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

"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 the Florida 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 Division 3, which was in charge of the special agents, could appreciate that this generosity was fully justified, considering the feats accomplished by them during their tours of duty. Any normal human being, given the choice, would undoubtedly have given up their vacation time for the next 10 years rather than undertake the dangerous missions of a special agent in order to obtain a sometimes quite extended vacation.
Maj. Ron Landry knew full well he would have his hands full for the next few days, weeks or even months when he received Col. Nike Quinto's summons to appear in the colonel's office.
Ron had made it his habit to get done with unpleasant business as fast as possible. Half an hour after he had the summons he was standing in front of Nike Quinto's door. He was still trying to steel himself to face Quinto's eternal bellyaching about his miserable state of health and the deplorable ineptitude of his subalterns, when suddenly the door opened. Ron Landry saw a huge writing desk with the colonel's rosy, sweating face barely peeking over the top.
Ron entered and took a seat near the desk. Nike Quinto began to move with a lot of moaning and groaning till finally part of his shoulders began to emerge from behind the tabletop.
"You are aware of my miserable state of health," he began without further ado. "So sit quiet and listen, and above all don't contradict me. My blood pressure is sky high; any aggravation might result in a stroke."
The greeting was typical for Nike Quinto, complaining about his ill health in an unpleasantly high squeaky voice. Ron Landry couldn't be fooled, tho. He knew that Quinto actually enjoyed perfect health.
"Yessir," Ron replied obediently.
"Don't yessir me!" Quinto yelped. "I haven't asked you any questions." But as quickly as his ire had been aroused, he calmed down again and continued: "Tomorrow morning you're starting out for Lepso. We've received a very strange report from there."
While part of Ron's thoughts mulled over the question where in the universe Lepso might be, he listened at the same time to Nike Quinto's tale of the peculiar TTT call Dick Kindsom had received on board the Florida. Ron also learned that Lepso was identical with Fering 2 and this realization excited his imagination. It was just that he couldn't understand ..."
"You are sure now what you have to do, Landry?" asked Quinto in his high voice.
"Yessir," Ron answered readily. "Zuglert must be found."
Nike Quinto sighed loudly and sank lower into his armchair.
"Oh, my poor heart, how can it stand all this strain," he whined. "I knew you wouldn't understand. Why do they insist on giving me such blonks! Don't they have any more capable officers! Do you really think I would send you off to Lepso just to End Zuglert? What a mess we would be in if we'd immediately dispatch one of our special agents to any weeping and wailing sick man in the universe. You missed the point, Landry!"
So what is the point? Ron wondered silently. Nike Quinto, however, took his time to supply the answer. He wiped his sweaty brow and then inspected his wet hand. Finally he spoke. "Lately, it seems, quite a few of these emaciated figures have been popping up on Lepso. Armin Zuglert is not an isolated case. And apparently the same types are never seen twice. Our informants have the impression that these shrunken mummies are carted off somewhere as soon as they make their first appearance. These unfortunate people also seem to be replaced immediately by someone else. Too bad we can't figure out the reason behind all this. Part of your job is to find out this mystery. To be quite frank with you, I'm not too sure yet what we should think about this whole affair. It might have some harmless explanation; on the other hand, it might not. Somewhere high up there," and he pointed his finger toward the ceiling, "the Zuglert case seems to have made quite a stir. The order to send one of my ... ahem ... men to Lepso came right down to me without any detours from the Administrator himself."
Ron tried hard to control himself and not let out a chuckle of amusement. It was good to know that Nike Quinto had almost allowed to slip out "one of my best men". Neither did Quinto's mentioning from where he had received his orders, namely directly from Perry Rhodan the Administrator, fail to make the proper impact on Ron Landry.
"Go into that room now," said Nike Quinto and pointed to a door in one of the side walls of his office. "Get acquainted with everything we've been able to find out so far about the mysterious Lepso affair. The program in there contains a matrix mold of the awareness and information center in Maj. Kindsom's brain. He's the commander of the Florida and he's the one who accepted the TTT call sent out by Dr. Armin Zuglert. After the session you'll feel as if you yourself had talked directly with Zuglert rather than Kindsom."
Ron Landry rose from his chair and turned to the side wall. A door opened. He peered into the dimly-lit room where the hypno-schooling apparatus was set up, all ready and waiting for him.







