"Chapter 05" - читать интересную книгу автора ((novel) (ebook) - Perry Rhodan 0127 - (119) Between the Galaxies [HTML])

5/ THE NIGHTMARE SHIP

Two by two the crewmen of the BOB 21 arrived on board the waiting "factory" cruiser. 24 men were received through the transmitter but for the time being the 25th man was missing.

This caused Nike Quinto to convert his plans into action as soon as possible.

As he figured it, if the question concerning a "true life form" indicated that the signaller was a robot, then there was only one practical way of confronting such entities: you sent a robot to face them. He felt that the alien questioner had wanted to know if they were also robots or some kind of organic life form.

He had to admit, however, that there were probably 3 dozen other explanations which could be as valid as this one. Yet this was the only direction he could take effectively and in a hurry. So he grasped the one opportunity out of 3 dozen rather than stand idle and allow them all to be lost.

On board the Joann there was only one action-ready robot: Meech Hannigan. It was a strange irony of fate, however, that Meech happened to be provided with a human like covering of synthetic flesh and skin tissues which were in a sense alive and therefore made him actually unsuitable for the mission, in spite of his real body of plastic metal and positronic circuits. No one, not even another robot, would have taken Meech for a robot. He was simply too human in his appearance.

Of course this wasn’t too much of an obstacle for Nike Quinto, and anyway he didn’t intend to send Meech alone on his journey. His companion would be a human, but one who would be disguised for the mission. In fact Quinto also had a disguise prepared for Meech himself. This consisted of a sort of metallic armour which was not unlike a suit of mail such as had been used on Earth in medieval times. The main difference was that various outer details had been designed so that its wearer would look less like a knight but more like a genuine robot.

Meech’s companion in arms was to be Ron Landry, and he was provided with the same kind of camouflage. After donning the metal suit he could only be distinguished from Meech by the number on the headplate of his helmet. This was also for realism because naturally robots were numbered. But the history of Meech Hannigan was to be recorded henceforth in the annals of the Terran spacefleet as "the case of the robot disguised as a robot"—even though at the moment, considering the uncertainty of the situation, nobody felt overly disposed to laughter.

Without further delay, Ron and Meech prepared to leave, both of them armed to the teeth. The transmitter receivers on board the BOB 21 were remotely activated. The Joann’s instruments indicated that the station’s equipment was still in order. So Ron and Meech took the leap. So far, there was still no trace of Eric Furchtbar.

*

The two adventurers arrived without hindrance in the BOB 21’s transmitter room, which they found to be empty. However, there was an odour in the air that hinted of a short-circuit somewhere. It was a stench of burned or melted insulation.

Before leaving the Joann, Ron had gotten a short report of what happened in the generator room. He knew about Eric Furchtbar’s strange success with his hand disintegrator after the much heavier thermo beamers had proven themselves completely ineffective. Thus he followed the same plan of action which Eric had used but minutes before. He placed his back to both transmitter cages so that they wouldn’t be damaged, and then swept the room with a fanned out disintegrator beam.

The general effect was zero. Judging by what information he had so far, this meant that no one was in the room except the two of them. Ron was disappointed. He had hoped to either find Eric Furchtbar here, or one of the invisibles. When he had learned that Eric hadn’t arrived on board the Joann he had assumed that he had remained behind in order to guard the transmitters.

It had seemed to be a logical conclusion. Even if the phantoms had located Eric here and done away with him, then at least one of their kind should have been here.

But now Ron realized that his reasoning had been false. He ordered Meech to open the hatch door. Meech complied and stepped outside halfway into the corridor. Nothing happened. He looked to the right and the left of him and also checked his surroundings with all of his superhuman sensor equipment. In the end he reported to Ron that the "coast" was clear.

After finding the transmitter room empty, the place Ron was most interested in was the main control room of the station. He and Meech were well acquainted with the layout of the BOB 21, so they had no difficulty in finding their way. The only question was whether or not the invisible aliens would let them get that far.

They went along the passage to one of the antigrav shafts. Meech had taken the lead in accordance with the traditional rules of the spacefleet. Whenever robots took part on a mission" they formed the advance guard and fought in the most dangerous positions. Meech was no exception but he wasn’t sensitive about it. His positronic program didn’t provide for such a reaction.

They drifted cautiously up the shaft to the central deck. Everywhere in the station was the same echoing emptiness, the same deadly and uncanny silence. Like in a tomb, Ron thought uneasily. A tomb that was 5000 light years out from the rim of the Milky Way. The phantoms had to be somewhere!

Perhaps they were below in the power room, he thought fleetingly. They had been trying to do something with the generators. He recalled Art Cavanaugh’s hasty report. The Com Room had been supplied with more power than the equipment then in operation had been able to stand. Maybe all the aliens had really wanted to do was provide themselves with more power, without knowing how the equipment functioned. If the attack in the Com Room were correctly analysed, what it amounted to that they had already sent out one quick radio message, possibly a distress call. It could be that they were trying to do it again only this time with maximum transmitting power.

But it could also be that this guess missed the mark by a long shot. Maybe they needed the tremendous output for an entirely different reason. Art Cavanaugh had said that most of the equipment had been intact when he left the Com Room. Otherwise, under the mighty full power load they would have long since gone up in smoke. This indicated that the additional current was being tapped off and conducted to some unknown place.

But where? - and to what purpose?

When Meech reached the central deck level he swung out of the shaft cautiously after concealing himself a few seconds at the opening. Then he stepped out into the corridor, followed by Ron.

A new thought came to Ron. The energy employed by the hyper transmitter had the same structure as...

He was interrupted. Meech flew at him as if shot from a cannon. The two suits of armour collided with a loud crash and Ron was flung to the deck, knocking his chin against a helmet hinge in the process. Meech was lying on top of him, and a second later it seemed that this had saved his life.

He would never have been able to react as quickly as the robot. Peering from under Meech’s armour he could see a glaring flood of red light coming from the end of the passage. In frozen surprise he noted that the brilliant light advanced slowly and sluggishly, almost looking like oil, toward the spot where the two Terrans were lying on the floor. The light emanated a glowing heat wave in front of it. Ron could feel it through his metal covering and he noted that the plating on the walls was blistering and starting to bubble.

Without hesitation, Meech retaliated. With a breath-taking swiftness that was not in the least impeded by his heavy mail, he jerked out his disintegrator. It was no hand gun such as Eric had used but rather a heavy automatic weapon that was like a miniature cannon. With a loud hissing and humming the green ray stormed through the passage toward the red fire.

When the two fires met there was an ear-splitting explosion. Ron felt Meech’s ponderous weight lifted from him as the robot was blasted halfway into the antigrav shaft. Once relieved of his protective load, Ron was also gripped by the mighty rush of air and was shoved along the passage.

Up ahead there was a wild shriek but nobody could be seen. Ron had also heard that the invisibles let out such yells when they were hit by disintegrator fire. He then perceived the advantage that Meech’s lightning reaction had given them.

"Forward, Meech!" he shouted.

With an almost inimitable grace, the heavy robot swung out of the shaft and landed on his feet. This time Ron was not concerned about using him for cover. They charged forward, shoulder to shoulder, and before long they arrived at the small continuation of the corridor that led to the control room door.

No one blocked their way. The red fire had vanished. Only the walls still retained their ugly blisters and the air was still scalding hot. Meech held watch while Ron opened the hatch door. It seemed to have been affected by the heat because it took a few moments before it sluggishly slid to one side with a complaining, screeching sound.

Ron had his weapon in firing position as he started to enter. In fact he had the trigger half depressed, ready to sweep the room with a fanned-out beam, but suddenly he saw the burnished barrel of a weapon sticking out of the hatchway and it was pointed directly at his mid-section.

With a warning shout he ducked to one side. Meech whirled around, raising his heavy automatic.

If it hadn’t been for Meech’s wonderful ability to react with lightning swiftness, a tragedy might have occurred at that moment. Unimpeded by the weight of the automatic, his steel sheathed hand shot forward. Ron heard a clattering blow and a cry of pain. He couldn’t see what was happening beyond the angle of the door. Something metallic rattled to the floor. Then all was still.

Until Meech was heard to say: "Excuse me, sir, but you might have fired before we had a chance to explain the situation." Ron heard somebody sigh. Then Eric Furchtbar’s voice answered in slightly hoarse tones: "You’re probably right - and I thank you!"

*

Ron straightened up with a sense of relief. Eric came through the hatchway as Ron explained their identities. He saluted the major weakly.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed fervently. "I thought I was going to have to handle everything by myself." They all entered the control room together. The door closed behind them. Eric picked up the disintegrator that Meech had knocked from his hand. With a pained expression he shook his arm and then massaged his wrist.

"What’s happening here?" asked Ron. "Any new developments?" Eric made a wry grimace. "I wish I knew, Major. The only thing I know for sure is that the station is swarming with these invisible aliens. It’s a shame the way they’re fooling around with our generators. And that I’m sure of, too. I don’t know what they’re trying to do with them but I think I know why they came on board."

