" Perry Rhodan 0124 - (115b-116b) The Psycho Duel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

rebels were still ensconced around the burning building and were starting to celebrate their victory. If at
this moment the Arkonide felt any regrets they were related more to his own losses than to those of the
Imperium.

Sooner or later those in power would be swept aside by another revolution, new names would emerge
and new usurpers would decide the fate of Zalit. Zalit was a restless world because the colonists were
never satisfied. Their centuries-long fight for independence had left them excitable and perpetually unruly.
The only way-to overcome them would be by the intervention of the Fleet.

But the Terran had told him that no ships would be coming here. For Henno, Zalit was merely a small
episode in his life; for Tate it had been a mere assignment to intrigue and battle; for the rebel—a symbol
of freedom. For many men a planet could mean many things. It all depended on the point of view.

As Henno saw the countryside glide past beneath him was only vaguely aware of movement and colour.
He was staring at the broad back of the Terran who was bent over the flight controls. He thought
fleetingly that he might be able to strike him down from behind but he dismissed the idea because he
knew only too well how dependent he was upon this agent.

"Alright," said Tate finally; "now I can tell you finally what happened to those ships you alerted with your
distress call." He turned around, supporting himself casually on the barrel of Granny, and began to tell his
story.



****



The mission directive came through a few minutes after 07:00, standard time. Commodore Michael
Fellman was on board the heavy cruiserTroy , which was scouting certain regions of star cluster M-13
along with 6 light cruisers and a backup escort of 44 robotships of the Greater Imperium.

As he took the dispatch from his Com Officer, MacDanies, he said: "Give them a confirmation, Sparks.
We’ll lay a course for Zalit at once."

Fellman was a quiet type who almost gave the impression of being melancholy but it was said of him that
he was unusually capable. His blond hair was combed back flat against his head and carefully parted. His
heavy eyebrows gave him a gloomy expression. No one had ever heard him laugh out loud and when he
spoke it was merely with a movement of his lips like a toothless old man.

The Commodore was never unfriendly but at times there was a barely perceptible note of scorn in his
voice. He and the crew always communicated with a reserve that was neither sullen nor tense. It was
merely the result of Fellman’s taciturnity which in a way was reassuring. He had graduated from the
Space Academy with honours and his missions had been successful.

"It’s a personal order from the Administrator," Fellman explained to his First Officer, who was an
African named Donald Suwari. "Our task group is to fly immediately to Zalit. There’s an uprising there
and the Imperial representative, a certain Salor Henno, has put out a call for help. Meanwhile we’ll get in
touch with our Zalit agent, Wayne Tate.
 Suwari’s eyes flashed brightly in his dark face. He smiled. "I know Tate, sir. We were on a mission