Twilight Of The Gods Part 6

"Ever since I was a child, though only at an unconscious level. Just a week ago I realized that I have telepathic powers. But I don't know why."

"When were you born?"

"Not too long after the Second World War. Why?" Various possibilities crossed Rhodan's mind, combinations whizzed by, relays clicked, and then be knew the solution. "Atomic radiation, of course. Hiroshima, H bomb testing, fallout! There must be many more of you mutants running around in the world by now."

"Mutants?"

"Change of the genetic heritage. The radiation influenced the structure of your brain when you were conceived." In the tiny pause that Perry Rhodan let intervene, another mighty vision of the future rose in front of his eye. Mutants! An entirely new perspective opened up before him. If he could find all these mutants, at least the most capable among them, and engage them for his cause, then he could create an unbeatable troop. Perhaps he would need such a troop at some future datea He stopped his thought, for he noticed the expression of amazement on Marshall's face. Perry Rhodan had almost forgotten that the other man was capable of reading his thoughts. Automatically he screened off his thoughts behind a barrier that would not let his thought waves pa.s.s. This was one of the new abilities he had acquired during his hypnotraining with the indoctrinator.

"Why did you begin to talk to me?"

John Marshall smiled uncertainly. "I had intended to make money with my talents," he admitted frankly. "Since yesterday I have been negotiating with various inst.i.tutions. They offered me huge sums of money. But I believe there are more important tasks for me. You just indicated this possibility in your thoughts."

Perry Rhodan breathed a sigh of relief. "You mean to say you would be willing to work for me?"

"Yes, indeed."

"But I am not in a position so far to pay you for your services."

"There are things that are more valuable than any amount of money-for instance, ideals."

"Ideals? What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't that the reason you are fighting against the whole world? It is not power alone that motivates you!"

"Power plays some role, too, I confess. But even power can help to make ideals come true."

"That's right! I am therefore ready and willing if you want me."

Perry took a closer look at the man. He liked him, quite apart from his special gifts. He held out his hand toward him. John Marshall took the proffered hand and shook it sincerely and firmly. Suddenly he looked beyond Rhodan. His eyes narrowed behind his sungla.s.ses. A strained expression replaced the look of joy on his face.

He whispered, "They are after you, Rhodan. That car across the street is an unmarked police car. It's just parking now behind your taxicab. Two men are getting out of it now-don't turn around! They are talking to the cabby. They are coming here, toward our table. What do suggest?"

Once again Rhodan's brain was working feverishly. One of the industrial managers must have given him away. Not intentionally, in all likelihood. Those guys from the International Intelligence Agency were not stupid at all. Once they picked up a scent, they did not let go of it until they tracked down their prey.

Rhodan was all ready when the two inconspicuously dressed gentlemen came to his table. He nodded imperceptibly to John, placed a five dollar bill under his plate, then got up. "We'll meet at the airport, then. In one hour. Wait for me there. They won't bother you."

John gave a sight nod. He got up and walked over to the next table as if the whole thing did not concern him in the least.

The two secret service agents hesitated for a fraction of a precious second before they approached Rhodan resolutely. One of them put his hand in his pocket; the other stepped up from behind and put his hand on Rhodan's shoulder.

"Perry Rhodan, in the name of all mankind-"

Rhodan turned around. His gray eyes pierced those the agent. "What do you want?"

"You are Perry Rhodan."

"I am Foster Douglas, if you don't mind. Don't both me!"

The agent hesitated. He had become unsure of himself. His colleague was unmoved. He withdrew his hand from his pocket. In it was a heavy gun.

"Don't make a wrong move now, Rhodan. Leave your hands just where they are. Come along with us!"

Perry Rhodan looked him straight in the eye. "I am Foster Douglas. Stop annoying me!" Several of the guest in the restaurant had turned to watch the scene. In the meanttime John Marshall was walking leisurely toward the taxi stand near the next corner.

The second agent let his weapon hand drop. He was undecided what to do. Something deep inside him told him that he had made a mistake, that this man was not Perry Rhodan at all. And yet the old previous command was still working in him.

