What he had a.s.sumed to be a trap was no more than an apparatus for cleansing the trunks of his enemies. He watched incredulously when one of the Unithers reclined on the contraption and when he realized the purpose it brought an amused smile to his lips.

The 3 shipwrecked people took turns submitting to the treatment of the machine. Khrest watched them quietly. To think of escape was useless now. He would have to prepare his future moves very carefully. He was determined not to repeat his hasty mistake a second time. The Arkonide stroked his hair, which had begun to dry out again.

Night descended on the world which Perry Rhodan had called Khrest's Planet and the light in the room grew dim. Khrest felt the strain and was tired. For the firstime he regretted that he was so old. What good was his mental prowess if his foes were physically superior? This time the eternal struggle between intelligence and brute force seemed to be decided in favour of the latter.

The tallest of his captors, the one who had saved Khrest's life twice, turned to the Arkonide. "Me Golath," he announced in halting Interkosmo.

Khrest responded politely. "My name is Khrest." He speculated apprehensively whether the shipwrecked aliens had come from a distant colony of the Arkonide empire.

"We from Unith," Golath explained, pointing to himself and his companions. Then he poked his trunk at Khrest. "You Arkonide?" he growled.

He is not very fond of my race, Khrest thought. Not that I can blame him.

Golath studied Khrest thoughtfully. Khrest wondered what went on in that round crude skull. He found it difficult to discern the emotions of the alien being.

"Give me the ship that can fly to the stars," Golath demanded without further ado.

Khrest hoped they would not search him. It worried him that they might happen to recognize the purpose of the transmitter on his wrist. "I need it myself," he replied firmly. "You can't have it."

Golath jammed the barrel of his thermo-beamer against Khrest's chest. The red eyes of the Arkonide looked at him calmly. Not a muscle in his lined face moved.

"Now you will give me your ship!" Golath grunted in antic.i.p.ation.

Khrest's answer was short and clear. "No!"

The Unither put his weapon back in his holster and rolled up his trunk. His big eyes gave no sign whether he was angry or not. He slapped Khrest on the shoulder and declared: "You are prisoner now."

Khrest gave no answer. Obviously these desperate men had no intention of letting him go free. They would probably keep trying to persuade him with rougher methods but Khrest preferred not to think about it too much.

Golath motioned the others with his trunk. Khrest followed them with his eyes as they left the room and locked the hatch behind them. Now he was alone again.

The impulse-beamer! was his first thought. They failed to see it.

Khrest quickly jumped up. The weapon had slipped under the trunk-cleaner. He retrieved it and hid it under his tunic. Then he returned to his chair.

The room had a second exit which was also locked. The exit led to the nose of the ship where, as Khrest recalled, the hull was cracked open wide enough to allow a man to get out. Apparently the Unithers had seen the damage and had barred both exits for that reason.

Now it was completely dark. The quiet around him seemed to be deceiving. Khrest had retained a good mental picture of his surroundings and was confident that he could walk in any direction without b.u.mping into an object again. In particular he would be sure to avoid the trunk-cleaner.

He tensely listened to the quiet but could hear nothing except his own breath. Then he got up again and walked to the second exit. Once he stepped on some gla.s.s and the crunching noise made him wince. He paused and waited a moment. He reflected that they must have expected him to investigate his surroundings since they had neglected to tie him up.

He cautiously continued on his way, taking his time to reach his goal. He touched the cold metal of the door and moved his hands over the smooth surface. He found the handle and took a deep breath. The handle moved under pressure and Khrest leaned against the hatch which-to his surprise-gave way under his weight.

Everything was silent in the ship and he hesitated no longer. This was his chance. He opened the door just wide enough to pa.s.s through. Then he groped his way along the wall of the corridor which led to the nose of the ship.

Khrest could not help smiling a little in astonishment about his easy escape. Was it possible that his foes considered him so infirm that they felt it superfluous to guard him? However he had no time to ponder the reasons for their negligence. He had to get out as quickly as possible. Once he reached the s.p.a.cejet he would be safe from his enemies.

He soon found the crack in the hull as some light penetrated the gap from outside. He drew his impulse-beamer and climbed out but there was n.o.body to challenge him. The Unithers seemed to be sleeping somewhere in the ship.

"Your tough luck," Khrest murmured jubilantly and ran as fast he could in the direction of the s.p.a.cejet.

Zerft parted the branches over the hole in the ground and impatiently looked out at the slope. It was much too dark to see anything, however.

