"(novel) (ebook) - Perry Rhodan 0088 - (80) The Columbus Affair" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

Col. Julian Tifflor had an unpleasant sensation near his kidneys when he saw the strange apparition of energy starting to form in front of his fast cruiser. He stood almost at attention before the viewscreens while he waited for the completion of the technical miracle that the scientists on board the Drusus were producing.
At the moment he was thinking back to the first mission he had ever flown for Rhodan. At that time he had been assigned to the task of playing a trick on the Galactic Traders. He recalled that he had been a mere youngster then. His classmates had been shocked when he had been yanked right out of final exams at the Academy. A Terranian surgeon had then proceeded to plant a micro-apparatus in his body-a tracing signal transmitter which he still carried inside of him close to his kidneys.
Now here he was again on a special mission for Rhodan. Close ahead of the California the portal was taking form-a sort of transitional field which served to coordinate and equalize the energy components of two space-time dimensions. In the centre of the dark void appeared a ring of light that was just 300 meters in diameter. What lay beyond it could not be described in a few words.
Lines of tension came into Tifflor's lean face which had remained astonishingly young. His memories faded. The predominant thought now was that the Earth was at stake in what he had to do.
John Marshall stood behind him. As a member of the Mutant Corps, he had been one of his first associates. In his eyes Tifflor could not detect any hint of the telepath's feelings.
"John, we ought to wish each other the best. I was just thinking back to old times."
"Same here, Tiff," replied Marshall quietly. "Do you realize we should have been dead long ago? It's ironic to think that we were given the bio cell-shower treatment on Wanderer to give us a temporary reprieve from the aging process-only to face this. Tiff, this could turn out to be our last mission."
"Takeoff is go!" boomed Rhodan's voice from the loudspeaker. "Move it! What are you still waiting for? Do you know what kind of power this thing is eating up?"
Tifflor gave the required commands. With gently thrumming engines the Earth's most modern cruiser glided toward the light-ring. A minor course correction brought it exactly into the centre of it. Within 30 meters of the strange portal, Tifflor personally switched the controls to higher acceleration.
The weird iridescence brightened briefly and the vanished. The men felt a painful tug internally but the sensation passed quickly. Radio contact with the Drusus was cut off as though by a knife. Rhodan's last words could no longer be heard.
"Entrance manoeuvre completed, sir," the second officer announced. "We are on the other side."
Tifflor turned again to the viewscreens, which were now bolstered by the teleoptics. Here was the dark and gloomy universe of the Druufs where all colours seemed to be overlaid with a deep red hue. It was the same impression Tifflor had gotten from previous adventures here.
The California's tracking equipment came to life. There was evidence of heavy space traffic just 2 light-years away. In a similar manner the matter-sensors quickly revealed that the double star out there was the core of the Siamed System.
The giant dark red sun had a greenish-glowing companion. Since it was not unusual to find double stars with a family of planets, the initial discovery of these two suns had not appeared to be anything out of the ordinary. However, all that had changed when it was determined how eccentric the orbits of the system's 62 planets were. Some of them circled the principal red star exclusively, others orbited around both suns, and a third group wound their way on apparently counter-rotational paths through the strong gravitational fields of the binary star.
For Julian Tifflor, Siamed had always been a nightmare. Here nothing appeared to be normal and everything was fraught with incalculable factors. Added to this was a wavering time ratio throughout the entire universe, the extent of which was also unknown. Terranian cosmonautical science had restricted itself to a closer study of the Druufs' home system. What might be happening on the planets of all the many other stars was beyond Tifflor's knowledge. He was quite content just to know how to get into this brooding red Hell.
The California hovered in space without apparent motion.
"The ring-field is gone," announced the tracker, Tanaka Seiko.
Tifflor ran a hand through his hair. For a moment there was a slightly confused expression on his youthful and beardless face. Somewhat disconcerted, he looked around. "So-we expected that. The Drusus is needed back at the front John, what do you suggest? Unfortunately nobody was able to give us any further instructions beyond this point."
Marshall stepped closer to the glowing viewscreens. The big panob gallery, usually filled with brightly shining familiar stars, now presented a scene that was depressing to human instinct. The cruiser's hypersensors rumbled incessantly. Only 2 light-years away,large fleet units were either manoeuvring toward the naturally-created discharge rift or were already plunging into the narrow throat of the funnel-shaped formation. The vast number of ships developed such a volume of energy that it drowned out force radiations that were undoubtedly being generated by the exit funnel. Marshall asked for more information from the tracking centre but nobody could give him any further details.
The only thing definite was that Rhodan's calculations had been exact. They were here close to the Druufs' home system where the mysterious space station was supposed to be located.
At present, however, it could not be seen. The distance was too great, the tremendous mass of the numerous planets caused too much interference and any residual echo traces coming through were effectively jammed by the full-powered engines of countless warships.
Marshall caught himself uttering such a hefty curse that it startled the female mutant Betty Toufry.
"Why John!" she admonished him reproachfully.