Ron raised a querulous brow. "Oh? Why?"

"Their ship out there—about 3 minutes ago it blew up. They must have had a nuclear fire going on board, or something of the sort. I don’t know if that’s what caused them to collide with us or if it had something to do with the war they were fighting out in the abyss somewhere—but at any rate they probably saw that their chances were gone where their own ship was concerned. That’s why they transferred over to us. And now they’re getting ready for something but I haven't any idea of what it could be."

This last remark made Ron wary. "They’re preparing for something, you say?"

"Yes, of course," Eric assured him. "Just look at the instruments. The generators are acting up like crazy. They’d never do that by themselves, so somebody has to be fooling around with them continuously - and I’d say in a frenzied hurry. If that doesn’t mean they’re expecting something to happen pretty quickly, and that they’re trying to get ready for it..." He left the rest of the thought unexpressed.

Ron recalled that some idea had come to him suddenly just before the aliens had unleashed their red fire as he was coming out of the antigrav shaft but he couldn’t remember now what it was. In its place came another thought.

"They’ve never shot at you, is that right?" he asked Eric.

"No, and I thought that was very strange. They always used their fists as if they were unarmed. Just once they used something sharp that left a trace like a knife slice. Here, look!" He showed Ron the backs of his hands so that he could see the faint cuts but was almost insulted when the latter failed to be impressed.

Instead, Ron turned abruptly to the robot. "Then why did they shoot at us...?" The question came out like a shot from a gun.

"Because they took us for robots," was Meech’s answer, which was returned with equal swiftness.

Eric Furchtbar’s eyes widened with sudden comprehension. "So that’s it!" he exclaimed. "I’ve been wondering all this time why you were hauling that strange-looking armour around."

The other two ignored him for the moment. He wanted to ask them what they were thinking of on board the Joann in sending men to the station disguised as robots. He didn’t know that Meech Hannigan was actually a robot. However, when he saw that Ron was busy with his own thoughts he decided to remain silent.

After pondering over Meech’s answer a few seconds, Ron nodded. "Sounds logical," he agreed. "The invisibles don’t intend to destroy organic life as long as they can avoid it—but they don’t have the same consideration for robots. They shoot at them wherever they encounter them. Meech confirmed this line of reasoning but added: "That’s a valid assumption as long as we can presume that the aliens’ way of thinking is related to ours."

Ron thought this over. Somehow he had not considered these aliens as having a different form of reasoning than what would be the norm in his own galaxy, but now he remembered the warning.

"They shot at you?" asked Eric in surprise.

"Yes—with a weapon that generated a sort of Greek fire. It creeps slowly along the corridor and is devilishly hot. It is a gleaming red colour. If Meech hadn’t reacted quickly it might have been curtains for us."

"That’s strange," muttered Eric. "In our case they never—" Ron interrupted him. "It makes it all the more evident, doesn’t it, that they were having their big battle out there with robots...?"

"That’s one of a 100 different possibilities. Don’t forget, sir, that we have practically nothing to go on."

"Yes, and I guess we don’t even know if they think at all as we do."

It was frustrating. Normally whenever one took up a thread of reasoning and followed it, in a very short time it fell into place somehow with the basic standards of logic. You could do this with Arkonides and even with the Ferronians and the Swoons and maybe even with the serpents of Passa - but not with entities who came from an alien galaxy.

Ron turned to look at the indicators Eric had mentioned. The meters were in an uproar, most of them showing readings in the upper limits of their scales. In fact some had passed the red line. The aliens were overloading the generators.

"Now you can see why I came back up here," said Eric. "In the transmitter station I could only watch the two cages but up here I can monitor everything."

"Have they been fooling around with the transmitters?" asked Ron.

Eric shook his head negatively. "No—everything is calm in that area."

"Were you attacked on your way back here?"

"There wasn’t a trace of them. Except for the Com Room and the power room, the BOB 21 is empty."

This brought Ron back to the thought that had escaped him before. They had turned on all the generators and had channelled the total output into the Com Room. Why? What were they trying to do? Ron recalled that his vague idea had something to do with related forms of energy—and then it suddenly came to him again.

The alternating field of a hyper transmission was related to the stationary field of a defence screen in the same way as an electromagnetic field was to one that consisted of an intersecting electrostatic and magnetic field. And one could rectify hyperfrequencies, of course, just as easily as those in the electromagnetic range.

Was that it? Were the phantoms merely attempting to beef up the defence screen? For a brief moment it seemed to Ron Landry that he had a clearer picture of the situation than he had ever had before.

Then Eric Furchtbar gave a shout. "We’re getting another message!"

It startled Ron from his train of thought. Ever since the BOB 21 had received the first alien hypercom signals, the small scope in the main control room had been coupled to the Com Room equipment. Until now the small circular screen had not shown anything but a confused tracing of interference that was caused by the feverish activity with the generators but now it revealed a clearly amplified wave pattern. About one and a half cycles of the carrier wave were encompassed by the screen but it was spiked with numerous modulation patterns.

"That’s the old one again – about a true life form!" announced Eric excitedly. "The pattern is unmistakable!" The image remained on the screen a few seconds and then vanished. Ron would have preferred going down to the Com Room and running the recorder strip through the positronics for verification but the aliens were down there and besides, nobody was on duty in the computer room. Even if he could have obtained the tape he would have had to run the positronics himself, and at the moment he didn’t have time for it. So he took Eric’s word - that it was the same message as before. Why were they asking this again? They had already received their answer several times.

Another thought came to him. "Have you any way of telling whether or not the wave pattern is clearer and more amplified this time than when it was last received... or is it weaker...?"

"This was much stronger than the last time." Eric’s answer came without hesitation, which meant he was sure of the difference.

Ron’s tension increased. Hyper transmission was one of the wonders of modern technology but no matter how wonderful it was it couldn’t violate natural laws. You had to receive signals from a near source more strongly than you would from a distant source. The first message received by the BOB 21 had come from a distance of about 400 light years but this latest reception was much clearer. Therefore, the distance had changed.

Somebody else was approaching the BOB 21!

Ron told Eric to answer the call the same as he had before. Eric went to the small control panel that enabled him to operate the Com Room equipment. He pressed a few buttons and smiled faintly.

"I hope it’s still working," he commented. "Who knows what those characters may have done in the meantime?"

Seconds later the oscilloscope registered the wave pattern of the outgoing signal. It was coded the same way as the aliens’ message. No one could tell from the scope what the content of the answering message was but Eric claimed that there was only one prepared program strip in this transmitter. It had to be the right one.

Ron Landry forced himself to be calm because he had to think clearly. He wondered if he should try making contact with the invisibles but he rejected this idea before long. Eric and his men had spent a lot of time on that without the slightest success. He was sure that the second alien ship whose message they had just received would show up very soon. He was almost equally certain that this second ship would be bringing the enemies of their present unseen visitors, because the wave pattern of the received signal was basically different from the message the invisibles had sent out previously. Therefore there were just two types of aliens out here in intergalactic space—the invisibles, and their enemies, whoever they might be.

Ron went over this chain of logic repeatedly, attempting to find an error in reasoning. He searched for places where either one of the alien actions might be attributed to a mode of thinking different than his but he found no loopholes. The chain of reasoning was like a puzzle whose pieces fit into each other. It had to be the way he had figured it—or they had overlooked something.

But then again this present situation would explain why the invisibles were trying to strengthen the station’s defence screen. In some way they had learned about the imminent arrival of their enemies. Probably they didn’t believe the screen had enough protective power in its normal state, and that’s why they were beefing it up. This might also explain why they had not responded to Eric’s previous attempts to contact them. They needed every spare second to prepare for an attack by the enemy.

Ron turned and looked questioningly at Meech Hannigan, and Meech understood.

"My analysis, sir..." he began, and then he proceeded to give the same arguments and logical conclusions that Ron had already thought out by himself.

Eric Furchtbar stared at them in wide-eyed amazement as he listened.

For him the past few hours had been too hectic for him to get into the deeper whys and wherefores of the situation. He was still trying to recover from the shock of the first ship’s sudden appearance.

"Do you really believe," he said excitedly, "that still another vessel has set a course for the station?" Ron nodded. He was about to answer him but Meech made a surprising breach of regulations by cutting in on him quickly.

"There’s nothing much more to argue about, sir. There are the other aliens already!" The alien ship fairly leapt into the viewscreen. A half a second before it had not been there but now it filled more than ѕths of the main screen. It had arrived without the slightest hyper shockwave disturbance.

Ron instantly realized that this was a new type of transition. He was about to marvel at it but all his wonderment concerning the strange ship’s propulsion was swept aside by the shock of its outward appearance. He was only vaguely aware of a groan of dismay from Eric’s tall figure beside him, and it could have been that he also let out a groan. It was impossible that anyone could be insane enough to design such a ship.