"He can't be here yet," Golath said. "He's old and slow. He probably waited some time after we left him."

They crouched together in the hole which they had dug a few hours earlier. It was close enough to the little s.p.a.ceship to enable them to attack the Arkonide the moment he lifted the protective screen.

"I've got a sinking feeling that something will go wrong," Zerft grumbled in disgust.

"Don't talk so loud!" Golath shushed him. "Do you want him to hear us?"

Zerft sat down again. "Why can't I have a gun?" he asked peevishly. "I gave you my promise I won't oppose you on this job."

Golath gazed at the huge shadow of his partner, twiddling the weapon in his hands, undecided.

"Give it to him," Liszog urged him. "It will be safer for us."

Golath yielded reluctantly. Zerft used his trunk to take the raygun. His unpleasant laugh made Golath cringe.

"You may shoot only after the shield is gone," Golath reminded him sharply. "If you kill him too soon, all will be in vain."

"Don't worry," Zerft replied. "It doesn't make that much difference to me if the Arkonide dies a few moments later."

The cold voice made Liszog shudder. For Golath it was another proof of his ruthlessness. The soil was damp and cool and he felt chilly. His mind began to wander and he returned in thought to his life on Unith. Before he had become a thief he had pursued a respectable occupation. But then that woman with the lithe and well-shaped trunk had come into his life and everything had gone downhill from that point on. He was tantalized by the wildest temptations and became involved in affairs of which he had always disapproved. He began to steal in order to increase his income and shower the alluring woman with presents. He didn't care where he got the money and fell in with a gang of thieves with whom he shared the loot. It all came to a bad end with Zerft and Liszog. They were given the worst punishment a Unither could receive: they were deprived of their civil rights and expelled from the community of their people. Subsequently they were deported in the Kaszill with the provision that they were permitted to return only if they could render an extraordinary service to their people which would restore their honour in their home planet.

Golath's face became distorted in distress when he thought what a fool he had been and he considered it an undeserved stroke of good luck that fate had given him the opportunity to go back to Unith with a superb new s.p.a.ceship. Too bad that an old Arkonide had to die so that he could save himself. There was nothing he could do about that. The misdeeds committed by the Arkonides justified the death of the old man.

Liszog stirred restlessly and disturbed Golath's reflections.

"What's the matter?" Golath whispered. He tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes and listened for a sound in the surroundings in vain. It was as silent as a grave. Presumably they would hear the Arkonide before they could see him. This would suit him perfectly because the fugitive was not likely to detect them.

"He's taking his time," Zerft said cantankerously. "Maybe he's dismantling the Kaszill while we're marking time here."

"That wouldn't be a great loss," Golath said disdain-fully.

"What if he can't find his way out of the Kaszill or doesn't believe he could gain his freedom?" Liszog expressed his pessimistic view.

"He won't sit around twiddling his thumbs," Golath replied with great conviction, making a sweeping gesture which loosened some soil and made it fall on their feet. "I expect him to find the open exit sooner or later and he will realize that there is nothing to keep him from escaping through the broken front end of the ship."

As he spoke it began to rain. At first there were only a few drops but soon it rained harder. Zerft huddled with his clothes tightly wrapped around his body.

"It's getting cold," Liszog complained. "I hope we won't have to spend all night here in this rain."

Golath found the rain pleasant. The water ran over his burning face. Before long the rain formed rivulets of water on the surface which spilled into their hole. The three Unithers were forced to stand all night shoulder to shoulder in their hiding place. As they waited the rain collected more and more water at the bottom of the excavation. Eventually their bodies were soaked through and through. They stopped talking to each other. Once Liszog dozed off and began snoring loudly and Golath had to wake him up with a little jab to his ribs. They strained their ears and kept waiting all night for the Arkonide. Their trunks became stiff from the cold. At times Golath himself threatened to be overcome by fatigue.

Alas, the Arkonide never arrived. Golath's plan had spurred great hope in them but now it had failed. When the new day dawned Zerft climbed out of the hole. The soil was so muddy that he slid back several times. "Come on out!" he shouted, quaking with fury. "Look at your beautiful trap from up here, Golath!"

Golath was too dejected to answer Zerft. They had failed to outsmart the old man.

Zerft brandished his thermo-beamer, swinging it around like a club. He looked vicious and screamed vituperatively: "There is only one way to deal with an Arkonide. This is it!" He pointed to his gun. Then he took off in the rain and his dark brown figure soon vanished in the distance as Golath followed him with his eyes over the rim of the ditch.

