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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] In search of a super-weapon with which to rescue his Mutants from the Springers on Ice Planet, Perry is en route through the space-time continuum to the Planet of Eternal Life when he lands on Barkon. Shortly after the beginning of time the first civilised being had developed on Barkon. Their power expanded through the Universe, until suddenly their planet left orbit and reappeared in the farthest known galaxy. Now, hollowing out the planet to convert it into a titanic worldship, the Barkonides intend to return… This is the stirring story of– INFINITY FLIGHT 1/ The Stardust & The Star The alien ship was not alone. It was accompanied by seven others of its kind. Its kind: gigantic, obvious at first sight not built by human hand. Nine hundred feet long with a diameter of 150 feet. Huge barrel shape rounded in front, blunted at end. Light shimmering at regular intervals from its circular windows. And behind those round windows, giant square-shaped shadows… moving. * * * * Fifteen light-hours out, the fleet orbited the sun, observing its planets with sensitive instruments. The spacecraft were operated by creatures who had never set foot on Earth. They little resembled human beings. They called no planet home; their homeland was the universe. They lived in their ships and carried on trade with all the intelligent races of the space realm. They loved peace only when it profited them. Should war hold greater promise of financial gain, they made certain to foment it. They were both tolerant and authoritarian; they had a great sense of humour but at the same time were characterized by their unrelenting ruthlessness if ever anyone dared thwart them in matters of enterprise. And exactly this had just occurred! Inside the control centre of the lead vessel, Commodore Topthor was stomping about in front of the videoscreens. He was truly stomping, for Topthor weighed approximately half a ton. This thousand pound person from another planet was as broad as he was tall—five foot four. His complexion had a definite greenish tinge, his smooth skull was devoid of any hair. The men of his race compensated for their baldness by wearing bushy red beards. The Galactic Traders were descendants of those Arkonides who owned a huge empire 30,000 light-years from Earth but who had become too weak to rule their stellar domain. As a result the Traders had split off and set up a realm of their own. They established business contacts with all inhabited planets and lived off this trade. But Topthor was no ordinary Trader; he belonged to the clan called the Mounders. Ages ago when these particular descendants of the ancient Arkonides were still living permanently on a planet, their world had a gravity 2.1 times that of Terra. In the course of many generations this had caused certain anatomical changes which had resulted in the present body shape of the Mounders. They were outsiders to their own race but galactic ethic forbade racial discrimination of any kind. True to their cunning and clever nature, the Traders—or Springers as they were more familiarly known—had made capital out of the bodily changes of their kinfolk: the Mounders became the guard troops of the Springers, pledged to come to the aid of their own race whenever needed and, if necessary, do battle for them. However, this time, Topthor was acting on his own initiative. He was staring at the videoscreen in the centre of a whole battery of screens covering one wall. It showed the picture of a blue-green planet with all the signs of a flourishing civilization. Continents were imbedded in blue oceans. White cloud banks overhung the vast stretches of land, hiding what was underneath. The giant being with the humanoid features nodded and hit a button with his huge hand. At once another videoscreen lit up. The face of a fellow Mounder appeared. "What do you want, Topthor?" "Is that where it’s supposed to be? Down there on the third planet of this solar system? It’s strange we should find out about it so late." "They call themselves Terranians," the other Mounder remarked. "It’s only a few years since they are capable of space travel and already they’ve managed to stick their nose into our business and establish trade relations with two other solar systems." "Yes, I’m aware of that, Grogham. I’ve listened to the radio messages of our brethren; the bad news was quite explicit. Orlgans and Etztak sent out quite detailed reports which we intercepted. Though they didn’t request our aid, it isn’t against our laws to intervene, as long as it won’t harm another group of our traders." The two Mounders were conversing in the usual Intercosmo spoken by all intelligent races of the empire. Grogham stroked the beard that made him look older than he was in reality. "According to the latest reports, Orlgans and Etztak have their hands full trying to catch a special envoy of the Terranian leader Perry Rhodan. That envoy has