It looked as if it had once been cubical but its structure had been bent out of shape. What remained was a completely erratic geometrical creation with a basically octagonal pattern. Since the BOB 21 provided them with artificial gravity, the observing Terrans had a sense of up and down, so what they thought they saw was a looming vertical wall directly in front of them. It ended in a sloping edge, beyond which they could make out one of the deck surfaces, a trapezoidal plane that slanted steeply up to the farther edge or nether wall of the hull. The left sidewall stood out at a grotesque angle. On the viewscreen, nothing could be seen of the righthand wall. It was probably indented.

Although such was the general shape of the vessel its sides and deck areas were anything but even. There were bays and turrets, domes and other projections as well as a confusing maze of niches and channels. Out of the domes towered rod-shaped protrusions covered with stiff fanlike shapes. In the indented areas gleamed varicoloured lights. From the bays, heavy three-pronged and fourpronged forks emerged into space, and a lively movement of some kind was to be seen on the mound-like elevations. Not even Meech could make out what the movement was or what it was supposed to accomplish.

This gave Ron an idea. It was fairly illogical and that was why Meech hadn’t thought of it. Ron knew that objects moving on the outside of an intergalactic spaceship had to have some limitation of size but those things over there were neither bugs nor humans. They must have been as big as lifeboats or observation modules. At least he thought so. There was no comparison, however, that he could judge by.

But if he was right, the alien ship was a giant. Until now he had thought the vessel was only a few km away from the station but after all it had just emerged from hyper space—and not even an intergalactic commander would terminate a transition so close to his target. So the monster was farther distant, and judging by that it would have to be much larger than he had thought.

Those angular sides had to be at least 2 km across. It was only a rough estimate but Ron was startled nevertheless. The alien monstrosity was even larger than the mightiest super battleship of the Terran spacefleet.

It left Ron severely shaken. For a few tense moments he stood there waiting for some gun ports to open up out there and for a mighty blast of deadly energy to come flashing at them. But the seconds passed without event. The weird, fragmented crate thing merely hung there motionlessly in the void.

Then Ron began to wonder what these new aliens were waiting for. It seemed as if they had actually been waiting for him to have the thought because in the next moment the oscilloscope came to life again. He glanced at it only briefly before he turned to Eric.

"Is that the same as before?" he asked.

Eric studied the scope with wide, wondering eyes. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "That’s the same old question!"

Ron almost barked an order. "Then give them the same old answer again!"

This time it took Eric a while longer because he was somewhat perplexed and confused. His hands seemed to grope aimlessly over the keyboard of the control panel. He preset a few buttons, then cancelled with a correction switch, but finally he found what he wanted. The frequency pattern of the answer appeared on the oscilloscope screen, which was connected with the Com Room.

Ron watched the fragmented space monster tensely, knowing that the aliens there would have to receive this answer. Since the message was structured in their own code they wouldn’t take long in deciphering it. So what would they do now?

Ron was often to recall later how startled and surprised he was to get the first reaction from an entirely unexpected source.

While he was still staring at the viewscreen the hatch door opened behind him. Meech was the only one who noticed it and he shouted a warning. Ron whirled around, noting out of a corner of his eye that Eric Furchtbar threw himself to one side.

Of course he didn’t think that would help him much. Through the bulkhead opening surged a tidal wave of blood-red brilliance that filled the room almost at once with a suffocating heat.

*

It was strange how silently the ambush happened. After Meech’s warning cry the first thing Ron heard was the breaking of glassite meter and indicator faceplates under the blistering heat. Synthetic glass splinters were falling to the floor like hail. Meech raised his heavy disintegrator and in an almost instantaneous movement he brought the destroying green energy beam into play. It sang out with an irresistible force against the red wall of fire.

The effect was seen immediately. The scarlet flame drew back, forming an indentation before the impact of Meech’s ray. To the right and left of that cleft, the outer arms of the flame came to a momentary halt but then they crept forward again. Ron also started firing. The considerably finer beam of his hand weapon struck the left wing of the flame front and at first it seemed that he wasn’t stopping it in the least. But then the progress of the heat flood became slower, and after a while it came to a stop completely.

Now Eric Furchtbar came into the battle, aiming the beam of his disintegrator at the righthand front of the flame. However small his weapon, it made the difference. The red fire receded, at first slowly; then it flowed back with increasing speed, finally disappearing through the hatchway. The door could no longer close because it had ceased to exist. The fire had consumed it.

Ron got to his feet, now feeling the full impact of the terrible heat, to which he had been exposed for several minutes. His skin was burning and he could only move very slowly. Wherever his metal armour touched his clothing it burned a hole and brought blisters to his hide..

Eric had more freedom of movement because he wasn’t wearing a coat of mail. He was able to jump up without pain and get to the control panel. The most unscathed of course was Meech. Heat did not affect him unless it exceeded 1000° Centigrade. His first glance was at the viewscreen. Since he saw Ron was slow to turn about he reported.

"The alien ship has not moved from its position, sir!"

Ron’s metallic armour was rapidly losing its heat. He finally managed to face the screen again, which was apparently the only equipment in the control room that was still functioning. Its covering glassite plate was thicker than the others. Also, it had been the farthest removed from the reddish heat glow.

Meech was right. The strange ship was still in the same place. Ron suddenly comprehended. It wasn’t the strangers out there who had attacked them but the invisible phantoms here on board the station. The red fire weapon was proof enough of that. It all came clear to him. The invisibles had the com Room under their control. They must have noted that the station had sent out two messages in short succession, which contained the same set of signals. Perhaps they knew the enemy code. Then they would know, of course, that their enemy regarded himself as a "true life form" and would only be a friend of those who were living entities like themselves.

The situation was not without its humorous irony. Ron himself had approved a confirmation of the alien question. But while he had sought to satisfy one enemy he alienated the other. Because apparently the invisibles hated anything that was "true life" like their enemy, with whom they had been waging war out between the stellar islands.

They had observed the arrival of the alien ship the same as the Terrans had, up in the control room. When the question was transmitted again and confirmed once more in the same format, they had sought to retaliate. When a mighty enemy ship was outside they couldn’t afford also to have enemies right under their noses on board the station.

What would they do now? Their at tack had been repulsed. It looked as if they knew of no weapon that could stand up against a Terran disintegrator. Would they try it again? Perhaps at a point in time when they figured the Terrans would have their attention focussed elsewhere. Ron decided to keep his eyes open. But first of all that angular ship out there was the most important consideration. It appeared to be much deadlier than the red fire weapon of the phantoms.

Ron observed that in the meantime his armour had cooled off enough for him to move about without being agonized.

He sent Meech outside the room to stand guard because he didn’t want to be surprised again. Meech obeyed willingly. Ron and Eric concentrated their attention on the viewscreen.

After a few minutes the nightmarish ship began to move. It was a breathtaking experience to watch the vast, angular edges and corners of the monster as they ran off the limits of the big screen and finally left them facing a metal wall with its hundreds of outcroppings and corners and niches and turrets.

"They’re coming over" said Eric.

The thought sent a chill through Ron but his voice was steady when he answered. "That’s just what we’re waiting for."

There was nothing more he could say. There was no other purpose to their vigilance here. Yet he had hardly spoken before he realized there was a possibility he hadn’t thought of until now. It was the possibility, in fact, that the phantoms might know how to operate the BOB 21’s gun positions.

*

There was no doubt anymore that they knew how.

A pale blue shimmer of battle rays swept across the viewscreen. The broad, canted surface of the ship wall out there flared suddenly with an unreal, flickering light.

Defence screens, thought Ron. Naturally they would have powerful defence screens.

Forgetting his own situation, Ron watched the battle in fascination. The crossing ray beams were coming from at least two of the station’s gun turrets. The phantoms were handling the weapons with maximum expertise. With apparent ease they brought 5 pale green disintegrator beams together over the surface of the angular ship. The enemy defence screen glowed white hot. A jerking pattern of yellow and rose-coloured lightwaves travelled over the steep wall. It seemed as if the screen hadn’t been ready for such a tremendous load all at once.

At the same time Ron could see that the brilliant beams of the thermo cannons were no match for the ungainly looking monster. The defence screen glowed faintly where the thermo rays struck it. There was no jerking wave pattern of lights as a consequence. Yet the average power of the thermo cannons was much greater than that of the disintegrators.

Ron was so gripped by the unusual spectacle that he only thought of his own position when the misshapen vessel opened its counter-offensive. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening. Something seemed to come between the canted wall of the ship and the viewscreen—like a thin curtain of heated air, dancing and shimmering.

In the next instant such a terrific jolt ran through the station that Ron and Eric were knocked off their feet. The deck of the control room slanted suddenly and the two men slid helplessly toward the open hatchway. The full realization of their danger came to Ron now. The BOB 21’s screen weren’t the strongest available by any means, even though the invisibles may have reinforced them. Who could know what reserves of power the odd-angled alien Behemoth possessed?

The shock of the impact ebbed away in receding waves of force. When Ron got to his feet again he saw the deadpan "helmet" face of Meech looking in through the hatchway.

"To the transmitters!" Ron shouted.