"You will not interfere now when I leave this place," said Rhodan, looking sharply at the two men. "You did not find Perry Rhodan. Inform your superiors accordingly. Is that clear?"

One of the men nodded, but the other was hesitant.

Rhodan turned around and walked off. He was ill at ease, for he could not protect himself from a bullet fired into his back. He wanted to switch on the energy screen only in case of the greatest emergency. And to fly off with his gravity neutralizer was impossible in broad daylight. They would send light airplanes after him at once.

The two agents were still standing there undecided when Rhodan stepped into his waiting taxi. Close behind it the police car was waiting. The driver held a microphone in his hand. He kept speaking into the mike. Obviously he could not figure out his colleagues' strange behavior.

"To the airport" ordered Rhodan.

The taxi started moving and soon picked up speed.

The two agents seemed to rally from their shock. It was as if they were awakening from a bad dream. The table in front of them was unoccupied. Perry Rhodan had disappeared. Their bird had flown the coop. The diners in the restaurant were staring at them. The police car was waiting for them outside, but Rhodan's taxicab was no longer where it had been. It had disappeared too.

"What a dirty trick!" snorted the man with the gun, and ran out to their car, where he barked at the driver. "What's the matter with you? Why did you let him get away, you idiot?"

The driver put his microphone down. "Don't snap your thermostat, buddy. What are you blaming me for? It was you who let him get away. Wasn't that Rhodan?"

The other agent had joined them in the meantime. The pressure in his brain had eased. His mind was functioning normally again.

"Hypnosis! We've fallen for that Rhodan's tricks. Which way did he go?"

The driver pointed down to the next corner to the right. "Over that way. Toward the airport."

"Let's get after him! Notify headquarters."

The police car tore around the corner at breakneck speed.

In the meantime John Marshall had found a taxi. Almost simultaneously with the police car he got onto the freeway. He leaned back in his seat, trying to catch the brain waves of the excited agents. But he could not separate the confusion of the various "senders" in the police car. He could do nothing but urge his taxi driver not to lose sight of the big black car with the two agents and their driver.

The traffic observer in the helicopter hovering above the freeway observed three cars streaking along, weaving in and out of traffic. But the first car kept a constant distance, well ahead of the two others which closely followed each other. Although the freeway traffic was fairly heavy, the first car took but a few minutes to reach the parking lot near Global Airlines. Quickly Perry Rhodan paid the cab driver and ran toward the entrance. Soon he had disappeared among the crowd of arriving and departing travelers.

From somewhere came the sound of whining sirens. Policemen appeared suddenly at all the entrance and exit doors of the building. They were joined by men in civilian clothing. Their hands were in their baggy, bulging trouser pockets. The pa.s.sengers in the air terminal became restless. A loudspeaker blared above the busy din, "Keep calm, everybody! Police had to surround the building. This is an emergency measure. Just stay wherever you are. Don't move around!"

Rhodan knew that this was a civilian airport, but he had found out earlier in the day that at the end of one of the farther runways a fighter bomber of the IIA was waiting, ready to depart at a moment's notice. The crew consisted of the pilot and three other men.

Rhodan was standing in the midst of a group of noisily arguing businessmen. They were furious at the prospect of missing their planes. About fifty yards from there John Marshall tried to push toward Rhodan in an inconspicuous manner. Both the agents from the restaurant were going from group to group, searching for their man.

Rhodan made a decision. He pushed down on a b.u.t.ton at the belt of his Arkonide suit. At once the lightwave deflector began work, and Rhodan became invisible.

Cautiously, trying not to b.u.mping into anybody Rhodan moved toward John Marshall. The former bank employee was startled when he felt a disembodied touch from nowhere. Then Rhodan's thought waves penetrated his brain.

Stop here Marshall, don't move on! I am invisible for the time being. they can't find me now. As soon as they don't see me any more they'll give up their search. They can't interrupt the traffic here in the airport any length of time.

Marshall nodded his a.s.sent. They waited.

"At the end of the farthest runway over there a fighter bomber of the IIA is waiting. We'll try to reach it. You will come with me, won't you, John?"

Marshall nodded.