2/ CRAZY WORLD

Three days later Ron Landry left the space freighter Ephraim, which had brought him quite fast but not too comfortably to the spaceport Zanithon on Lepso. Almost immediately after descending from the landing ramp Ron practically jumped right into the hectic bustle of the big city.
This, he realized, was one of the peculiar things about Lepso. There was no customs shed, no passport control, no health inspection, nothing, nothing. You got off your spaceship the way elsewhere you'd get out of a taxicab and you simply went on your way. The government of this world had early recognized how advantageous the galactic position of Lepso was and had taken care that many of the ships travelling along the nearby main shipping routes would be sure to stop on Lepso and trade at least part of their commercial cargo. A most effective method of attracting traders consists in providing easy access, the least amount of difficulties they'd encounter while landing so that they could get right down to business. Therefore none of the usual formalities accompanying landing and trading procedures elsewhere in galactic ports existed in the spaceports of Lepso. Of course, Lepso's government had understood to begin with that such a policy was bound to attract not only honest traders. This caused no feelings of remorse in the hearts of the rulers of Lepso for they collected taxes and fees from both honest and dishonest business deals and money was the only thing anyhow that counted on Lepso.
Lepso was the second satellite world of a yellow-brown star resembling Terra's Sol. Nearly the same gravity as that on Earth was felt on this planet's surface; and due to the fairly narrow orbit that Lepso was describing around its central sun, temperatures like those prevalent in Rome or Cairo during the summer months were the rule on Lepso all year round.
The liberal immigration policies of the Lepso government throughout the centuries had the result that representatives of all galactic races had settled on this world. There were Topides, the intelligent lizard creatures from the planet Topid; the small cucumber-like Swoons from Swoofon; giant 3-eyed Naats from the Arkonide solar system; and a vast number of other beings, some coming from still independent worlds, about half being humanoid, the others representing nonhuman races.
This then was the world that Ron Landry came to visit now for the firstime in his life. It had been his desire to do this for a long time. Little did he dream, tho, that a tour of duty would finally make this dream come true, for Lepso out of all the galactic worlds seemed to be the one least in need of an intervention from the Intercosmic Developmental Social Aid.
The dull gray asphalt surface of the spaceport was bordered by a greenish, fluorescent lacquered line. Beyond it was a road, a monstrously wide road, at least 200 meters across, which led to the city. Lined up parallel, very close to this green line, a number of gliders could be seen, whose inscriptions, mainly in Arkonide writing, announced they were for hire, including the driver.
Ron decided to take such a taxi to drive downtown. Besides, he doubted there was any other way of getting there. But first he wanted to observe for awhile the traffic rushing by on this wide road. A strange variety of all kinds of vehicles roared by in both directions, all seemingly moving at the same daredevil speed, which Ron guessed to be around 200 kilometers an hour. This was an indication that this road must be equipped with an automatic, radio-guided direction system. The vehicles travelling along the road represented all the various makes known throughout the galaxy. There were the streamlined Arkonide gliders with their wide windows, the less sleek but sturdier Fords from Earth. Ron saw some old-fashioned, tall carriages that offered a great deal of resistance to the air above the road and which trailed behind them a small tornado, and then the flat, boat-like vehicles originating from those worlds where the atmosphere's density necessitated such shapes.
Ron Landry chuckled to himself. There was really no reason for him to do so and he didn't even know what in particular he was laughing about. It was just a general impression that tickled his funnybone to see this crazy mishmash of galactic so-called intelligent beings racing hither and thither with the sole purpose of making money, making some profit. For this was the only reason anybody would come to Lepso.
The grinning face of the driver of the taxi-glider nearest to Ron leaned out of the window.
"Hey, Earthman," he called out. "What's so funny? You need a ride to town?"
Ron looked at him astonished: the man addressed him in English! Ron stepped closer to the vehicle.
"That depends on your price," he answered.
"Two solars to the center of the city," the driver replied promptly.
Ron's eyebrows shot up, even more puzzled than before.
"Since when are they quoting prices in Terranian currency here on Lepso?"