entrenched himself on an ice Planet some 300 light-years distant from these parts. Since we are here in this sector I don’t see why we shouldn’t meanwhile investigate this planet number three—after all it’s the cause of all our latest troubles. Who knows, we might end up with some advantageous business deals ourselves." Topthor’s mood changed abruptly. He said icily: "Bossiness deals for us are out of the question here, Grogham. Not in this case! You don’t seem to realize that we have encountered here for the first time some serious competition. In hardly ten years this Rhodan has managed to create an interstellar power. This formerly backward planet now disposes of a mighty fleet. Its ships are attacking us. This is an open declaration of war. And why? We were only attempting to find out what they were up to." "Not we," corrected Grogham, the pedant, "it was Orlgans. He seized two of Rhodan’s ships and tried to pump his men for information. If you call that a friendly gesture…" "Enough of that!" roared Topthor—and whenever this half ton colossus began to yell even the videoscreens of far distant ships began to shake. No wonder then that Grogham grew scared. After all, he was merely the commander of one of the ships which was part of Topthor’s commercial and battle fleet. "Do you really believe I am interested in such piddling details? Do you think I undertook this long trip just to stick my nose in the affairs of other merchant clans, let alone to come to their assistance? If we can turn a nice profit in this affair, that would be a plus factor, but so far neither Orlgans nor Etztak have requested our aid, and they are obliged to pay only in case they have asked for help." Grogham was dumbfounded. "Then what did we come here for? I’ve never known you to do something without a compelling reason…" "That’s a keen observation," praised Topthor. "I never do anything for nothing. All along I’ve followed the reports of our robot spies, which as you might know have been put out of commission meanwhile, as well as the reports of our station on the moon Titan. Rhodan would be no match for Etztak in case he should resort to something he is still hesitant about, namely to request us or some other battle units to join him in his fight against this upstart. Etztak can’t make up his mind there because he knows it would cost him a good deal of money. Meanwhile Rhodan is planning to get some superior weapons which would enable him to defeat us, and in particular Etztak. And where do you think Rhodan is hoping to get such weapons?" Grogham was again at a loss. "Then let me tell you," bragged a triumphant Topthor. "I do know something about it. People talk about the so-called Planet of Eternal Life with a certain amount of scepticism; there is a rumour that it might exist but nobody actually knows if this legend is based on reality. I am convinced there is a kernel of truth hidden in every legendary tale—therefore this must apply also to this story." "The Planet of Eternal Life!" mumbled a still incredulous Grogham. "I’ve heard of it. It’s supposed to wander somewhere in the depths of the cosmos along its erratic course but no one has ever found it. just a fairy tale…" "No fairy tale!" shouted Topthor furiously. "Do you assume in all earnestness Rhodan would chase a phantom now that his survival is at stake? I have reliable information that Rhodan knows where this legendary planet can be found. He knows its co-ordinates. And he is planning to go there in order to obtain new weapons. And if he should succeed that would mean the end of our position of superiority in this galaxy. But if we beat him to it, it will mean a fabulous business deal for us." "Is Etztak informed of Rhodan’s plans?" "Of course he knows about it. But he is a fool, just like you—he won’t believe in the existence of this mysterious planet. It appears far more important to him to capture that little subaltern of Rhodan, Tifflor by name, who is hiding out somewhere on an ice planet. Well, I’m smarter than Etztak." Grogham did not raise any objections. "Etztak and his tactics are of no interest to us for the time being," continued Topthor. "We have but one goal to pursue: to keep Rhodan under our surveillance. He is a remarkable fellow. He succeeded in wresting the carefully guarded secrets from the Arkonides. I am highly impressed by this little Terranian. But I must not let myself be carried away by feelings, for after all this same Terranian is bent on shattering our power. And he must be prevented from doing that at all costs. For once order is restored within the Arkonide empire—and this is the goal this Rhodan is striving for—we won’t keep our exclusive position as the sole traders in our galaxy, and no more exploitation of newly discovered worlds either, that’s certain." "What do the reports have to say about Rhodan starting his journey?" "Rhodan? That’s just the point—we’ve no idea. The reports are old—relatively old. They ceased the moment our relay stations, or rather those of Etztak, were put out of commission by Rhodan’s hostile actions. We heard only that Rhodan will attempt to visit the Planet of Eternal Life—and now comes the most important point of that message: He’s going to visit it once again. That means he must have been there already once before, so he knows its position." Grogham’s bushy red beard trembled visibly. