Perry Rhodan - Mutants Vs Mutants Part 1

Perry Rhodan.

Mutants Vs Mutants.

1/ DEATH OF A MUTANT.

Captain Hawk was one of the most experienced s.p.a.ce-pilot trainers. He sat now at the controls of training craft Z-82 and demonstrated to his two best pupils how even a big s.h.i.+p could swiftly avoid all obstacles.

The Z-82 was about 30 yards in length with room enough for just a three-man crew. It could attain the velocity of light-speed and was comparatively well-armed.

At barely 500 yards alt.i.tude the torpedo-shaped training s.h.i.+p of the s.p.a.ce Academy raced above the red desert areas of Mars and skilfully dodged the occasional mountaintops of the long mountain range.

Cadet Eberhardt sat to the left of his trainer and tried to absorb and retain the innumerable manipulation moves. Not that he was stupid-quite the contrary. But even he himself could not deny it was a fact that at times his comprehension was a bit slow. Not always-by no means-but usually just at a time when it really mattered. This was his only shortcoming.

To the right of Capt. Hawk sat another cadet. In contrast to Eberhardt he was slender, tall, almost skinny. Dark-brown hair crowned the upper half of his oval face in which two brown eyes were currently sniffing gently and somewhat despondently. Cadet Julian Tifflor-Tiff to his friends and fellow students-knew almost subconsciously how to draw a heavy veil between himself and the world around him. Behind his dreaming eyes was hidden the energy of a miniature atom bomb. Despite his age-he had just turned 20-Tiff was a mathematical genius and a model of braveness and decision. He was one of the best students of the s.p.a.ce Academy.

Capt. Hawk pointed forward on a diagonal line. "You see that mountaintop, gentlemen? Okay. I'll take the s.h.i.+p as close as possible to it without hitting it. Please-observe the reaction ability of Z-82 during this manoeuvre. Of course it isn't quite as great as out in open s.p.a.ce because near to the ground we've the added use of atmospheric resistance as a brake."

"Uh-huh," said Eberhardt, nodding to Tiff, who for his part smiled quietly and placed his hands on the pseudo-controls in order to try to react at the same instant as the instructor. The electronic measuring instruments would exactly register and record each of his moves.

Eberhardt followed the example of his comrade.

The mountain peak raced closer. Indeed it looked as if the destroyer would slam full force into the bare reddish rocks but literally in the last second it shot past diagonally upwards into the dark blue sky in which the first stars were already visible.

"That was close," commented cadet Eberhardt and leaned back. "I don't think I'd ever attempt such a manoeuvre unless it was absolutely unavoidable."

"You must learn to cope with any situation you might encounter," admonished Captain Hawk as he looked at his wrist.w.a.tch. "It's time for us to return to Earth."

"Yes," agreed Tiff, lost in thought. "I've asked for overnight leave."

"While you are on duty you shouldn't think of your own funtime, cadet Tifflor. There's still a difficult flight back home ahead of us."

"Those few miserable miles!" replied Tifflor scornfully. "We'll make it in less than half an hour with this Z-82."

"I don't plan to accelerate to the speed of light, although we could do that easily with our s.h.i.+p. We'll land at Nevada Fields in three hours."

But Captain Hawk was wrong this time, though he couldn't foresee this of course. If only he had listened to Tiff's plea for a fast flight home everything might have turned out quite different and the events of the following days would have perhaps developed along other lines.

"Do you have all the calculations?" asked Hawk. "We're a.s.suming that our navigational robot is out of order and you must determine the fastest route to Earth. Without instruments. Here from this point. How long will you need for that?"

Tiff sighed and looked around. He noticed Mars, which meanwhile had shrunk to a size that filled exactly the s.p.a.cecraft's observation window over on his side. The planet swiftly grew smaller. He saw clearly the network of the ca.n.a.ls which in reality were no ca.n.a.ls but low-lying valleys with spa.r.s.e vegetation. There the roots grew down deep enough to reach as far as the meagre supplies of ground water.