"Check the route for any resistance!" Meech complied immediately and went ahead. Ron helped Eric to his feet and by the time they got out into the corridor their robot companion was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on!" Ron urged. "We have to get out of here. Those idiots in the gun bays—they’re not going to accomplish anything except get this station blown up by that flying fortress!"

As they staggered through the passage a second great jolt struck the defence screen and caused the deck under them to sway. The walls and bulkheads groaned under the strain. The fragmented ship’s giant salvos were too powerful for the screen to even absorb the mechanical impact.

The dark opening of the antigrav shaft loomed closer and finally Ron simply shoved Eric in ahead of him. Before following him he took one last look around. No sign of the phantoms. There was no red fire now. The invisibles had their hands full to just stay alive.

They sank downward on the grav field into the lower depths. Once Ron caught a glimpse of Meech peeking up from an exit below. Apparently he saw the two of them because when they came out on the transmitter deck he had already gone ahead to clear the way and give them coverage.

Unchallenged, they reached the station where the transmitter cages were showing green lights already. So far everything was in order. But at that moment the BOB 21 received another hit, and this time the effects were much worse.

Ron had a strange sensation which made it seem as if the room was spinning around him. His helmet, shoulders, arms and legs crashed against the walls. He was bounced back and forth but finally came to rest in a fairly benumbed state.

Nearby, somebody groaned. Eric!

Ron got up and saw Eric lying by a wall with his eyes closed. He had evidently been knocked out. He grasped him under the arms and dragged him to the nearest sender cage. With one hand he tried to open the wire-mesh door of the cubicle. He shoved down the lock handle and pulled on it but the door didn’t budge.

He stared in puzzlement at the control lamp and saw that it had gone out. The power had been interrupted. The transmitters weren’t operating now. For a moment he was seized by a rising panic until he noticed that the other cage was apparently unimpaired. The green indicator lamp was still on. Laboriously, he dragged Eric across a space of 4 meters, and this time the cage door opened for him at once. Ron shoved Eric’s long, limp body inside and arranged it so that he could close the door.

Then he ran to the switchboard, pulled down the start lever and depressed the release button. A gentle mist appeared in the cage and then was gone. So was Eric—to safety.

Ron remained by the switch panel. "Meech!" he called. "Come here!" Out in the corridor was a clattering, rumbling sound of metallic footsteps. Before Meech came into view, Ron heard him answering.

"Get into the transmitter, sir! The next hit can—"

Just then it came. The aliens in the giant ship seemed to be building a learning curve with their shooting. Each hit was more dangerous to the station than the previous one. All around Ron a pit of Hell seemed to open up with blinding flashes, biting odours and a raging hissing and deafening thunder. He was knocked back and forth helplessly, feeling numb and weary. He tried to resist the spasmodic jolting and jerking movement of his surroundings but not a muscle of his body seemed to respond.

When the tumult subsided, he lay still. He was hardly aware of being lifted up. Vaguely he heard a few blurred clinking sounds and the buzzing and slamming of a door that seemed to be made of wire mesh. For the moment he didn’t know what it was. For a few seconds more he was lying on a deck, unmoving. Then a sharp pain shot through him and momentarily there was nothing but darkness around him.

Finally, it was bright again. Ron’s curiosity brought back his ability to move and he raised up swiftly. A cage door opened before him. Beyond it was the transmitter room on board the cruiser Joann.

Meech! Where was Meech?

*

Meech hadn’t considered his chances to be too slim. Not so slim that he couldn’t stay with the station a few more minutes to see what happened.

He knew no emotion of fear. If he were to have been provided with a special program for showing fear in expression and movement, this would have been no great difficulty, but he still wouldn’t have understood the meaning of it.

He went out of the transmitter station but made sure that the hatch door stayed open. He didn’t dare leave the remaining sender cage out of his sight. In fact the only reason he came this far away from it was to escape the interference caused by the radiations from the transmitter generator. He wanted to be able to follow the activity of the gun positions and perhaps pick up a few other signals as well. He didn’t believe that the phantoms were exclusively engaged in shooting at the crooked giant outside. They had a powerful sending station at their disposal. At least it had been powerful before the angular monster ship had started firing.

Meech could tell that three of the gun positions were highly active. The energy fields radiating from the various heavy weapons were so strong that they almost gave him a headache. The station received a fourth and a fifth hit. Meech held on to the bulkhead opening and thanks to his tremendous strength he didn’t lose his footing - even though the BOB 21 did a double somersault.

He looked concernedly at the one remaining transmitter inside the room. The control lamp was still on but it was flickering. He told himself it was time. If they didn’t start signalling in the next few seconds....

That’s when they started.

Meech could detect it plainly. Above the raging influx from the guns he sensed the even cadence of frequencies from the big hyper-telecom transmitter. He stood there quietly and took in the wave pattern of it, storing it in his memory. The carrier wave and the modulations combined. He kept listening until he was sure that it was only a repetition of the starting information.

Then he left his listening post. With a mighty grip he opened the door of the remaining transmitter cage, threw himself on the uncomfortable bench inside—which complained under his ponderous weight—and closed the grid door behind him. It was at that moment when the indicator overhead went out. Meech got up calmly, realizing that he only had a few seconds left. If in that brief space of time he failed to get the transmitter going he would be just as lost as the invisible aliens on board.

Inside of each transmitter cage was an auxiliary control panel so that the equipment wasn’t solely dependent upon outside operation. Meech ripped off the panel plate, an effort which would have broken the arms or hands of a normal man. But Meech only had to give one firm tug and his task was accomplished. He then divested himself of his outer armour with a few deft movements. With powerful fingers he tore open his uniform and also his own synthetic skin. Underneath was revealed white–gleaming plastic metal. There was a small opening he could reach into, from which he pulled two insulated cables. These he fastened to the control panel’s contacts.

Emotionlessly, he looped up. Two seconds passed, then three... Then the green indicator lamp came on again not especially bright and mostly just flickering. But at any rate, the signal light was on. Meech broke the contact, not bothering to stick the two cables back inside his body. He pressed two knobs on the panel plate… and noted at the same moment that in the ultimate second something had gone wrong.

This transmitter jump was never going to bring him to the Joann in all of eternity. He realized this automatically when the greyness of semispace welled up around him.

At least he had escaped the doom in store for the BOB 21.

*

The incident far beyond the edge of the Milky Way by far outweighed all normal political questions on Terra. A few minutes after Maj. Landry had arrived back on board the Joann, the BOB 21 had exploded under the bombardment of the angular battleship. The Joann had gotten under way at once and flown to the site of the catastrophe. When it arrived there was no trace of the big assailant. And since its propulsion system seemed capable of making silent transitions there was no remaining clue as to where it might have gone.

Nike Quinto virtually stood there with empty hands, which didn’t do his so-called blood pressure any good. Besides, a valued member of his commando team had vanished with the BOB 21. Meech Hannigan the robot had not returned from his last mission.

Quinto beamed a brief report to Earth. Minutes later he received instructions to return to Terra as quickly as possible and to make a personal report to the Administrator.

Meanwhile, Earth issued a warning to the other intergalactic observation stations. The Fleet units that Quinto had mobilized along the edge of the galaxy, 5000 light years from the position of the BOB 21, were reinforced and sent on patrol. The entire Terran Fleet was on top alert.

Perry Rhodan received Nike Quinto and his men at once. The debriefing session lasted almost 6 hours and immediately thereafter Rhodan requested the Terran TV networks to give him a halfhour timeslot between 20:00 and 20:30, local Terra time.

His half-hour address was more upsetting yet more objective than the lecture once given by the cosmobiologist 100 years ago. Perry Rhodan established a firm course for extra-terrestrial policy with regard to aliens from intergalactic space.

He concluded with the words: "We have calculated that ours is not the only island universe that could have produced intelligent life. Anyone with common sense could have foreseen that sooner or later such an encounter would take place. Well, we have that first encounter behind us. And we are appalled by its frightening nature and the utterly alien mode of thinking it has revealed to us."

"But we will not give rein to our fears in this regard. We’ve seen that the aliens, to say the least, have a warlike streak in them - if indeed their entire nature and method of thinking isn’t committed to war and conquest. So we must arm ourselves, for however pleased we may be to make contact with alien intelligences we shall always protect our position within our own galaxy.

"You may rest assured that the coming months and years will demand sacrifices from us. These we will make, even to the point of war. We are Terrans, and aside from our position we have a reputation to uphold. The galaxy has its eyes on us!"

*

During a routine investigation of instruments on board the Joann, it developed a few days later that the BOB 21‘s last transmitter had become active at the last moment but that it had not developed sufficient power to complete the hypertransmission. As a result, no reception had occurred at the cruiser’s end of the circuit.

Nike Quinto immediately ordered a checkout of the automatic recordings in his transmitter room. The technicians soon found out the exact time of the incident, and the result was surprising. It had occurred between the time of Ron Landry’s return from the BOB 21 and the moment when the Joann observed the explosion of the observation station.

What this meant was immediately obvious to everyone. Meech Hannigan had made a last attempt to get away from the station. The attempt had failed.