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "He’s been there before?" He breathed heavily. "By all the Gods of the entire Universe and all the Markets of the Galaxy…" "Now you get it!" triumphed Topthor, "That sounds different, doesn’t it? So you see we wont be chasing after some will-o’-the-wisp, we will pursue a very real trail. By the way," he abruptly changed the subject, "still no news from the other ships?" "They are positioned on the other side of the system, 30 light-hours away. So far nothing has been observed of any Terrestrial ships starting. And no transitions have taken place either." Topthor seemed pleased. "That’s important. Rhodan will give himself away if he carries out any transitions. Our space-structure-sensors will register and determine the location of any movement throughout the five-dimensional plane. We’ll simply follow after these transitions and if we’re lucky well rematerialise close by the spot where Perry Rhodan and his ships will return into normal space." "You figured that out very cleverly," Grogham had to admit. "Let’s hope you won’t have to wait too long for Rhodan to appear." "Even if it should take years," snapped Topthor, "it will be worthwhile in any case. The Planet of Eternal Life—how can you compare that with a few lost years… ?" And once more Grogham was at a loss for an answer. Silently the eight ships continued on their path around the distant sun, waiting for the moment when a Terranian would try to leave his home planet Earth and then his solar system. These eight ships formed a barrier which could not be pierced without alerting their highly sensitive location finder instruments. Earth meanwhile was unaware that it had become the centre of an intergalactic defence belt. And this belt had all the time it needed for a long wait. * * * * Perry Rhodan, however, did not have a lot of time left. What he had tried to avoid for a decade now, had overtaken him: The most powerful race of the huge Arkonide empire alerted to Earth’s existence. Gone was the protective isolation and the blissful anonymity. Of all the living beings in the universe, it had to be the Springers, the galactic traders, who discovered Earth’s position! The first battle had been won. All the robot spies that the Springers had deployed on Earth and within the solar system had been put out of commission. In a surprise attack Rhodan had successfully destroyed the enemy’s communication bases on Titan. But the situation was still undecided. Far away in the system of the double star Beta-Albireo, 320 light-years from Earth, stood the two heavy cruisers Terra and Solar System engaged in a fight against the armed commercial fleet of the two Springer commanders Orlgans and Etztak. And on the second planet of that system, a primeval ice world, Julian Tifflor and his friends were holding out, waiting to be rescued. Among them was Pucky, the feisty little mousebeaver, with his many remarkable talents. They were all waiting, hoping to hold off the Springers and thus divert their attention from Perry Rhodan until he could obtain the necessary weapons with which he could definitely chase away the enemy intruders once and for all. The general situation was far from rosy at the time when Stardust , a mighty battleship of the empire class with a diameter a half mile, was racing toward the point of transition. Rhodan was visibly upset about this situation, a fact which was noticed by his friend Reginald Bell with a commensurate degree of uneasiness. "I’d like to know why you should keep on worrying your head off, Perry," he tried to cheer up his long time pal and boss. "Everything’s going OK. We needn’t be anxious on account of Pucky and Tiff, they’ll make it alright. And as far as Nyssen is concerned…" "Major Nyssen’s job isn’t exactly easy," Rhodan reminded him in a serious tone. "The two cruisers under his command certainly know their duty but I don’t know how long they’ll be able to keep up flying mock attack sorties against the Springers. And worse even, how long will it take until this presumably highly intelligent race will come to realize that we are using nothing but delaying actions against them?" "Why exactly are they called Springers? They look just the way we do, don’t they?" "They own no proper home planet but keep springing from one solar system to the next. They are also known by the name of Traders but I think Springer suits them best because it emphasizes their rootlessness." Bell gazed at the videoscreen. The giant planet Jupiter was moving sideways and out of view. Assuming a speed close to that of light, the Stardust
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