In the middle of the front window stood the blue earth. A tiny celestial body he could hardly recognize as his home planet. No wonder Tiff was sighing a bit despondently and shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course calculating our course isn't that simple but it can be done. But I don't think it will even be necessary to bother with it. Our present speed allows us to navigate by direct sight."

Captain Hawk began to gesticulate angrily. "Cadet Tifflor, don't forget you're here on a training s.h.i.+p! I am fully aware we could navigate by direct sight but that isn't the point here. I want to find out if you can also orient yourself in an unknown area of s.p.a.ce without instruments. So get going, start calculating!"

Tiff threw a melancholy glance toward the constantly shrinking planet Mars and noticed suddenly that the picture in the s.h.i.+p's observation port hole over on his side began to change. Earth, too, vanished from the front window, moved rapidly over to the side and out of his sight entirely. Hawk let the Z-82 'run wild,' so that the task Tiff had to solve would be more difficult.

That, too, he shouldn't have done but who can foresee what the future will bring? Anyhow, Captain Hawk didn't know it. The Z-82 was rus.h.i.+ng through s.p.a.ce with constant acceleration. Automatic gravity fields compensated for any change in flight direction or acceleration, so that the three-man crew didn't suffer from sudden increases or decreases in G's.

Eberhardt watched, full of pity, how Tiff started jotting numbers on a piece of paper. Captain Hawk reclined at ease in his chair, letting the s.p.a.ce vehicle race into s.p.a.ce without paying any attention to the course. Soon it would be his pupil's task to set the s.h.i.+p on the right course again and later on to bring it in for a safe landing at Nevada Fields.

n.o.body observed the instruments.

n.o.body except Eberhardt.

Unfortunately, this is where his slow reactions took their toll again. Compared to any normal Earthman-this should be emphasized at this point-he reacted quite quickly. Only when compared to the average s.p.a.ce pilot did he not quite measure up.

Thus it took a full 10 seconds for him to become aware of the deflection of the sensor needle. This sensor was an instrument which constantly was sending out radar waves in all directions and then would register any reflexes that might occur. Such reflexes in empty s.p.a.ce were extremely rare considering the relatively limited range of the instrument. They would only occur if asteroids or larger meteors were pa.s.sing close by the s.h.i.+p-or when the s.p.a.cecraft happened to be in their vicinity.

Cadet Eberhardt extended his arm and pointed to the tiny screen above the sensor's dial. "There's something here," he stated perplexed. "Quite a good-sized chunk."

With a great effort Captain Hawk returned to a halfway sitting position. Then he stared spellbound at the instrument. An almost round spot was floating on the tiny screen. The spot grew rapidly in size as it came nearer to the training s.h.i.+p. With one jolt Captain Hawk came back to a completely upright position. His eyes swiftly took in the data on the dial. Then he shook his head. "A destroyer... Impossible. We're the only destroyer between Earth and Mars. Unless we change our direction be almost upon us in a few seconds. Now, he's slowing down. Strange!"

By now the slender form of the sister s.h.i.+p had become visible to the naked eye. It was looping in a broad sweep and approached once more, but this time from in front of the Z-82.

"Maybe the New Power has..." began Tiff, but Captain Hawk shook his head.

"According to the last radio message we received from the Academy, Perry Rhodan has no other destroyers at present out in s.p.a.ce. We are the only ones. If I didn't know so well this type of s.h.i.+p..."

But he couldn't manage to complete his sentence and reveal to his two pupils what then would be the case.

A blinding flash came from in front of them. An almost orange-coloured light-ray leapt from the nose of the other destroyer and sped faster than the human eye could follow toward the Z-82.

Captain Hawk didn't react fast enough and also Tiff was taken by surprise by this sudden attack. Although he bent over to the left and slammed his fist on the lever, still the energy envelope enveloped them just the fraction of a second too late.