Which was very disturbing because where Meech could be now after such a mishap - no one could say...

THE END

5/ THE NIGHTMARE SHIP

Two by two the crewmen of the BOB 21 arrived on board the waiting "factory" cruiser. 24 men were received through the transmitter but for the time being the 25th man was missing.

This caused Nike Quinto to convert his plans into action as soon as possible.

As he figured it, if the question concerning a "true life form" indicated that the signaller was a robot, then there was only one practical way of confronting such entities: you sent a robot to face them. He felt that the alien questioner had wanted to know if they were also robots or some kind of organic life form.

He had to admit, however, that there were probably 3 dozen other explanations which could be as valid as this one. Yet this was the only direction he could take effectively and in a hurry. So he grasped the one opportunity out of 3 dozen rather than stand idle and allow them all to be lost.

On board the Joann there was only one action-ready robot: Meech Hannigan. It was a strange irony of fate, however, that Meech happened to be provided with a human like covering of synthetic flesh and skin tissues which were in a sense alive and therefore made him actually unsuitable for the mission, in spite of his real body of plastic metal and positronic circuits. No one, not even another robot, would have taken Meech for a robot. He was simply too human in his appearance.

Of course this wasn’t too much of an obstacle for Nike Quinto, and anyway he didn’t intend to send Meech alone on his journey. His companion would be a human, but one who would be disguised for the mission. In fact Quinto also had a disguise prepared for Meech himself. This consisted of a sort of metallic armour which was not unlike a suit of mail such as had been used on Earth in medieval times. The main difference was that various outer details had been designed so that its wearer would look less like a knight but more like a genuine robot.

Meech’s companion in arms was to be Ron Landry, and he was provided with the same kind of camouflage. After donning the metal suit he could only be distinguished from Meech by the number on the headplate of his helmet. This was also for realism because naturally robots were numbered. But the history of Meech Hannigan was to be recorded henceforth in the annals of the Terran spacefleet as "the case of the robot disguised as a robot"—even though at the moment, considering the uncertainty of the situation, nobody felt overly disposed to laughter.

Without further delay, Ron and Meech prepared to leave, both of them armed to the teeth. The transmitter receivers on board the BOB 21 were remotely activated. The Joann’s instruments indicated that the station’s equipment was still in order. So Ron and Meech took the leap. So far, there was still no trace of Eric Furchtbar.

*

The two adventurers arrived without hindrance in the BOB 21’s transmitter room, which they found to be empty. However, there was an odour in the air that hinted of a short-circuit somewhere. It was a stench of burned or melted insulation.

Before leaving the Joann, Ron had gotten a short report of what happened in the generator room. He knew about Eric Furchtbar’s strange success with his hand disintegrator after the much heavier thermo beamers had proven themselves completely ineffective. Thus he followed the same plan of action which Eric had used but minutes before. He placed his back to both transmitter cages so that they wouldn’t be damaged, and then swept the room with a fanned out disintegrator beam.

The general effect was zero. Judging by what information he had so far, this meant that no one was in the room except the two of them. Ron was disappointed. He had hoped to either find Eric Furchtbar here, or one of the invisibles. When he had learned that Eric hadn’t arrived on board the Joann he had assumed that he had remained behind in order to guard the transmitters.

It had seemed to be a logical conclusion. Even if the phantoms had located Eric here and done away with him, then at least one of their kind should have been here.

But now Ron realized that his reasoning had been false. He ordered Meech to open the hatch door. Meech complied and stepped outside halfway into the corridor. Nothing happened. He looked to the right and the left of him and also checked his surroundings with all of his superhuman sensor equipment. In the end he reported to Ron that the "coast" was clear.

After finding the transmitter room empty, the place Ron was most interested in was the main control room of the station. He and Meech were well acquainted with the layout of the BOB 21, so they had no difficulty in finding their way. The only question was whether or not the invisible aliens would let them get that far.

They went along the passage to one of the antigrav shafts. Meech had taken the lead in accordance with the traditional rules of the spacefleet. Whenever robots took part on a mission" they formed the advance guard and fought in the most dangerous positions. Meech was no exception but he wasn’t sensitive about it. His positronic program didn’t provide for such a reaction.

They drifted cautiously up the shaft to the central deck. Everywhere in the station was the same echoing emptiness, the same deadly and uncanny silence. Like in a tomb, Ron thought uneasily. A tomb that was 5000 light years out from the rim of the Milky Way. The phantoms had to be somewhere!

Perhaps they were below in the power room, he thought fleetingly. They had been trying to do something with the generators. He recalled Art Cavanaugh’s hasty report. The Com Room had been supplied with more power than the equipment then in operation had been able to stand. Maybe all the aliens had really wanted to do was provide themselves with more power, without knowing how the equipment functioned. If the attack in the Com Room were correctly analysed, what it amounted to that they had already sent out one quick radio message, possibly a distress call. It could be that they were trying to do it again only this time with maximum transmitting power.

But it could also be that this guess missed the mark by a long shot. Maybe they needed the tremendous output for an entirely different reason. Art Cavanaugh had said that most of the equipment had been intact when he left the Com Room. Otherwise, under the mighty full power load they would have long since gone up in smoke. This indicated that the additional current was being tapped off and conducted to some unknown place.

But where? - and to what purpose?

When Meech reached the central deck level he swung out of the shaft cautiously after concealing himself a few seconds at the opening. Then he stepped out into the corridor, followed by Ron.

A new thought came to Ron. The energy employed by the hyper transmitter had the same structure as...

He was interrupted. Meech flew at him as if shot from a cannon. The two suits of armour collided with a loud crash and Ron was flung to the deck, knocking his chin against a helmet hinge in the process. Meech was lying on top of him, and a second later it seemed that this had saved his life.

He would never have been able to react as quickly as the robot. Peering from under Meech’s armour he could see a glaring flood of red light coming from the end of the passage. In frozen surprise he noted that the brilliant light advanced slowly and sluggishly, almost looking like oil, toward the spot where the two Terrans were lying on the floor. The light emanated a glowing heat wave in front of it. Ron could feel it through his metal covering and he noted that the plating on the walls was blistering and starting to bubble.

Without hesitation, Meech retaliated. With a breath-taking swiftness that was not in the least impeded by his heavy mail, he jerked out his disintegrator. It was no hand gun such as Eric had used but rather a heavy automatic weapon that was like a miniature cannon. With a loud hissing and humming the green ray stormed through the passage toward the red fire.

When the two fires met there was an ear-splitting explosion. Ron felt Meech’s ponderous weight lifted from him as the robot was blasted halfway into the antigrav shaft. Once relieved of his protective load, Ron was also gripped by the mighty rush of air and was shoved along the passage.

Up ahead there was a wild shriek but nobody could be seen. Ron had also heard that the invisibles let out such yells when they were hit by disintegrator fire. He then perceived the advantage that Meech’s lightning reaction had given them.

"Forward, Meech!" he shouted.

With an almost inimitable grace, the heavy robot swung out of the shaft and landed on his feet. This time Ron was not concerned about using him for cover. They charged forward, shoulder to shoulder, and before long they arrived at the small continuation of the corridor that led to the control room door.

No one blocked their way. The red fire had vanished. Only the walls still retained their ugly blisters and the air was still scalding hot. Meech held watch while Ron opened the hatch door. It seemed to have been affected by the heat because it took a few moments before it sluggishly slid to one side with a complaining, screeching sound.

Ron had his weapon in firing position as he started to enter. In fact he had the trigger half depressed, ready to sweep the room with a fanned-out beam, but suddenly he saw the burnished barrel of a weapon sticking out of the hatchway and it was pointed directly at his mid-section.

With a warning shout he ducked to one side. Meech whirled around, raising his heavy automatic.

If it hadn’t been for Meech’s wonderful ability to react with lightning swiftness, a tragedy might have occurred at that moment. Unimpeded by the weight of the automatic, his steel sheathed hand shot forward. Ron heard a clattering blow and a cry of pain. He couldn’t see what was happening beyond the angle of the door. Something metallic rattled to the floor. Then all was still.

Until Meech was heard to say: "Excuse me, sir, but you might have fired before we had a chance to explain the situation." Ron heard somebody sigh. Then Eric Furchtbar’s voice answered in slightly hoarse tones: "You’re probably right - and I thank you!"

*

Ron straightened up with a sense of relief. Eric came through the hatchway as Ron explained their identities. He saluted the major weakly.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed fervently. "I thought I was going to have to handle everything by myself." They all entered the control room together. The door closed behind them. Eric picked up the disintegrator that Meech had knocked from his hand. With a pained expression he shook his arm and then massaged his wrist.

"What’s happening here?" asked Ron. "Any new developments?" Eric made a wry grimace. "I wish I knew, Major. The only thing I know for sure is that the station is swarming with these invisible aliens. It’s a shame the way they’re fooling around with our generators. And that I’m sure of, too. I don’t know what they’re trying to do with them but I think I know why they came on board."

Ron raised a querulous brow. "Oh? Why?"

