" Perry Rhodan 0082 - (74) Checkmate Universe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

shoulders and held him upright. As though from somewhere far in the distance, he heard an angry voice
say: "We don’t mess around with jokes! Now do what you’re told."

Tifflor did not hesitate any longer. If they beat him unconscious beforehand, he would not be able to
defend himself later. He freed himself from the grip supporting him and went to the auto. He opened the
electronic locking system of the doors and motor, climbed through the rear door and sat down. It was
good to sit down. The blow had been a hard one and Tifflor felt himself getting sick.

One of the two gangsters sat down next to him. The other sat behind the controls and when the small
vidscreen of the microwave interceptor, which registered traffic on the beltway, showed that the way was
clear, he let the vehicle move out. He drove directly to one of the fastest belts, which lay almost in the
middle of the wide street, and there let the car be taken along the moving roadband as it would. Up to
now he had chosen no driving program. That and the fact he had selected an inner belt convinced Tifflor
that their destination was no small distance away, probably outside the city.

He tried to question the man next to him. First he asked direct questions and when he did not get even a
single answer, he resorted to taunting and jibing him. However, the man seemed immune to every sort of
psychological tactic. He sat as silent as a statue.

Tifflor pondered his chances of not being noticed if he attempted to pull out the weapon he carried in a
holster under his uniform jacket. He tried once to reach into the pocket where a slit in the lining led
straight to the butt of the small beamer. The man next to him suddenly came alive and held the barrel of
his weapon close to Tifflor’s face, saying quietly: "Keep your hands in your lap, buddy. We know all
about how fleet uniforms are tailored!"

Tifflor gave up.

Some thoughts came to him relative to the opinion of the two men which he had formed when he first
encountered them. They gave the impression of knowing precisely what they wanted. His rank and the
certainty that in five hours at most they would have the police and the secret service hot on their trail did
not seem to affect them. Tifflor was not so certain any more that they were really common thugs. He
remembered the unrest that had reigned a few weeks before when Perry Rhodan was still thought dead.
The unrest was past. It had quieted down the moment Rhodan had reappeared and explained to mankind
that there was no reason to be excited. But there might still be hotheads determined to actualize their
political beliefs—no matter how.

Had he fallen into the hands of such people? The thought struck him as absurd. Right—he was a colonel.
But who, in heaven’s name, would be so naive as to believe that Perry Rhodan and the Solar Council
would change their decisions merely because their political opponents held a colonel of the Fleet as a
hostage?

The situation was confused and unpleasant. Tifflor came to the realization that he would have done better
if he had made more noise back on Goshun Road before being taken away.

It did not look as though he would have another such favourable opportunity to attract the world’s
attention to his abduction.



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