Fortunately for them, the pilot of the other destroyer turned out to be a miserable shot. That is fortunately for the Z-82 but this luck did not include Captain Hawk.

The hostile energy ray didn't pierce the hull of the training s.h.i.+p's nose but it was as if the s.h.i.+p had run into a solid wall. Even the G's neutralizers couldn't help them out any longer. The force of the sudden impact hurled Captain Hawk out of his seat and threw him violently, head forward, against the control panel of the navigator brain.

Tiff, too, was jerked forward, but he managed to brake the sudden impact with his outstretched hands. He sprained both wrists, though he didn't notice this at all at the moment.

Cadet Eberhardt had more luck than sense. He was the only one to have fastened his safety belt-something everyone neglected as a rule. Although the safety belt almost rent him in two, it nevertheless saved him from sharing Hawk's fate. For by the time it would have occurred to Eberhardt to stretch out his arms and brake his fall forward, at least another two and a half seconds would have elapsed. And that would simply have been too long.

Tiff took in with once glance that his trainer was dead. His skull had been smashed by the impact against the control panel. But there was no time now to worry about the dead man. There were far more urgent things he had to do first-far more important.

After the apparently unsuccessful attack the other s.h.i.+p had made a turn and set out again for a frontal attack. With one leap Tiff swung himself into the now empty seat of the trainer and took over the controls. He moved out of the way by curving sharply to the right, accelerated and went over to attack the unknown enemy. All the while the wildest ideas were coursing through his brain.

Who was the pilot of the attacking destroyer? It couldn't be anybody from the s.p.a.ce Academy, that was totally unthinkable. And that a s.h.i.+p of the New Power was attempting to shoot down their own s.p.a.cecraft was just as unlikely.

But who else could it be?

Tiff had no idea that Perry Rhodan's greatest enemy had stolen three destroyers and had now proceeded to man them with his weak-willed tools who had been ordered to shoot on sight anything that was part of the New Power.

Of course, Tiff hadn't the slightest inkling of this. All he knew was that some unknown person or persons had attacked him with a s.h.i.+p so familiar to him that they had almost finished him off. To try his luck by taking flight made no sense, for the enemy would simply accelerate to the same speed as the Z-82. Besides it was quite against Tiff's nature to take to his heels and leave behind an unsolved riddle.

The hostile s.h.i.+p didn't react especially fast. Tiff steered his craft around and with an almost elegant loop succeeded in pointing the Z-82's nose directly at the flaming rear of the unknown destroyer. This was the only spot as Tiff knew theoretically-where the destroyer was vulnerable, for there was some kind of a hole in the protective energy screen to prevent the drive's pulse rays from rebounding onto the s.h.i.+p.

Tiff's eyes searched for and found the red lever of the neutron gun. All throughout the many hours of flight training he had never been permitted to even touch that legendary lever, let alone depress it. It was supposed to be used only in case of dire emergency, as Captain Hawk kept stressing, for this lever would activate a death-dealing weapon whose effect...

This emergency was now at hand.

Cadet Tifflor no longer felt bound by any rules and regulations. He was acting now in self-defence.

The enemy craft's rear came nearer as Z-82 increased its speed. Then the hostile s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p seemed to veer away to one side. With lightning speed Tiff grasped the red lever and simultaneously pushed down on it.

One second.

Two seconds.

The orange-coloured finger of energy shot out of his destroyer's nose and penetrated the flaring drive-rays of the hostile s.p.a.cecraft. With a velocity close to the speed of light the energy finger bored into the jets and advanced as far as the engine room, devouring everything along its way until it reached the Arkonide reactor.

Three seconds later Tiff let go of the red lever and pulled his destroyer sharply around. With incredible speed-it seemed as if both s.h.i.+ps were standing still-Tiff's destroyer swept close past his opponent's damaged vessel.

Fascinated, Tiff observed the effect of his neutron ray bombardment.