"Good. We can't wait here forever. Start walking slowly toward that barrier over there. As soon as I become visible again, keep very close to me. I'll place an invisible energy screen around us both. That will afford complete protection. Then we'll walk toward the fighter bomber. Do you understand me?"

Once again Marshall nodded. Slowly he began to walk. The other pa.s.sengers started moving too. They were fed up with the whole delay. They simply began to walk in all directions. n.o.body could prevent them.

Marshall pulled out his pa.s.sport for the employee at the barrier, who let him pa.s.s. Rhodan followed him closely, still invisible to the human eye. Then both men walked out onto the airfield. Several planes stood with motors running, ready to depart. Airport personnel and the police checked the papers of the pa.s.sengers who were enplaning.

You keep on moving, Rhodan thought beamed.

Marshall walked past the first craft. All the way over to the left he had perceived the waiting fighter bomber.

Two men of the crew were lying stretched out under one of the wings, taking it easy in the shade. The pilot seemed to be checking out something at the landing gear. A fourth man was sitting inside the cabin, busy receiving instructions via radio.

Marshall walked calmly toward the bomber. The pilot interrupted what he was doing and looked with interest at John.

"Watch out! I am now going to materialize again. I'll become visible."

The pilot and the men resting in the shade under the wing opened their eyes wide in utter surprise when Rhodan's figure suddenly became visible next to Marshall. They did realize, though, what had happened for the simple reason that they had been waiting on standby because of Perry Rhodan. Who else but Rhodan was capable of becoming invisible at will?

The radio officer appeared in the door of the airplane.

"You will start right away!" commanded Perry Rhodan, looking forcefully at the pilot. "You will take us along with you. How much fuel do you have? Enough to fly nonstop across the Pacific?"

The pilot had somehow recovered from his initial shock; he smiled feebly.The radio officer had disappeared into the cabin in the meantime and now he returned with a pistol in his hand.

He aimed at Perry Rhodan. "Who are you?"

"It's Rhodan," replied the pilot. "Put that gun away. It wouldn't do you much good anyhow. After all, what harm would a bullet do to a man who can render himself invisible if he wants to? He is capable of anything! Isn't that so, Mr. Rhodan?"

Perry Rhodan confirmed the man's suspicion with a nod. "You haven't answered my question yet."

"You mean the fuel? We have enough to fly you halfway around the globe. Just get on. But hurry up-my colleagues over there are wondering what's wrong. They will be here any moment now."

"He is sincere," Marshall whispered to Rhodan. "He is on your side. Odd, isn't it?"

"How about the others?"

"They don't know what to do."

Rhodan turned to the pilot. "Why do you want to help me?"

"You are forcing me to help you. I just feel I must do whatever you ask me to. Hey, Jim! Hey, Hal! Get a move on. All aboard! Let's hurry. You too, Mr. Rhodan. Otherwise those guys will get here before we can take off."

Rhodan remained on the alert. Even after the machine was in the air, he remained suspicious. After all, these men were working for the IIA. But so did Captain Klein. And the bomber crew was coming to his a.s.sistance now, acting on a voluntary basis rather than under his hypnotic influence. They had gone over to his side, ignoring their original instructions from their superiors.

As the bomber raced westward, out toward the vast stretches of the Pacific Ocean, Rhodan felt something akin to grat.i.tude. He was no longer alone; on the contrary, he had friends among the nations of the world, many friends. And suddenly he was impressed with the certainty that mankind was worthy of reigning over the galactic empire at some future date as partners of the Arkonides.

Captain Klein was in a bad mood.

He stood on a hill and looked toward the south. The huge sphere of the Arkonide s.p.a.ceship stood out clearly against the bright horizon. The Stardust I, however, looked like a dark dot, tiny and unimpressive. At regular intervals mighty detonations could be heard, exploding against the invisible wall of energy that surrounded the Stardust I base.

Deep below the spot where Klein was standing the ground was vibrating, but he could not feel it. Gigantic drills were biting into the earth and excavating a shaft with frightening speed. Special commando troops were working day and night. Down below in the valley a small hill was building up from the dug out rock and dirt. The underground dynamite explosions were m.u.f.fled by an intensified barrage aboveground against the energy dome.