"What's he up to now?" Liszog inquired.

"He's out to kill the old man," Golath replied tiredly. "He hates all Arkonides and what they stand for."

Golath dug his hands into the slippery rim and pulled himself up while Liszog gave him a boost. He was wet and muddy.

"Help me to get out," Liszog asked, stretching out his arms.

Golath shook his trunk. "No," he refused. "One of us must stay here. It's still possible that the Arkonide will come back. You better not fall asleep."

"I'm freezing," Liszog protested meekly.

"It's better to suffer a little cold than get stuck on this planet forever," Golath retorted. "Don't forget that!"

Liszog looked miserable. However he tried to make a show of bravado under the stern gaze of Golath. "Where are you going, Golath?" he asked.

"To the Kaszill," Golath explained quickly. "I'll try to remove the generators. We may have to use them to get through the screen into the s.p.a.ceship."

"Don't be long!" Liszog urged but Golath was already gone.

Liszog uttered a faint sigh. He was plagued by rain, mud and cold. He scanned the ground in the light of the dawn, feeling lonely and deserted. The youth curled up his trunk. Suddenly he was struck by the thought that he might die in their efforts to return to Unith. The thought wormed into his mind and he was unable to shut it out.

Who cared if he rotted on this planet? n.o.body would even know about his death except Golath and Zerft and they were not activated by friendly feelings toward him. He was alone, standing in a dirty quagmire, freezing and hungry, thousands of light-years away from home.

And if he wanted to attain his wish of seeing his home again, he would have to kill a man-an old man. Who gave him the right to do that? Despite his qualms Liszog knew that he would shoot the prisoner if necessary.

They had to capture the ship one way or another.

Khrest was under the impression that he made good time on his way to his ship. Actually he made very slow headway. He frequently paused to gasp for air. His old legs didn't have the strength to carry him without rest.

When he fell to the ground it was not because he had tripped over an obstacle, it was because his knees had weakened to the point of buckling. He took a hard fall and remained p.r.o.ne for some time, breathing heavily and pressing his face against the cool earth. His exhausted body was so limp that it took all his willpower to get up again. It was his greatest fear that he would die of exhaustion before he could achieve the safety of the s.p.a.cejet.

He limped along, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his ankle and wondering whether his escape had already been noticed. Perhaps they were by now in hot pursuit. Or would they furtively follow his trail till he had reached the s.p.a.cecraft and pounce on him the moment he lifted the protective barrier?

That's it! The logic of the conclusion was inescapable. My escape was too simple. I was supposed to lead the three Unithers to the last place I wanted them to go: right into my s.p.a.ceship!

Khrest was aghast. "How could I have been so blind?" he chided himself. If his adversaries did not walk close behind in his footsteps they must already be lying in ambush near the s.p.a.cecraft and he would have fallen into their trap.

A raindrop splashed his forehead and a few minutes later the rain came down in buckets. Khrest felt miserable. He was dismayed by his waning physical condition and wondered where he would find the strength to keep up the fight against his enemies. Fight? He smiled sadly. All he had done so far was run away.

He stopped to figure out what to do next. The vicinity of the s.p.a.cecraft was dangerous territory which was better avoided. There was only one alternative which, however, he did not consider very promising either. He could flee into the forest. This would not be difficult for a young man but it was a terrible hardship for him to fight the inclements of the weather and the beasts of the primeval forest. It would be torture to his frail body. If he sought refuge in the forest now, there might never be a return for him.

Nonetheless he decided to turn back. He turned his face upwards and let the rain fill his dry mouth, which helped make him feel better. He started to limp back. It was tough going but it was made a little easier for him by the gravitation which was one-sixth less than on Terra, a difference that was quite noticeable.

By the time he was back at the vessel of the Unithers his ankle was almost numb with pain. He took off his sandal and examined the injury. His ankle was badly swollen and felt very hot. Although he had abundant medical supplies at his home, he didn't dare go there anymore. He tore off a piece of his tunic and dipped it in a puddle. Then he wrapped it tightly around his foot. This was the best he could do under the circ.u.mstances.

All was quiet aboard the stranded vessel of the condemned Unithers as the rain pattered on its hull. Khrest was now firmly convinced that his tormenters were lying in wait for him with drawn weapons in the proximity of the s.p.a.cejet. He was determined to make it as difficult for the Unithers as he could. He was anxious to prove to them that an Arkonide was an opponent not to be underestimated regardless of his age.