Pucky the mousebeaver let out a shrill guffaw. He seemed to be the only living creature on board who was without a care. Obviously bored, the little fellow pattered into the middle of the Control Central. Placing his dainty hands on his hips, he comfortably supported himself on his wide, spoon-shaped beaver tail. "You could at least wait until I'm not present!" he declared indignantly.
"Look who's talking!" said the two-headed mutant, Ivan Goratschin, speaking from the head that was on his right side. The other head, known as Ivan the Elder, laughed amusedly.
Pucky's narrow mouseface twisted scornfully. His big ears turned to the 71/2нfoot giant with the clumsy, green-scaled body. "Nobody asked for your opinion." he said. "On the other hand I have decided that..."
"You what?" interrupted Marshall.
"...that we have no other choice but to jump into the system," he said, completing his sentence unperturbedly. "What else? Here we're completely isolated. There's no telepath on Hades and I don't advise using the hypercom. Ernst Ellert is a good telepath but he seems to be too tied up with this Druuf scientist. The lastime I already mentioned how much Onot keeps resisting Ellert's mental influence. So there's just no other choice but to..."
"What?" interjected Marshall again.
"I don't like to be interrupted all the time," chirped the mousebeaver angrily. "Some people have their nerve! Now may I please continue?"
Marshall waved his hands resignedly and Tifflor sat down in the nearest chair, also giving up.
"That's better," said Pucky, mollified. "I suggest that we make an advance of at least 10 light-hours. From that point I'll probably be able to contact Ellert. If necessary, John, Betty, Ishy Matsu and I will have to make a combined telepathic signal, and that's bound to reach him. He should know where that station can be found. Maybe we can drop the idea entirely of contacting Rous, because it's dangerous to send radio to the 13th planet. If that flying power plant blows up he'll know soon enough that we've left our calling card. Well, what do you think of it?"
Marshall was cleaning his nails, lost in thought.
"Hahem-m!" The telepath, Ishy Matsu, cleared her throat reprovingly.
John shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and looked toward the California's commander. "Tiff, what do you think? Does the little rascal have something there or are you toying around with something else?"
"I don't see any better way. There are still other alternatives but they're more involved and equally as dangerous. I think we should risk it I have to find the source of the discharge cone whether it's being generated on a planet or on a space station. All I can hope is that our agents haven't made an error. But if that crossover funnel turns out to be due to natural causes we can turn back with a clear conscience."
Marshall's face became inscrutable. Tiff became uneasy when he looked into those dark eyes. They seemed to burn with an inner fire.
"Not even then," said the Chief of the Mutant Corps emphatically. "From Atlan's account of the destruction of Atlantis we've learned that he was able to cause similar energy formations to collapse by shooting at them with converted impulse engines. In such a case we'll be governed accordingly and do what the Arkonides have effectively demonstrated 10,000 years ago. OK, should we get going?"
Julian Tifflor got up. He had understood completely. John Marshall was unshakably convinced that the uncanny energy phenomena would have to be put to an end in one way or another. The mutants went back into the mess room because they had nothing to do with flying the ship.
A half hour later the calculations for transition were completed. Tifflor had them rechecked 3 times until all uncertainty values were levelled off to a maximum possible exactitude.
By human standards the California had to hit its destination point right 'on the nose' when it emerged from hyperspace, which seemed to demonstrate the same laws in the Druuf plane as in the Einstein continuum. When they had first penetrated this second time-zone the hyper-dimensional factors had proved to be stable within themselves.
Tifflor made an announcement over the ship's P.A. "Transition will occur at about 6 minutes after acceleration start. Spacesuits for all hands. Combat mutant detail, put on your Arkonide battle gear. Teleporters may have to go into action sooner than the others. If the chance comes up, let's not miss it by being asleep at the switch. Marshall, see the weapons control officer. Get your issue of prepared micro-bombs and divide them up among your people. Whatever happens, this thing has to go like clockwork."
The light cruiser came to life. It picked up speed under full power thrust of the engines. The 150нman crew began to sense the initial buildup of tension which was always a part of going into action. This was seen in the fact that all necessary announcements or reports began to be short-lipped and to the point.
The G-shock absorbers took up the tremendous inertial forces of the acceleration surge. No one on board the California sensed that they were hurtling through the alien universe at a rate of 1000 km/sec.
For Julian Tifflor the flight characteristics of the special ship were very gratifying. If the Druuf weapon technology was superior, at least they had a spacer that no Druuf ship could match in terms of speed and acceleration. And to this was added the assurance that the Druuf fighting units were hampered by the difference of time-rate here, which only enabled them to move at half the speed of light, that is, in their own normal continuum. It was another story, of course, when the aliens used their linear transition technique of extra-dimensional travel. In that ease they were again superior.
Within a few minutes the spherical hull of the light cruiser began to vibrate strenuously. The propulsion units had been operating for some time now with the supercharger injection wide open, which held the acceleration at maximum.
10 seconds prior to transition, Tifflor activated the closed circuit video intercom. "We're going into the jump, John, are you all set?"
"OK, we're ready. Here's luck!"
Then came the pains of dematerialisation which seemed to pull at the very marrow of their bones. They were all accustomed to it, yet every hypertransition was always a torture to the entire body.