"002 The Third Power" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

Clark G. Fletcher, the podgy faced giant with the gentle touch, turned away from
viewing the desert and stared defiantly at Perry. But when his glance met the
steel hard gaze of his commanding officer, he nodded hesitatingly.
"Okay, Perry, we’ll talk of other things later on."
Reg caught Perry at the exit hatch. "There’s some interference with our radio
reception. Perry, I can’t pick up the United States. There must be some
extremely powerful broadcasting station very near us. This guy speaks English
with an accent and says we shouldn’t do anything, since the rescue action is
already underway."
"Rescue action!" Perry exclaimed. "What a pleasant expression for what the
Chinese no doubt have in mind for us. Tell them that we don’t need any help."
Reg did not reply. He looked past Perry. Far away, beyond the river, close to
the chain of mountains, a cloud of dust rose slowly toward the sky and settled
over the desert like a slightly duty blanket. What seemed to be tiny dots were
approaching the salt lake.
Perry followed the direction of his friend’s gaze.
"Ha! Here we are. Here they come; there’s a helicopter."
The slender body of the helicopter was shining brand new in the bright sunlight,
its whirring rotors hardly distinguishable from the naval vibration of the
heated air. The sand below the helicopter was whirled up by its descent as it
landed about 300 feet from the Stardust.
"Reg, you will remain here. Take one of the hand radiators and wait until I give
you a signal. Maximum intensity. I’m going out to meet them."
"But!"
"No buts. They want us alive. There’s no danger."
Reg disappeared, returning some five seconds later. In his hand he clutched a
silvery rod with a multifaceted lens at one end. A small red button on its side
could be moved up and down a slide or pushed in wherever needed.
Perry nodded briefly and descended the ladder, walking toward the helicopter’s
landing site. Two men in the uniform of the army of the Asiatic Federation bad
disembarked from the vehicle. They studied him curiously as he approached.
The pilot of the helicopter remained in the cabin, his bands nervously clasping
the stock of a heavy machine gun.
Perry smiled as though he were feeling sorry for them. Wouldn’t they be
surprised!
The two officers came forward. They spoke English with hardly any trace of
accent. "We are so pleased that you made a safe landing!" said one of the
officers, the one with the gold bars. "I am Marshal Roon, commander in chief of
the land based forces of our People’s Republic, and this is Major Buta’an."
"Perry Rhodan," said Perry, inclining his head slightly "What brings you here,
if I may ask?"
Both officers were so nonplussed that they were incapable of uttering a single
sound. They exchanged hasty glances and eyed the space pilot who they thought
was in need of help. Perry smiled obligingly "It’s very nice of you to try to
help us, but it’s really quite useless. I’d give the same answer to an officer
of the American or the Soviet army, if that puts your mind at ease."
"I don’t quite understand what you mean," Roon admitted, smoothing out the
wrinkles that had accumulated in his trousers from sitting so long in the
helicopter. "You made an emergency landing, did you not? You need our help. Or
can you start under your own power?"