200 ADVENTURES FROM NOW.

There's Alarm in Sector Eos

6/ BATTLE IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.

Khrest reached the edge of the forest. His body felt leaden. His clothes were dripping wet and clung to his skin. The pain in his foot had abated a little. The ground was so saturated with water from the prolonged rain that each step made him sink down.

He tottered to a tree and leaned against its trunk, grateful that the dense foliage shielded him from the rain. Only a few heavy drops penetrated the leaves. The bark of the tree was rough and splintered, exuding a musty smell. A rustling noise emanating from the dark forest reminded Khrest of its dangers.

The acid-squirters roamed the forests only during the day and he did not have to fear an attack from them. By contrast the horned burrowers were predators of the night. They emerged from their holes after dark to go on the prowl. The meter-long barrel-shaped beasts had short st.u.r.dy legs and were capable of developing considerable speed. Their forelegs were built like spades and the burrowers used them to dig underground. Their bodies were covered with thick h.o.r.n.y plates. Two pairs of mighty claws grew like pincers from their skulls. They were powerful enough to kill bigger victims than Khrest.

The Arkonide recalled Ufgar's account of these beasts. Two companions of the eminent discoverer were injured by the horned burrowers and the acid-sprayers had claimed three fatalities. However, both animals were vulnerable to the impulse-beamer-if he could protect himself in time.

Khrest desperately needed some sleep. To sleep on the ground would be tantamount to committing suicide. He penetrated deeper into the forest. The underbrush became thicker and Khrest got stuck several times. Finally he found a tree whose strong branches were low enough to pull himself up. Considering his age and poor condition Khrest performed a formidable feat by climbing the tree. Up there he would be safe from the horned burrowers who were not built to get up on trees. He chose a heavy branch and sat down, leaning his back against the trunk. It was not the height of comfort but in his situation he could hardly afford to be very finicky." He listened for a while to the rustling of the leaves and the patter of the rain and then fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

A cacophony of screeching and chirping birds woke him up in the morning. It was bright daylight and the rain had stopped. The air was pleasantly warm. Khrest rubbed his face. To his surprise he felt well-rested and the repose had been very beneficial to his wounded foot. He felt hungry. Not far from him a red bird perched on a thin twig, screaming its indignation over Khrest's intrusion into the fresh air. When Khrest moved inadvertently it flew hastily away.

When Khrest looked down a cold shudder ran along his spine. He was suddenly wide awake. His luck had run out.

Only a few meters from his tree stood one of the trunk-people, clutching a thermo-beamer in his fist.

Zerft's blind rage had evaporated, yielding to reason. It would be senseless to run around in the forest like a madman. That was not the way to find the Arkonide. A shadow crossed his face whenever he thought of Golath and his botched plan. They should have shown no mercy to the Arkonide from the beginning. He vehemently deplored the fact that he depended on Golath as the only one who knew how to fly the alien ship.

Zerft was certain the prisoner had fled into the forest. He probably had seen through their scheme. Zerft had thoroughly searched the Kaszill without finding the Arkonide. The hatch leading to. the nose of the ship was wide open. The rain had washed out Khrest's tracks, leaving no clues for Zerft. As soon as it was completely light again, Zerft left the Kaszill and headed for the forest because it was his opinion that the Arkonide would be found there. Once he looked back and saw Golath go into the wrecked vessel. However he no longer paid any attention to the inept endeavours of his rivals.

Zerft figured that the fugitive was an old man who would be incapable of penetrating very deeply into the forest. This fact would limit his search to a fairly small area and he began to comb his surroundings systematically.

After pursuing the manhunt for some time an odd animal appeared on the scene. It was only half as big as Zerft and not nearly as broad. The first impression was quite ridiculous. It seemed to consist of two segments, a slim round rump and a thick oval head. It's body was covered by a dense black fur which extended so far down that the legs of the animal could not be seen. When it moved it looked as if it were borne on a cushion of air from which Zerft concluded that it must have innumerable feet. By contrast the head of the animal was completely bare. It was covered by scars. Several tiny eyes looked like dark holes. There were also other openings whose purpose Zerft was unable to determine at first glance.

For a moment the two stared at each other. The animal was at least as surprised as Zerft. It watched him motionlessly. Then it uttered a peculiar smacking noise which was somewhat similar to the sound of the brawlers on Unith. Zerft studied it curiously. The animal sounded off again. Then it turned around and slowly retreated.