"Perry Rhodan 088 - The Columbus Affair" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)
"Marshal Freyt, quickly," said Mercant. His voice sounded loud and hurried. "Class 1 priority."
"The Marshal will be notified, sir. Kindly wait a moment."
Mercant had to wait two minutes until Freyt's lean, expressive countenance appeared on the screen. He was breathing heavily. Apparently he had sprinted the last few yards. The Security Chief allowed the other a moment to catch his breath. They had known each other too long by now to waste such moments on polite amenities.
Without preamble Mercant said: "Freyt, we have a hypercom message from Perry Rhodan. Are you alone?"
Freyt nodded without saying a word.
"OK, then prepare yourself for the biggest shocker of the past 50 years. Rhodan has broken all communications restrictions and made a direct beam transmission from Arkon to Earth. The trace and measurement data are not in error. There's only one transmitter with 50 million kilowatts of output and that's on the war planet of the Greater Imperium."
Marshal Freyt, the Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Solar Space Fleet, breathed even more heavily than before. "You mean he radioed us directly without using an advance cruiser station as a relay? If that message has been traced to us we'll be smack in the pits of hell!"
"There is such a possibility but he's made allowances for that. Conditions have changed over night." Suddenly Mercant's voice took on a note of celebration. "Freyt, the ruling robot Brain of Arkon has been conquered! Our strenuously prepared commando mission has succeeded. As an Arkonide who has survived the degeneration of his people, Atlan has been recognized by the actual security circuits of the Brain-and by that I mean he's been recognized as the direct descendant of a famous emperor of the House of Gonozal. All of which gives rise to a very momentous situation. From today forward there'll be some changes in our galactic policy."
"Is that what the Chief says?" Freyt broke in excitedly.
"Yes, quite unequivocally. I'll send the decoded text to your headquarters by courier. Rhodan is presently with his commando troops on Arkon 3. Atlan has taken over the power but it's still made to look from the outside as though the giant robot were still in the saddle. That way he can conceal himself behind the machine, which was known to be merciless, and he's able to make clever use of its authority. I go along with that myself. If it got out that a living Arkonide has taken the Regent's place there'd be some heavy unrest in the colonial areas of the Greater Imperium. Rhodan informs us that the situation is under control. The only remaining functions of the Brain that are independent are connected with questions of administration and support Important decisions are handled by Admiral Atlan, whom we have to consider from now on as the Arkon ruler and Imperator."
After intensive reflection, the Marshal said: it's a surprising situation, alright. Are you aware of the fact that Atlan knows the Earth's location better than you or I?"
Allan D. Mercant again revealed his famous smile. "Only too well! If he goes sour on us it will only take a single order from him to send a giant fleet against the Earth. Perry is weighing such possibilities. In the dispatch you are instructed to send the Fleet flagship Drusus to Arkon at once. In the same message, Lt.-Col. Sikerman has been promoted to full colonel. He is to command the Drusus. He has orders to fly to the planet Zalit. There he will take on board the commando troops that were left behind-scientists, technicians and mutants. Then he will go directly to Arkon 3. That about covers the contents of the message."
"Pretty scanty contents, I'd say, in view of such a revolutionizing state of affairs," the Fleet Commander fretted gravely.
"It's plenty for me. I see some pretty cloudy times ahead, Freyt. The future of Mankind depends upon the goodwill of an Arkonide by the name of Atlan. After he's taken over the robot Brain, all doors will be open to him. Basically I don't doubt his friendship for us. But since I'm no alien race psychologist I can't predict how this sudden acquisition of super power will sit with him. Just prepare yourself for anything and keep the Fleet on standby alert. Send Col. Sikerman to me before he takes off. I'd like to give him some detailed information about the Druufs' unsuccessful invasion. It will be of interest to Rhodan that these insect offsprings of an alien universe succeeded in setting up a transmitter base in the U.S. state of Wyoming. Or better yet, wait! I'll come to your place. Keep Sikerman on hand. See you!"
Mercant cut off the connection. For a moment he sat motionlessly behind his large desk. The light of the sinking sun was reflected from the keys of the switchboard installation.
When the Security Chief got to his feet he had an unconscious awareness of how old he was. The bio cell shower he had received on the planet Wanderer would soon have to be renewed if the cellular deterioration of his synthetically reactivated body was not to take him by surprise.
Mercant walked slowly past the saluting robot guards. In his hand he clutched the plastic sheet that contained the overwhelming news.
The robot Regent of Arkon had been partially shut down and reprogrammed! Mercant knew that this meant the dawn of a new era.
* * * *
Col. Baldur Sikerman took the highly classified secret documents and handed them over to his personal robot bodyguard. The briefing in the Fleet headquarters was at an end. There were no further questions.
"I wish you safe journey," said Marshal Freyt. "Keep your eyes open and in spite of everything you should continue to avoid any action that could lead to a discovery of the Earth. In outer space there are plenty of intelligences who have good tracking devices. Make your transitions under protection of your hyper-shock dampers and remain extremely discreet and uncommunicative. Presumably you will be given a friendly reception, especially on Zalit. Take our people on board there and then fly the remaining a light-years to Arkon. If in that area you are attacked in spite of our hopeful expectations, pull back at once. In the latter case, Rhodan will have to find another way. Advise the Chief that everything here is in order."
"Including the matter of the Druuf station in Wyoming," interjected Mercant
Freyt looked at his watch. "It's time. Take it easy with those hypertransitions. We are quite interested in seeing you arrive all in one piece in star cluster M-13. And..." Freyt smiled suddenly "... may those shoulder trimmings continue to expand, Colonel Sikerman!"
The superbattleship Drusus, the most modern of heavy class warships in the Solar Fleet, took off on 12 May 2044 at hours 05:13.