"Their ship out there—about 3 minutes ago it blew up. They must have had a nuclear fire going on board, or something of the sort. I don’t know if that’s what caused them to collide with us or if it had something to do with the war they were fighting out in the abyss somewhere—but at any rate they probably saw that their chances were gone where their own ship was concerned. That’s why they transferred over to us. And now they’re getting ready for something but I haven't any idea of what it could be."

This last remark made Ron wary. "They’re preparing for something, you say?"

"Yes, of course," Eric assured him. "Just look at the instruments. The generators are acting up like crazy. They’d never do that by themselves, so somebody has to be fooling around with them continuously - and I’d say in a frenzied hurry. If that doesn’t mean they’re expecting something to happen pretty quickly, and that they’re trying to get ready for it..." He left the rest of the thought unexpressed.

Ron recalled that some idea had come to him suddenly just before the aliens had unleashed their red fire as he was coming out of the antigrav shaft but he couldn’t remember now what it was. In its place came another thought.

"They’ve never shot at you, is that right?" he asked Eric.

"No, and I thought that was very strange. They always used their fists as if they were unarmed. Just once they used something sharp that left a trace like a knife slice. Here, look!" He showed Ron the backs of his hands so that he could see the faint cuts but was almost insulted when the latter failed to be impressed.

Instead, Ron turned abruptly to the robot. "Then why did they shoot at us...?" The question came out like a shot from a gun.

"Because they took us for robots," was Meech’s answer, which was returned with equal swiftness.

Eric Furchtbar’s eyes widened with sudden comprehension. "So that’s it!" he exclaimed. "I’ve been wondering all this time why you were hauling that strange-looking armour around."

The other two ignored him for the moment. He wanted to ask them what they were thinking of on board the Joann in sending men to the station disguised as robots. He didn’t know that Meech Hannigan was actually a robot. However, when he saw that Ron was busy with his own thoughts he decided to remain silent.

After pondering over Meech’s answer a few seconds, Ron nodded. "Sounds logical," he agreed. "The invisibles don’t intend to destroy organic life as long as they can avoid it—but they don’t have the same consideration for robots. They shoot at them wherever they encounter them. Meech confirmed this line of reasoning but added: "That’s a valid assumption as long as we can presume that the aliens’ way of thinking is related to ours."

Ron thought this over. Somehow he had not considered these aliens as having a different form of reasoning than what would be the norm in his own galaxy, but now he remembered the warning.

"They shot at you?" asked Eric in surprise.

"Yes—with a weapon that generated a sort of Greek fire. It creeps slowly along the corridor and is devilishly hot. It is a gleaming red colour. If Meech hadn’t reacted quickly it might have been curtains for us."

"That’s strange," muttered Eric. "In our case they never—" Ron interrupted him. "It makes it all the more evident, doesn’t it, that they were having their big battle out there with robots...?"

"That’s one of a 100 different possibilities. Don’t forget, sir, that we have practically nothing to go on."

"Yes, and I guess we don’t even know if they think at all as we do."

It was frustrating. Normally whenever one took up a thread of reasoning and followed it, in a very short time it fell into place somehow with the basic standards of logic. You could do this with Arkonides and even with the Ferronians and the Swoons and maybe even with the serpents of Passa - but not with entities who came from an alien galaxy.

Ron turned to look at the indicators Eric had mentioned. The meters were in an uproar, most of them showing readings in the upper limits of their scales. In fact some had passed the red line. The aliens were overloading the generators.

"Now you can see why I came back up here," said Eric. "In the transmitter station I could only watch the two cages but up here I can monitor everything."

"Have they been fooling around with the transmitters?" asked Ron.

Eric shook his head negatively. "No—everything is calm in that area."

"Were you attacked on your way back here?"

"There wasn’t a trace of them. Except for the Com Room and the power room, the BOB 21 is empty."

This brought Ron back to the thought that had escaped him before. They had turned on all the generators and had channelled the total output into the Com Room. Why? What were they trying to do? Ron recalled that his vague idea had something to do with related forms of energy—and then it suddenly came to him again.

The alternating field of a hyper transmission was related to the stationary field of a defence screen in the same way as an electromagnetic field was to one that consisted of an intersecting electrostatic and magnetic field. And one could rectify hyperfrequencies, of course, just as easily as those in the electromagnetic range.

Was that it? Were the phantoms merely attempting to beef up the defence screen? For a brief moment it seemed to Ron Landry that he had a clearer picture of the situation than he had ever had before.

Then Eric Furchtbar gave a shout. "We’re getting another message!"

It startled Ron from his train of thought. Ever since the BOB 21 had received the first alien hypercom signals, the small scope in the main control room had been coupled to the Com Room equipment. Until now the small circular screen had not shown anything but a confused tracing of interference that was caused by the feverish activity with the generators but now it revealed a clearly amplified wave pattern. About one and a half cycles of the carrier wave were encompassed by the screen but it was spiked with numerous modulation patterns.

"That’s the old one again – about a true life form!" announced Eric excitedly. "The pattern is unmistakable!" The image remained on the screen a few seconds and then vanished. Ron would have preferred going down to the Com Room and running the recorder strip through the positronics for verification but the aliens were down there and besides, nobody was on duty in the computer room. Even if he could have obtained the tape he would have had to run the positronics himself, and at the moment he didn’t have time for it. So he took Eric’s word - that it was the same message as before. Why were they asking this again? They had already received their answer several times.

Another thought came to him. "Have you any way of telling whether or not the wave pattern is clearer and more amplified this time than when it was last received... or is it weaker...?"

"This was much stronger than the last time." Eric’s answer came without hesitation, which meant he was sure of the difference.

Ron’s tension increased. Hyper transmission was one of the wonders of modern technology but no matter how wonderful it was it couldn’t violate natural laws. You had to receive signals from a near source more strongly than you would from a distant source. The first message received by the BOB 21 had come from a distance of about 400 light years but this latest reception was much clearer. Therefore, the distance had changed.

Somebody else was approaching the BOB 21!

Ron told Eric to answer the call the same as he had before. Eric went to the small control panel that enabled him to operate the Com Room equipment. He pressed a few buttons and smiled faintly.

"I hope it’s still working," he commented. "Who knows what those characters may have done in the meantime?"

Seconds later the oscilloscope registered the wave pattern of the outgoing signal. It was coded the same way as the aliens’ message. No one could tell from the scope what the content of the answering message was but Eric claimed that there was only one prepared program strip in this transmitter. It had to be the right one.

Ron Landry forced himself to be calm because he had to think clearly. He wondered if he should try making contact with the invisibles but he rejected this idea before long. Eric and his men had spent a lot of time on that without the slightest success. He was sure that the second alien ship whose message they had just received would show up very soon. He was almost equally certain that this second ship would be bringing the enemies of their present unseen visitors, because the wave pattern of the received signal was basically different from the message the invisibles had sent out previously. Therefore there were just two types of aliens out here in intergalactic space—the invisibles, and their enemies, whoever they might be.

Ron went over this chain of logic repeatedly, attempting to find an error in reasoning. He searched for places where either one of the alien actions might be attributed to a mode of thinking different than his but he found no loopholes. The chain of reasoning was like a puzzle whose pieces fit into each other. It had to be the way he had figured it—or they had overlooked something.

But then again this present situation would explain why the invisibles were trying to strengthen the station’s defence screen. In some way they had learned about the imminent arrival of their enemies. Probably they didn’t believe the screen had enough protective power in its normal state, and that’s why they were beefing it up. This might also explain why they had not responded to Eric’s previous attempts to contact them. They needed every spare second to prepare for an attack by the enemy.

Ron turned and looked questioningly at Meech Hannigan, and Meech understood.

"My analysis, sir..." he began, and then he proceeded to give the same arguments and logical conclusions that Ron had already thought out by himself.

Eric Furchtbar stared at them in wide-eyed amazement as he listened.

For him the past few hours had been too hectic for him to get into the deeper whys and wherefores of the situation. He was still trying to recover from the shock of the first ship’s sudden appearance.

"Do you really believe," he said excitedly, "that still another vessel has set a course for the station?" Ron nodded. He was about to answer him but Meech made a surprising breach of regulations by cutting in on him quickly.

"There’s nothing much more to argue about, sir. There are the other aliens already!" The alien ship fairly leapt into the viewscreen. A half a second before it had not been there but now it filled more than ѕths of the main screen. It had arrived without the slightest hyper shockwave disturbance.

Ron instantly realized that this was a new type of transition. He was about to marvel at it but all his wonderment concerning the strange ship’s propulsion was swept aside by the shock of its outward appearance. He was only vaguely aware of a groan of dismay from Eric’s tall figure beside him, and it could have been that he also let out a groan. It was impossible that anyone could be insane enough to design such a ship.

