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Perry Rhodan 080 Caves Of The Druufs #72

1/ PRISONERS OF THE DRUUFS

THE THING looked like an organ. It consisted of metal cylinders which were rigidly connected and decreased in size from right to left. The thing stood against the wall and seemed to be there for no purpose other than to bewilder the four prisoners.

For three days it had been accomplishing this task. Then the prisoners had begun to regard it with more than mere contemplative attention. They had attempted to take it apart and had succeeded to a certain degree. Now, at this moment, Perry Rhodan was kneeling in front of one of the opened organ pipes, wondering what would happen if he were to press the little lever that protruded from the tangle of wires, glass rods, plastic bars and thumbwheels.

Not that he had any choice in regard to the lever. They had worked hard to open a few of the organ pipes and after all that work it would have been ridiculous to stop now, just because no one knew which effect it triggered.

Perry Rhodan looked around. Behind him Atlan the Arkonide, Reginald Bell and the mutant Fellmer Lloyd were sitting expectantly in bandy-legged, monstrous armchairs. None of them seemed to be frightened, they were all simply curious. For three days they had roamed through a series of subterranean rooms the Druufs had placed at the disposal of their prisoners. After ascertaining that there was no promising exit anywhere, they had finally returned to the organ which now captured their attention because of all the furnishings in the subterranean prison, it was the only piece whose function they did not know.

With pocketknives, little metal screws they had removed from the chairs and similar utensils they succeeded in removing the cover panelling of three of the organ pipes. What appeared underneath did not provide any definite conclusion about the significance of the device. All that was adjustable on the thing without breaking something was the position of the lever.

Perry Rhodan placed his finger on the small piece of metal. "Here goes," he said. "Hold your breath. We don't know what will happen!"

Rhodan increased the pressure of his finger. He felt the little lever begin to yield. For one second Perry Rhodan wondered why absolutely nothing happened. Then suddenly it felt as if someone had landed a powerful blow on his shoulders. His arm sank, his hand with it, and in the process his finger pulled the little lever all the way down.

Somebody screamed. Perry Rhodan felt like screaming himself. Something was pushing him down with overpowering might. He lunged forward and tried to brace himself with his hands but a few moments later his arms buckled under. He fell headlong to the floor. The fall took away his breath and conjured a colourful world of fiery circles before his eyes.

The pressure did not lessen. It squeezed the air out of Rhodan's lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe. Rhodan realized with painful clarity that he would have to undertake something if he were to avoid becoming unconscious.

When he had depressed the lever he had anticipated so many things that he needed a few seconds to properly evaluate the effect it had actually produced.

The organ was an antigrav generator. Pressing the lever resulted in a five or six-fold intensification of the artificial gravity field within the subterranean room.

That was disappointing, fulfilling none of the expectations Perry Rhodan had held. However, his expectations were of lesser significance at that moment. Most important of all was to return the lever to its previous position.

He knew that he could not manage to prop himself up with his arms. The weight imparted to him by the artificial gravity field was too great, so he rolled over on his side, leaned on his right shoulder and tried to raise his left arm. Finally he managed. The next problem was that this time he had to shove the lever upward, which was considerably more difficult than the reverse had been. But he managed this as well.

When his work was completed Perry Rhodan remained prone for awhile. He needed time to properly catch his breath and to banish the feeling of numbness from his body. Then he cautiously rose to his feet.

The picture that presented itself was provokingly comical. The bow-legged armchairs had been unable to withstand the greatly increased weight of their occupants and had collapsed. Atlan and Fellmer Lloyd were stretched out unconscious between the shattered pieces. Reginald Bell had been less affected by the gravity shock. He was holding tight to two pieces of plastic wood, the only parts of his armchair still erect, and staring at the organ in equal amazement and fury.

"Is that all?" he sullenly inquired. Perry Rhodan shrugged. "Seems like it," he replied. Reginald Bell stood up. The two remaining parts of his chair clattered to the ground.

"Then we could have saved ourselves the trouble," he grumbled peevishly. "For one entire day we fooled around with that thing and it does nothing more after all than regulate an artificial gravity field." He gave the smallest of the organ pipes a contemptuous kick.

"Well, now... you call that nothing?" asked Perry Rhodan. Reginald Bell and Perry Rhodan knew each other well enough to tell by the partner's tone of voice whether he had a new idea or not.

Bell looked baffled. "Right offhand I still don't see anything," he carefully answered, "but perhaps you would give me a hint?"

Rhodan smiled.

At that moment Atlan, who had regained consciousness, arose from the shambles of his chair. He seemed to have heard the last sentences of the conversation. "Temporally variable gravitation fields," he casually said as if nothing had happened. "dG after dt, the product of the gravitation emitter, simultaneously proportional to the gravity mechanical induction... doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Reginald Bell widened his eyes and gazed fixedly at the furthermost comer of the room.

"It does indeed," he finally replied. "But I am afraid that the Druufs will not look kindly upon it, if we turned their antigrav into a teletype!"