The spaceport of Terrania was flooded in the brilliant light of the impulse-engines opened at full thrust. Before its deep-throated thunder could startle people out of their sleep in the nearby capital of the Solar Empire, the spherical giant, measuring almost a mile in diameter, had already reached outer space, where Sikerman set course for transition under an acceleration of 500 km/sec per second. He had received clearance for making his first hyperjump from within the Solar System itself.
* * * *
Col. Poskanov received the first tracking report from Maj. Untcher, chief of the 4th Security Patrol Wing. A massive figure of a man who was known as an outstanding space tactician, Poskanov functioned as commanding officer of the 16th Space Pursuit Force in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, Surveillance Zone 12н14Aн3746.
His flagship, the battle cruiser Osage, picked up Untcher's pulse-coded message just as the announced flight of the Drusus was bringing the latter vessel close to the speed of light.
Being a logical thinker, Poskanov issued a general command for his ships to switch all available power into a hyper-phase operation of their defence screens and for the time being to avoid any changes of course. In all units of cruiser formation 16, every thrust engine went into an idling mode. Their gleaming spherical hulls were inclosed by invisible screens of energy. Thus they were well-protected when the gigantic Drusus went into its first transition close to the orbit of Mars.
Although all hypersensors had been secured, on board almost all vessels there was a breakdown of their hyper-shock absorbers. Poskanov felt the Osage shudder in every joint of its 500 meter hull. During such major transitions the 'space quake' generated in the fixed 4-dimensional continuum was like a shockwave of unimaginable magnitude.
As the effects of this ebbed away the commanders of smaller vessels reported damages to outer compartments as well as to internal installations. Four Gazelles, which were fast auxiliary craft attached to light cruisers of the State class, requested permission to turn in to repair docks for overhaul. Col. Poskanov issued the necessary authorizations. Auxiliary unit G-275 announced that its thermal equalizer screens were out of order.
Poskanov decided to have the Gazelles picked up by the fast cruiser Congo and taken to the overhaul ship yards at the Moon Base. As he was transmitting the necessary instructions to the flagship's Com Central, a high-priority pulse-coded dispatch came in from Solar Fleet High Command. The deciphering process took 36 minutes.
Meanwhile the Congo's commander was sweating out a difficult course adjustment, getting ready to use his magnetic tractor beams in an attempt to capture the damaged auxiliary craft, which was racing through space in free fall.
Two minutes before the actual recovery, Col. Poskanov received the decoded text of the message. After reading it, his first precautionary act was to contact the Congo. The cruiser's skipper was disgruntled, after such intricate approach manoeuvres, to receive orders to break off the rescue at once and return at top speed to his regularly assigned interceptor sector.
Lt. Nafroth, commander of the damaged Gazelle, watched with increasing amazement as the echo blip rapidly diminished in the 3-D screen of his matter detector, which operated faster than light. The Congo disappeared so swiftly that it could hardly be traced by the tracking beams.
Ten seconds later the radio receiver came to life. The formation chief was on the telecom. Nafroth was instructed to let his small ship continue to drift, except that he was to avoid any collisions with cosmic debris.
Since the new Moon Base of the Fleet was closer at this time than Mars, which was on the other side of the sun, it sent out a fast salvage and recovery tender. The Gazelle's rate of drift was about 10% SPEOL so it took the tender 7 hours to reach it and pull it into its vast cargo locks.
Where Lt. Nafroth was concerned, this took care of the situation. He could not suspect that the dangerously close hypertransition of the Drusus presaged an event in which his was only a very minor role.
By the time the tender began its return flight, Col. Poskanov had already assembled the 16th Space Pursuit Force within Sector 12-14A. At a minimal velocity the ships drifted in free fall through interplanetary space. Poskanov tied in a remote-controlled briefing session over the formation's videophone network, which operated at normal light-speed. Thus any danger of intercepting their voice-video traffic was minimized, especially since the flagship's transmitter was only putting out 250 watts of power.
The individual commanders had all gone into their respective Communications rooms for the occasion and Poskanov was visible to all of them simultaneously on the viewscreens.
"Gentlemen, effective immediately we are in a war-time combat readiness mode of operation," he announced in his typically clipped tones. "Events have occurred in star cluster M-13 which appear to make possible an imminent discovery of the Earth. You will receive further information when I have more details at my disposal. Meanwhile I have received instructions to fully equip and provision this surveillance and pursuit force accordingly, and to beef up all crews to regulation strength, after which we are to move out and join the Pluto Security Task Force under General Deringhouse. That means we will vacate all previously assigned picket stations in this area. We will fly in closed formation to the Ganymede base where we'll pick up water, provisions, spare parts and equipment in accordance with Operation Columbus. Advise your crews that their last spot for sending out mail must be at Ganymede. All currently scheduled leaves are cancelled. Although censorship of outgoing mail will not be imposed, you will advise your men that our further movements are not to be imparted to anyone. Thank you, that is all for the time being. Cut off now and switch to your data link tie-ins with the flagship. I will pilot us en route."
The viewscreens darkened. All commanders returned pensively to their respective Control Centrals.
Poskanov looked around in the circle of his staff officers. The Osage was already picking up speed. The formation chief listened for a moment to the mighty roar of the engines before he spoke again, seemingly lost in thought: "There's an old Russian proverb that says a bear will keep on licking up honey until the bees fly down his throat. I'm thinking maybe Mankind is feeling those first stings! If we are discovered it'll be a matter of life and death. Unfortunately in our case we're not going to be dealing with honey bees but with countless battleships from the depths of space. It will get a little warm for us, gentlemen!"
Poskanov nodded to the Commander of the Osage. With his massive shoulders bent slightly forward, he walked ponderously over to his command seat. Before him glowed the giant panob screens.
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