It looked as if it had once been cubical but its structure had been bent out of shape. What remained was a completely erratic geometrical creation with a basically octagonal pattern. Since the BOB 21 provided them with artificial gravity, the observing Terrans had a sense of up and down, so what they thought they saw was a looming vertical wall directly in front of them. It ended in a sloping edge, beyond which they could make out one of the deck surfaces, a trapezoidal plane that slanted steeply up to the farther edge or nether wall of the hull. The left sidewall stood out at a grotesque angle. On the viewscreen, nothing could be seen of the righthand wall. It was probably indented.

Although such was the general shape of the vessel its sides and deck areas were anything but even. There were bays and turrets, domes and other projections as well as a confusing maze of niches and channels. Out of the domes towered rod-shaped protrusions covered with stiff fanlike shapes. In the indented areas gleamed varicoloured lights. From the bays, heavy three-pronged and fourpronged forks emerged into space, and a lively movement of some kind was to be seen on the mound-like elevations. Not even Meech could make out what the movement was or what it was supposed to accomplish.

This gave Ron an idea. It was fairly illogical and that was why Meech hadn’t thought of it. Ron knew that objects moving on the outside of an intergalactic spaceship had to have some limitation of size but those things over there were neither bugs nor humans. They must have been as big as lifeboats or observation modules. At least he thought so. There was no comparison, however, that he could judge by.

But if he was right, the alien ship was a giant. Until now he had thought the vessel was only a few km away from the station but after all it had just emerged from hyper space—and not even an intergalactic commander would terminate a transition so close to his target. So the monster was farther distant, and judging by that it would have to be much larger than he had thought.

Those angular sides had to be at least 2 km across. It was only a rough estimate but Ron was startled nevertheless. The alien monstrosity was even larger than the mightiest super battleship of the Terran spacefleet.

It left Ron severely shaken. For a few tense moments he stood there waiting for some gun ports to open up out there and for a mighty blast of deadly energy to come flashing at them. But the seconds passed without event. The weird, fragmented crate thing merely hung there motionlessly in the void.

Then Ron began to wonder what these new aliens were waiting for. It seemed as if they had actually been waiting for him to have the thought because in the next moment the oscilloscope came to life again. He glanced at it only briefly before he turned to Eric.

"Is that the same as before?" he asked.

Eric studied the scope with wide, wondering eyes. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "That’s the same old question!"

Ron almost barked an order. "Then give them the same old answer again!"

This time it took Eric a while longer because he was somewhat perplexed and confused. His hands seemed to grope aimlessly over the keyboard of the control panel. He preset a few buttons, then cancelled with a correction switch, but finally he found what he wanted. The frequency pattern of the answer appeared on the oscilloscope screen, which was connected with the Com Room.

Ron watched the fragmented space monster tensely, knowing that the aliens there would have to receive this answer. Since the message was structured in their own code they wouldn’t take long in deciphering it. So what would they do now?

Ron was often to recall later how startled and surprised he was to get the first reaction from an entirely unexpected source.

While he was still staring at the viewscreen the hatch door opened behind him. Meech was the only one who noticed it and he shouted a warning. Ron whirled around, noting out of a corner of his eye that Eric Furchtbar threw himself to one side.

Of course he didn’t think that would help him much. Through the bulkhead opening surged a tidal wave of blood-red brilliance that filled the room almost at once with a suffocating heat.

*

It was strange how silently the ambush happened. After Meech’s warning cry the first thing Ron heard was the breaking of glassite meter and indicator faceplates under the blistering heat. Synthetic glass splinters were falling to the floor like hail. Meech raised his heavy disintegrator and in an almost instantaneous movement he brought the destroying green energy beam into play. It sang out with an irresistible force against the red wall of fire.

The effect was seen immediately. The scarlet flame drew back, forming an indentation before the impact of Meech’s ray. To the right and left of that cleft, the outer arms of the flame came to a momentary halt but then they crept forward again. Ron also started firing. The considerably finer beam of his hand weapon struck the left wing of the flame front and at first it seemed that he wasn’t stopping it in the least. But then the progress of the heat flood became slower, and after a while it came to a stop completely.

Now Eric Furchtbar came into the battle, aiming the beam of his disintegrator at the righthand front of the flame. However small his weapon, it made the difference. The red fire receded, at first slowly; then it flowed back with increasing speed, finally disappearing through the hatchway. The door could no longer close because it had ceased to exist. The fire had consumed it.

Ron got to his feet, now feeling the full impact of the terrible heat, to which he had been exposed for several minutes. His skin was burning and he could only move very slowly. Wherever his metal armour touched his clothing it burned a hole and brought blisters to his hide..

Eric had more freedom of movement because he wasn’t wearing a coat of mail. He was able to jump up without pain and get to the control panel. The most unscathed of course was Meech. Heat did not affect him unless it exceeded 1000° Centigrade. His first glance was at the viewscreen. Since he saw Ron was slow to turn about he reported.

"The alien ship has not moved from its position, sir!"

Ron’s metallic armour was rapidly losing its heat. He finally managed to face the screen again, which was apparently the only equipment in the control room that was still functioning. Its covering glassite plate was thicker than the others. Also, it had been the farthest removed from the reddish heat glow.

Meech was right. The strange ship was still in the same place. Ron suddenly comprehended. It wasn’t the strangers out there who had attacked them but the invisible phantoms here on board the station. The red fire weapon was proof enough of that. It all came clear to him. The invisibles had the com Room under their control. They must have noted that the station had sent out two messages in short succession, which contained the same set of signals. Perhaps they knew the enemy code. Then they would know, of course, that their enemy regarded himself as a "true life form" and would only be a friend of those who were living entities like themselves.

The situation was not without its humorous irony. Ron himself had approved a confirmation of the alien question. But while he had sought to satisfy one enemy he alienated the other. Because apparently the invisibles hated anything that was "true life" like their enemy, with whom they had been waging war out between the stellar islands.

They had observed the arrival of the alien ship the same as the Terrans had, up in the control room. When the question was transmitted again and confirmed once more in the same format, they had sought to retaliate. When a mighty enemy ship was outside they couldn’t afford also to have enemies right under their noses on board the station.

What would they do now? Their at tack had been repulsed. It looked as if they knew of no weapon that could stand up against a Terran disintegrator. Would they try it again? Perhaps at a point in time when they figured the Terrans would have their attention focussed elsewhere. Ron decided to keep his eyes open. But first of all that angular ship out there was the most important consideration. It appeared to be much deadlier than the red fire weapon of the phantoms.

Ron observed that in the meantime his armour had cooled off enough for him to move about without being agonized.

He sent Meech outside the room to stand guard because he didn’t want to be surprised again. Meech obeyed willingly. Ron and Eric concentrated their attention on the viewscreen.

After a few minutes the nightmarish ship began to move. It was a breathtaking experience to watch the vast, angular edges and corners of the monster as they ran off the limits of the big screen and finally left them facing a metal wall with its hundreds of outcroppings and corners and niches and turrets.

"They’re coming over" said Eric.

The thought sent a chill through Ron but his voice was steady when he answered. "That’s just what we’re waiting for."

There was nothing more he could say. There was no other purpose to their vigilance here. Yet he had hardly spoken before he realized there was a possibility he hadn’t thought of until now. It was the possibility, in fact, that the phantoms might know how to operate the BOB 21’s gun positions.

*

There was no doubt anymore that they knew how.

A pale blue shimmer of battle rays swept across the viewscreen. The broad, canted surface of the ship wall out there flared suddenly with an unreal, flickering light.

Defence screens, thought Ron. Naturally they would have powerful defence screens.

Forgetting his own situation, Ron watched the battle in fascination. The crossing ray beams were coming from at least two of the station’s gun turrets. The phantoms were handling the weapons with maximum expertise. With apparent ease they brought 5 pale green disintegrator beams together over the surface of the angular ship. The enemy defence screen glowed white hot. A jerking pattern of yellow and rose-coloured lightwaves travelled over the steep wall. It seemed as if the screen hadn’t been ready for such a tremendous load all at once.

At the same time Ron could see that the brilliant beams of the thermo cannons were no match for the ungainly looking monster. The defence screen glowed faintly where the thermo rays struck it. There was no jerking wave pattern of lights as a consequence. Yet the average power of the thermo cannons was much greater than that of the disintegrators.

Ron was so gripped by the unusual spectacle that he only thought of his own position when the misshapen vessel opened its counter-offensive. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening. Something seemed to come between the canted wall of the ship and the viewscreen—like a thin curtain of heated air, dancing and shimmering.

In the next instant such a terrific jolt ran through the station that Ron and Eric were knocked off their feet. The deck of the control room slanted suddenly and the two men slid helplessly toward the open hatchway. The full realization of their danger came to Ron now. The BOB 21’s screen weren’t the strongest available by any means, even though the invisibles may have reinforced them. Who could know what reserves of power the odd-angled alien Behemoth possessed?

The shock of the impact ebbed away in receding waves of force. When Ron got to his feet again he saw the deadpan "helmet" face of Meech looking in through the hatchway.

"To the transmitters!" Ron shouted.

"Check the route for any resistance!" Meech complied immediately and went ahead. Ron helped Eric to his feet and by the time they got out into the corridor their robot companion was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on!" Ron urged. "We have to get out of here. Those idiots in the gun bays—they’re not going to accomplish anything except get this station blown up by that flying fortress!"