At first a hole became visible at the rear of the other destroyer, then the edges of the hole began to burn. A wreath of fire enveloped the s.h.i.+p's rear. A force released by a sudden and noiseless explosion then extinguished the ring of fire. The s.h.i.+p's rear broke apart and some invisible force hurled its wreckage in all directions. The s.h.i.+p's interior seemed to break loose, apparently endeavouring to separate from the rest. Now the outer hull ripped apart. The strong metal wall bent and crumpled as if it were made of tinfoil.

The destroyer broke in two, right through the middle. The enemy had been practically destroyed.

Tiff heaved a sigh of relief. Only then did he find time to look after his trainer and his fellow student.

Captain Hawk was lying collapsed in a heap between the pilot's seat and the front wall. There was no doubt that he was dead. Nevertheless, Tiff checked for the presence of any vital signs, but there weren't any. Cadet Eberhardt, who had been silently sitting next to Tifflor, unable to do anything, was slowly recovering from his shock. His first remark was typical for him. "Now we are without our instructor. How will we get back to Earth?"

Tiff repressed his anger. "Eberhardt, aren't you over-looking that we have quite a few hours of training behind us? Besides, I've already calculated our flight course. We'll be landing on Earth in two hours. Now, will you help me bring Captain Hawk back to his cabin?"

They placed their dead trainer on his cot and covered him up. He would be laid to his final rest in his small hometown back on Terra. His students however would never forget him, when later on they would roam through the wide expanses of s.p.a.ce as the brave commanders of their proud s.h.i.+ps, for whatever they were and knew they owed to him-Captain Hawk.

The rudderless nose of the hostile s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p had moved only very slightly over to the side. Later on it would drift off into the asteroid belt.

Tiff narrowed his eyes and examined the wreck.

Its front part was undamaged but the other side, where it had been rent apart, resembled a rubble heap. Molten panels of the cabin and half-way vaporized metal plates of the hull jutted out from among the jagged edges. Nearby drifted bent and crumpled pieces whose origin and purpose were no longer recognizable.

But amidst this wreckage there might still remain an undamaged cabin in which the unknown foe were locked in helplessly. Perhaps they were still armed with hand weapons but they could use these of course only if one were to penetrate their sealed s.p.a.ce tombs.

And this was exactly what Tiff had in mind. He said to Eberhardt: "Let's have a look at those fellows who wanted to send us to h.e.l.l."

And he started to steer the Z-82 close to the wreck. He glanced significantly at the built-in small cabinet, looked at the remote controls and murmured: "Some-body ought to climb into his pressurized s.p.a.cesuit now and leave our s.h.i.+p through the airlock to pay a visit over there and look around."

"Sure," agreed Eberhardt. "That would be a splendid idea."

Tiff was waiting. But he waited in vain. For there was nothing else that Eberhardt intended adding to his remark. The subject had been sufficiently explored for his taste.

"I'm glad you agree. This somebody will be you, my friend. Get going; climb into your s.p.a.cesuit and transfer to the wreck over there. Take along one of our ray guns in case the doors are stuck."

"Why me?" Eberhardt's eyes took on the size and shape of small saucers. "I'm supposed to leave our s.h.i.+p? All alone? And then clear out that band of gangsters? Listen, cadet Tifflor, I'm a s.p.a.ce pilot not an FBI agent."

"Commander Tifflor, if you please," corrected Tiff and a.s.sumed a most official-looking mien. "And hurry up for a change!"

Eberhardt shrugged his shoulders, rose slowly from his seat and took a pulse-ray gun from the weapon cabinet on the wall. All the training s.h.i.+ps of the Academy were equipped with this absolutely fatal weapon, built according to an Arkonide principle. He threw a last desperate glance at Tiff, waited in vain for a sign of compa.s.sion and finally moved over to the door. There he stopped.

"I'll finish off that gang and avenge Hawk," he said triumphantly. "I'll do it, all by myself. And what will you do, Tiff?"

