" Perry Rhodan 0108 - (100) Desert of Deaths Domain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

but you also are talking utter nonsense, claiming you spoke with someone from my own telecom. I’m
afraid if I’d inform your superiors of your strange behaviour …"

"Just cut that bit about my superiors," snarled Dick furiously. "This is Maj. Richard Kindsom,
commander of theFlorida . Just a short while ago I received a TTT call from Dr. Zuglert and I was
informed by my communications robot that this call had originated from your station. Zuglert appealed for
help; it was quite obvious that he was in serious trouble. Our connection was broken off. Please get Dr.
Zuglert back so we can finish our talk!"

Neary gave in. After all, it was not a smart thing for an inspector to go on expressing his displeasure to a
major.

But he insisted that Zuglert had not spoken from this telecom, and besides, that a man fitting the
description given by the major had never been seen inside the Terranian Trade Mission.

"And I’ve never heard that name before, Major," he concluded his argument. "It almost looks like
you’ve fallen victim to some hoax."

Dick realized that he couldn’t get anywhere with this inspector. He called the communications robot for
the second time but the metallic voice insisted again that the TTT call had been conducted from the Trade
Mission. Dick knew it would be no use trying to contact Neary again. For awhile he considered the
possibility that he might take it upon himself to follow up the case of the mysterious Dr. Zuglert. But then
he decided that his foremost task at the moment was to return with theFlorida to Terra to receive
instructions for future missions. He contacted the nearest unit of the Terranian Fleet and gave a coded
report of the incident. He asked the commander of that ship to do his utmost to see to it that someone
came to Zuglert’s rescue.

Then he turned his attention once more to the activity which had been interrupted by the mysterious call
for help from Fering 2. He prepared for the transition and programmed the necessary data into the
automated guidance system. This was practically a routine job for him, thus allowing him to concentrate
his thoughts on Zuglert with his death’s-head face. Poor fellow, he had been so afraid for his life. He
could not banish the image of the shrunken mummy’s face from his thoughts.

He worried that their talk had been cut off. There wouldn’t be much he could tell them when he’d hand
in his report back on Earth.

At this point in time he did not realize that even the few meagre details he could supply would be enough
to set in motion a major enterprise of the Solar Empire.



****



It was a general assumption that the special agents of the Intercosmic Social Developmental Aid led an
enviable life. These special agents were that institution’s secret reserve. They were called in if some
problem no longer could be solved by the usual means. In between missions the agents occupied their
time whichever way they pleased, provided, of course, their financial situation would permit.
 Nobody unfamiliar with the purposes of the Intercosmic Social Developmental Aid, and especially their