There was no possibility at all of warning Rhodan. Numerous secret service agents were entrenched in outposts, waiting and keeping a close watch. The enemy's base had been completely isolated. n.o.body could come anywhere near it without being noticed instantly. Way down deep, the shaft had already crossed the line that would have been the continuation of the energy wall if it had extended its effectiveness below ground. This meant, therefore, that they had penetrated into the fortress. All that was still needed was to change the direction of the underground tunnel. Just straight up. Then they would be inside the energy bell.

But the digging did not yet turn upward. The special machines continued boring their path southward and were approaching the point that, according to exact calculations, lay directly underneath the two s.p.a.ceships. Another two days. Then the excavation of the tunnel would be completed. The hydrogen bomb was already on its way to the Gobi Desert.

Klein heard steps approaching from behind. It was Kosnow.

The Russian's face showed concern. "Rhodan is not inside the base," he said very softly, as if he were afraid someone might overhear their conversation. "Somebody recognized him in Los Angeles while he was negotiating for some machinery. According to the reports I have heard, he is supposed to have escaped in time in a fighter bomber of the IIA."

"Of all things," grinned Klein with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Then he will most likely turn up here very soon. There will be some fireworks!"

"I don't care, as long as we can warn him in time. He must know what is going on here in the meantime, what they are planning against him. In another two days they will change the direction of the underground shaft, and it will be bored straight up. There will be a tremendous increase in the bombardment against the energy wall to drown out the noise from the underground vibrations. At a depth of approximately 150 feet underneath the s.p.a.cecraft they'll detonate the H bomb. There won't be much left of Rhodan and his friends."

"There must be a way," Klein rea.s.sured him. "Even if it means that I have to get inside the dome myself to warn Perry Rhodan."

"It is absolutely impossible to get through the cordon around the base. You know that they are suspicious of us. They don't trust us at all, And Mercant for sure knows that we deliberately did not carry out our mission to destroy Rhodan and the rest of his group."

"But Mercant doesn't do anything about it. I could almost believe that deep inside he is on Rhodan's side and therefore also on ours. But I can't understand, then, why he permits this attack! I am totally confused."

"He is forced to let them continue with their preparations to wipe out the so-called enemy of all mankind. He cannot yet openly show his true colors. He is just as convinced as we are that Rhodan did the right thing when he refused to surrender the power potential of the Arkonides into the hands of one government alone. But Mercant can't admit this yet. Perhaps someday soon he will be able to tell the truth about his own convictions."

"But what if Rhodan should be annihilated in the meantime?"

"It will never happen, even if I have to sacrifice my own life to prevent it. But the explosion of the bomb is still a long way off."

"And the tunnel has not yet been completed," Confirmed Klein.

With a last glance at the distant s.p.a.ceships, they turned north and walked down to the valley. Below they could see the Caterpillar tractors transporting the rocks and dirt that had been brought out from the underground shaft on a conveyor belt system. Everywhere there were groups of technicians standing around. Colonel Cretcher was talking with Lieutenant General Tai-tiang.

A man came running across the plain that had been crisscrossed by the innumerable tracks of vehicles and earth digging machinery. The man ran up to the general, saluted and handed him a message. Tai read it, then pa.s.sed it on to Colonel Cretcher. Without waiting for a reply the general turned and walked briskly over to the next dugout. He disappeared quickly from view. Cretcher remained undecided for a moment, but then he, too, ran toward the trench and soon disappeared under the ground, running toward the entrance of the tunnel.

Kosnow frowned. He was puzzled by their odd behavior. "What was that all about?"

"Let's hurry and run after the messenger. If we can overtake him maybe well find out what's happened," suggested Klein. But before they had a chance to catch the man, the alarm sirens began to sound.

"There goes the alarm! Something must be wrong."

Just as the messenger was about to disappear into his tent, Klein got hold of his sleeve. "What's going on here?"

"Rhodan!" shouted the man, a Chinese soldier. His English was broken. "He steal airplanea"