"I'll make sure that nothing untoward will befall you meanwhile," Tiff rea.s.sured him as cool as a cuc.u.mber and pointed to the red lever of the neutron cannon. "At least I'll try to do my best, I promise."

Eberhardt swallowed hard and without further comment left the cabin. Tiff waited until the green control light lit up before he started the process of depressurising and vacuumising the airlock.

The Z-82 was now hovering apparently without motion about 30 feet next to the wreck. Once Tiff believed for a moment he'd seen some movement behind one of the dark bull's-eyes of the cabin but this might have been just an optical illusion. But no, there it was again! He could clearly make out the outlines of a human figure. A weak light flared up. Of course there could be no electric current over there and they had to make do with weak batteries. Provided they had any besides their flashlights. Their radio installation had also been destroyed by the detonation.

A red light began to glow on the front panel near Tiff. The airlock had been pumped empty and Eberhardt had opened the exit hatch. Similar abandon-s.h.i.+p manoeuvres in deep s.p.a.ce had been practiced many times by them but this time it was for real. And besides, n.o.body could know what dangers might be lurking over there in the wreck. It was quite possible that the pirates-that's what the unknown enemy were considered to be by Tiff-had their own pressurized s.p.a.cesuits with them in their cabin.

Now Eberhardt became visible. He was floating, attached to a thin line, close in front of Tiff as he slowly approached the rotating wreck. The shadow behind the window hatch of the broken-off nose of the formerly hostile s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p seemed suddenly to freeze. He too must have caught sight of Eberhardt.

Eberhardt braked gently as he landed on the hull of the wreck. Cautiously he moved ahead until he reached the window hatch. He peered inside and saw the face of a man who stared at him with wide open, horror-filled eyes.

The stranger was wearing a s.p.a.cesuit, however his helmet was not closed. His dark skin indicated he might be a mulatto but Eberhardt wasn't quite sure. In any case he was filled with deep satisfaction when he could clearly recognize the fear expressed in the other's face.

He nodded grimly toward the man and showed him his pulse-ray gun, just to make sure. Then he crept carefully toward the torn-up part of the nose. A glance sufficed for Eberhardt to determine that he had in front of him a corridor which led to the various cabins of the s.h.i.+p. By some miracle the door to the command centre had remained untouched.

What now?

He wanted to seize the unknown foe alive, for n.o.body would be helped by his death. For they were naturally most interested to find out who their opponents' were and who was hiding behind this incomprehensible attack. Therefore Eberhardt grasped his raygun and knocked with it against the door. Three times.

Of course he couldn't hear anything for there was no air to conduct the sound. But the person inside the cabin could hear the knock at the door.

Eberhardt leaned his helmeted head against the door. If the unknown should knock against it, in turn the vibrations would be transferred to the air inside his helmet. Hardly 10 seconds had pa.s.sed when he heard three knocks. That could only mean they were ready to negotiate.

Eberhardt thanked his fate that he had always paid attention during their radio training. He remembered the sarcastic remarks which many of his fellow students couldn't help uttering when they had to learn the Morse alphabet. Why bother learning the Morse code in an era when there existed direct audio-visual communication over distances spanning interplanetary s.p.a.ce?

Well, at this moment he realized suddenly why they had been bothered with such antiquated trifles.

Almost automatically he replied and knocked out a message in Morse code: Close your helmet and open the door a bit. Come out backwards. Unarmed. I am waiting.

There was no answer but a minute later the door opened. There was a rush of air as it escaped through the opened cabin door. It almost dragged Eberhardt with it but he held fast to one of the twisted stays. In his right hand he held his pulse-ray gun, ready to shoot, pointed at the c.h.i.n.k in the door.

First he saw an arm that cautiously groped backwards, then appeared the back of a s.p.a.cesuit. It was the same type as worn by the cadets of the Academy. Therefore he had also...

Eberhardt cursed himself because he hadn't at once thought of it. With a quick movement he flipped on his miniaturized radio installation. The other fellow might have switched his own on for quite some time already.

Sure enough, it was the case.