"(novel) (ebook) - Perry Rhodan 0002 - (1b) The Third Power" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

How he had got here, he did not know. He knew his name and the name of the city in which his wife was living. That was all. The hypno block that Khrest, with the help of the psychoradiator, had erected like an armoured barrier around his memory had erased all recollection of the past from his mind. No one would be able to get anything out of Fletcher that he could no longer remember.

Reg jumped to the ground and shook hands with Perry. "You can rely on me, old man. I can put Fletch down in Hong Kong or Darwin, and then IТll get the necessary spare parts and the antileukaemia serum. IТll be back in one week. Say goodbye again to Manoli and Khrest for me.""DonТt let them shoot you down, Reg.""The helicopter belongs to the army, and besides, IТve got the antigrav with me. Its effective range extends as far as six miles. Quite apart from the fact that the hand radiators and other gadgets will help me too. With those, I can trade in whole continents, if need be. Just think of the little power generators! No bigger than a cigar box, and still they can supply 200 kilowatts continuously for a hundred years. Fletch, get aboard."While the astronomer climbed into the back seat and sat down among the many boxes, Reg once again grasped his friendТs hand."Release the force field in the very instant IТve climbed up high enough. A few seconds should be sufficient. Then close the barrier again. IТll be back in a week."Perry returned to the control centre of the Stardust. As the helicopter gained altitude and approached the dome of the invisible energy bell, he thrust back a lever for five seconds. Then Reg was outside.

With relatively moderate speed, the helicopter moved toward the south, flew over a few armoured divisions at fairly low altitude and soon afterward crossed the Richthofen Mountains along their eastern limits. Then Reg turned toward the southeast and remained at an altitude of about 2,000 feet.

Late in the afternoon, without any warning, he was attacked by a fighter plane.

This incident was inexplicable, even if it were possible that someone had observed his departure. It seemed unlikely that they had left him undisturbed for so long, only to attack now.

The small plane approached from the front and fired at him. The tracers were too far to the left, but before the pilot could make correction he had already shot past. He banked in a wide circle and attacked again, this time from the side.

By now Reg had overcome his initial surprise. He held the helicopter to its course while setting his hand radiator on medium intensity. Then he directed it at the returning plane.

"Now letТs see what you can do," murmured Reg, and added intensely, "Pull up! Pull the engine straight up. Cease fire."At once the small tongues of flame darting from beneath the wings were withdrawn. The enemy aircraft began climbing on an almost vertical ascent into the clear and cloudless sky.

Reg slowly put the hand radiator down. It was already too late when he thought of issuing another command to the pilot. The distance of some two or three miles could not be bridged by the radiator.

The fighter plane continued climbing, vertically and senselessly. Even when Reg could no longer see it, it continued its ascent, already much slower. The fuel had been exhausted. Nevertheless, the pilot, now half suffocating, faithfully followed the command he had received from thin air. He kept climbing upward until the last drop of precious fuel had been consumed in the sputtering turbine.

For a second the plane seemed to stop in midair. Then it began to fall. Madly spinning in a descending spiral, it fell for miles, to shatter on the rocks of the Tsingling Shan.

Reg was shaken. He had only now begun to realize what fearful power this innocent looking ray caster meant, if one knew how to use it properly. Perhaps he should have given the pilot another order; but how could he have decided that in a fraction of a second?

He landed on the small military airport near Chun-king. From there, it was another 600 miles to Hong Kong. At first no one took any notice of him. But when he simply stopped and remained in the helicopter, a jeep arrived. A high officer climbed out and came toward him.

"Why havenТt you announced yourself?" he demanded. But then he saw RegТs face, which could not under any circumstances be mistaken for that of a Chinese. "Who are you?"Reg grinned, if only because he had heard that it was the thing to do in this part of the world. "I donТt understand a single word," he said in English. Pointing the radiator at the others, he continued, "I am Marshal Roon, and I need fuel. Please do whatever is necessary, but hurry up, will you, please?"The driver of the jeep had been included in the treatment.

The officer saluted smartly, climbed back into his jeep, and whizzed off.

Grinning, Reg waited. He turned around toward Fletcher who had been witness to the occasion. Fletcher sat with eyes half closed, uncomprehending.

"Poor guy," muttered Reg.

Five minutes later, a tanker came and stopped beside the helicopter. It was getting dark but no one bothered with the two men in the cabin anyway. The fuel tank was filled. A few reserve fuel cans were placed in the hold. The leader of the group then signalled the end of the transaction.

Nodding graciously, Reg started the engine. He could still seen the wide eyed expression on the faces of the Chinese as he took off into the copper evening sky.

The real Marshal Roon would never be able to explain to his satisfaction how Captain Fin-lai, who knew him so intimately, could swear throughout the court-martial proceedings that he had encountered him that night at the Chun-king air force base. Surely one could not be in two places at once.



It was strange.

At a distance of exactly seven miles from the Stardust, on the Koshun salt lake, a Mongolian firm (with the permission of Peking) had begun to set up facilities for the production of salt.

Bulldozers pushed mighty gaps into the shore, and earth moving machines bore away the sands. Thus were formed, not more than a yard in depth, pans into which brine could flow. When the sluice gates were closed, the sun would evaporate the water and only the salt would remain. Whole columns of trucks stood by, ready to bring the salt back to Mongolia, which belonged to the Moscow sphere of influence.

Lieutenant Klein and Li Shai-tung were forced to rest awhile, lest they become too conspicuous. As strange as the busy group of workmen may have seemed to them, there was no reason not to expect them here. The official battle against the Stardust had been ended when the futility of military tactics had finally been established. The low yield hydrogen bombs had left behind no fallout and no harmful after-effects. The troops had been moved away from the immediate vicinity of the lunar vessel.