As they staggered through the passage a second great jolt struck the defence screen and caused the deck under them to sway. The walls and bulkheads groaned under the strain. The fragmented ship’s giant salvos were too powerful for the screen to even absorb the mechanical impact.

The dark opening of the antigrav shaft loomed closer and finally Ron simply shoved Eric in ahead of him. Before following him he took one last look around. No sign of the phantoms. There was no red fire now. The invisibles had their hands full to just stay alive.

They sank downward on the grav field into the lower depths. Once Ron caught a glimpse of Meech peeking up from an exit below. Apparently he saw the two of them because when they came out on the transmitter deck he had already gone ahead to clear the way and give them coverage.

Unchallenged, they reached the station where the transmitter cages were showing green lights already. So far everything was in order. But at that moment the BOB 21 received another hit, and this time the effects were much worse.

Ron had a strange sensation which made it seem as if the room was spinning around him. His helmet, shoulders, arms and legs crashed against the walls. He was bounced back and forth but finally came to rest in a fairly benumbed state.

Nearby, somebody groaned. Eric!

Ron got up and saw Eric lying by a wall with his eyes closed. He had evidently been knocked out. He grasped him under the arms and dragged him to the nearest sender cage. With one hand he tried to open the wire-mesh door of the cubicle. He shoved down the lock handle and pulled on it but the door didn’t budge.

He stared in puzzlement at the control lamp and saw that it had gone out. The power had been interrupted. The transmitters weren’t operating now. For a moment he was seized by a rising panic until he noticed that the other cage was apparently unimpaired. The green indicator lamp was still on. Laboriously, he dragged Eric across a space of 4 meters, and this time the cage door opened for him at once. Ron shoved Eric’s long, limp body inside and arranged it so that he could close the door.

Then he ran to the switchboard, pulled down the start lever and depressed the release button. A gentle mist appeared in the cage and then was gone. So was Eric—to safety.

Ron remained by the switch panel. "Meech!" he called. "Come here!" Out in the corridor was a clattering, rumbling sound of metallic footsteps. Before Meech came into view, Ron heard him answering.

"Get into the transmitter, sir! The next hit can—"

Just then it came. The aliens in the giant ship seemed to be building a learning curve with their shooting. Each hit was more dangerous to the station than the previous one. All around Ron a pit of Hell seemed to open up with blinding flashes, biting odours and a raging hissing and deafening thunder. He was knocked back and forth helplessly, feeling numb and weary. He tried to resist the spasmodic jolting and jerking movement of his surroundings but not a muscle of his body seemed to respond.

When the tumult subsided, he lay still. He was hardly aware of being lifted up. Vaguely he heard a few blurred clinking sounds and the buzzing and slamming of a door that seemed to be made of wire mesh. For the moment he didn’t know what it was. For a few seconds more he was lying on a deck, unmoving. Then a sharp pain shot through him and momentarily there was nothing but darkness around him.

Finally, it was bright again. Ron’s curiosity brought back his ability to move and he raised up swiftly. A cage door opened before him. Beyond it was the transmitter room on board the cruiser Joann.

Meech! Where was Meech?

*

Meech hadn’t considered his chances to be too slim. Not so slim that he couldn’t stay with the station a few more minutes to see what happened.

He knew no emotion of fear. If he were to have been provided with a special program for showing fear in expression and movement, this would have been no great difficulty, but he still wouldn’t have understood the meaning of it.

He went out of the transmitter station but made sure that the hatch door stayed open. He didn’t dare leave the remaining sender cage out of his sight. In fact the only reason he came this far away from it was to escape the interference caused by the radiations from the transmitter generator. He wanted to be able to follow the activity of the gun positions and perhaps pick up a few other signals as well. He didn’t believe that the phantoms were exclusively engaged in shooting at the crooked giant outside. They had a powerful sending station at their disposal. At least it had been powerful before the angular monster ship had started firing.

Meech could tell that three of the gun positions were highly active. The energy fields radiating from the various heavy weapons were so strong that they almost gave him a headache. The station received a fourth and a fifth hit. Meech held on to the bulkhead opening and thanks to his tremendous strength he didn’t lose his footing - even though the BOB 21 did a double somersault.

He looked concernedly at the one remaining transmitter inside the room. The control lamp was still on but it was flickering. He told himself it was time. If they didn’t start signalling in the next few seconds....

That’s when they started.

Meech could detect it plainly. Above the raging influx from the guns he sensed the even cadence of frequencies from the big hyper-telecom transmitter. He stood there quietly and took in the wave pattern of it, storing it in his memory. The carrier wave and the modulations combined. He kept listening until he was sure that it was only a repetition of the starting information.

Then he left his listening post. With a mighty grip he opened the door of the remaining transmitter cage, threw himself on the uncomfortable bench inside—which complained under his ponderous weight—and closed the grid door behind him. It was at that moment when the indicator overhead went out. Meech got up calmly, realizing that he only had a few seconds left. If in that brief space of time he failed to get the transmitter going he would be just as lost as the invisible aliens on board.

Inside of each transmitter cage was an auxiliary control panel so that the equipment wasn’t solely dependent upon outside operation. Meech ripped off the panel plate, an effort which would have broken the arms or hands of a normal man. But Meech only had to give one firm tug and his task was accomplished. He then divested himself of his outer armour with a few deft movements. With powerful fingers he tore open his uniform and also his own synthetic skin. Underneath was revealed white–gleaming plastic metal. There was a small opening he could reach into, from which he pulled two insulated cables. These he fastened to the control panel’s contacts.

Emotionlessly, he looped up. Two seconds passed, then three... Then the green indicator lamp came on again not especially bright and mostly just flickering. But at any rate, the signal light was on. Meech broke the contact, not bothering to stick the two cables back inside his body. He pressed two knobs on the panel plate… and noted at the same moment that in the ultimate second something had gone wrong.

This transmitter jump was never going to bring him to the Joann in all of eternity. He realized this automatically when the greyness of semispace welled up around him.

At least he had escaped the doom in store for the BOB 21.

*

The incident far beyond the edge of the Milky Way by far outweighed all normal political questions on Terra. A few minutes after Maj. Landry had arrived back on board the Joann, the BOB 21 had exploded under the bombardment of the angular battleship. The Joann had gotten under way at once and flown to the site of the catastrophe. When it arrived there was no trace of the big assailant. And since its propulsion system seemed capable of making silent transitions there was no remaining clue as to where it might have gone.

Nike Quinto virtually stood there with empty hands, which didn’t do his so-called blood pressure any good. Besides, a valued member of his commando team had vanished with the BOB 21. Meech Hannigan the robot had not returned from his last mission.

Quinto beamed a brief report to Earth. Minutes later he received instructions to return to Terra as quickly as possible and to make a personal report to the Administrator.

Meanwhile, Earth issued a warning to the other intergalactic observation stations. The Fleet units that Quinto had mobilized along the edge of the galaxy, 5000 light years from the position of the BOB 21, were reinforced and sent on patrol. The entire Terran Fleet was on top alert.

Perry Rhodan received Nike Quinto and his men at once. The debriefing session lasted almost 6 hours and immediately thereafter Rhodan requested the Terran TV networks to give him a halfhour timeslot between 20:00 and 20:30, local Terra time.

His half-hour address was more upsetting yet more objective than the lecture once given by the cosmobiologist 100 years ago. Perry Rhodan established a firm course for extra-terrestrial policy with regard to aliens from intergalactic space.

He concluded with the words: "We have calculated that ours is not the only island universe that could have produced intelligent life. Anyone with common sense could have foreseen that sooner or later such an encounter would take place. Well, we have that first encounter behind us. And we are appalled by its frightening nature and the utterly alien mode of thinking it has revealed to us."

"But we will not give rein to our fears in this regard. We’ve seen that the aliens, to say the least, have a warlike streak in them - if indeed their entire nature and method of thinking isn’t committed to war and conquest. So we must arm ourselves, for however pleased we may be to make contact with alien intelligences we shall always protect our position within our own galaxy.

"You may rest assured that the coming months and years will demand sacrifices from us. These we will make, even to the point of war. We are Terrans, and aside from our position we have a reputation to uphold. The galaxy has its eyes on us!"

*

During a routine investigation of instruments on board the Joann, it developed a few days later that the BOB 21‘s last transmitter had become active at the last moment but that it had not developed sufficient power to complete the hypertransmission. As a result, no reception had occurred at the cruiser’s end of the circuit.

Nike Quinto immediately ordered a checkout of the automatic recordings in his transmitter room. The technicians soon found out the exact time of the incident, and the result was surprising. It had occurred between the time of Ron Landry’s return from the BOB 21 and the moment when the Joann observed the explosion of the observation station.

What this meant was immediately obvious to everyone. Meech Hannigan had made a last attempt to get away from the station. The attempt had failed.

Which was very disturbing because where Meech could be now after such a mishap - no one could say...

THE END