Venus were not measured by Earthly standards because according to the rotation of the 2nd planet an actual night would amount to 120 hours.
The walls of the room consisted of viewscreens and control panels. Here all threads of the Venus control web came together; from this point the task assignments of the mutants were administered. In the absence of John Marshall, the actual Chief of the Mutant Corps, Betty had taken over his post.
"You sure this can't wait till morning?" asked Pucky. But then he recalled who had called for him. "Rhodan himself put in a request for me? In that case you could have called me sooner."
The girl-who had remained young as a result of biological cell showers on the planet Wanderer, administered to all important mutants-shook her head to clear it of Pucky's self-cancelling logic.
"Rhodan's call was only received a few hours ago on the hypercom. He put in an unusual order which we had to fill immediately. Only then was there time to think about you. You are a part of the equipment he requested."
"Me-a piece of equipment?" retorted Pucky indignantly and he squatted down on a chair. "Is that what the Chief said?"
"Naturally he didn't put it quite that way. He was very insistent that we only send you and no one else."
"Apparently he's fully aware of my qualities," replied the mouse-beaver contentedly.
"Hm-m, perhaps," the girl admitted. In outward appearance she might as well have been 18 or 30 but in actuality Betty Toufry was more than 60 years old. "At any rate, tomorrow after the sleep period you are to fly to Hellgate."
Pucky sat up straight and stiffened his big ears. Between his lips his incisor tooth became visible, which was an indicator of his mood. If it came into view you knew he was with the situation.
"Hellgate!" He shook his head wonderingly. "That furnace world, of all places! Couldn't the Chief have figured out something more sensible?"