" Perry Rhodan 0039 - (31) Realm of the Tri-Planets" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

turned down by that dimwit who calls himself Administrator of Naat. Of course he’s in no position to give
us permission to start because the robot brain doesn’t approve of it."

Thora’s eyes became moist. Nobody had ever seen the proud Arkonide woman cry before. "That
wasn’t the worst," she confessed with unnatural calm. "That wretch dared give me, a Zoltral, to
understand that my crew and I could possibly be very welcome."

"Oh?"

"Serving as auxiliary forces under the command of a robot!" she cried out. Her face was distorted. "Can
you imagine that? We’re supposed to wait on the decision of a robot! This means they even refuse to let
us fly back. Perry, I beg you in the name of everything that is sacred to me, do something! There’s no
longer a Great Empire. I admit what I’ve always tried to deny: my people are weak, spoiled, depraved,
not very smart and terribly tired."

"With some exceptions, young lady," Rhodan said with emphasis. "Indeed, somevery great exceptions!
I’m looking at one sitting before me right now. So they want to press us into their service? I guess they’d
like to have theGanymede too. Clever idea, isn’t it?"

Rhodan turned on his heel. The men fell silent before his famous ironic smile which was too gentle and
sweet to inspire calm confidence.

"Lt. Tifflor!"

The young officer snapped to attention. He had recently graduated from the Space Academy and was
already decorated with a Silver Comet for meritorious service in the Springer mission, when fresh out of
school.

Tiff, as he was called for short, thought his last hour had come. He knew that expression of Rhodan’s
only too well. It was the same smile he had on his lips when Tifflor was sent as secret agent on his most
bewildering assignment.

"Sir?" the 20-year-old officer asked.

"Prepare a Gazelle reconnaissance ship for immediate start. Provide full armament and equipment for a
long flight. The outer hatches must remain closed. Thank you!"

"Marshall! Select nine men with complementary capabilities from your Mutant Corps. I need 10 good
men on board including you, thank you!"

"Bell! Assemble 40 experienced veterans of the old taskforce Vega Sector. Volunteers only, please.
Lieutenant Tifflor, take note that you’ll have about 55 men aboard your Gazelle."

"Col. Freyt! You’ll remain here with theGanymede . Maintain full battle alert at all times! Let the men
sleep and eat at their battle stations. You must be ready to take off within 10 seconds when you receive
my signal. Can you do it?"

Freyt was puzzled. "Did you say take off, sir?" he gasped in astonishment. "With theGanymede ? We’ve
already tried that before, sir! When we increased our thrust to two million tons the captive field-forces
went up to an absorption value of at least three million tons. How do you expect me to do it, sir?"