The Atom Hell of Grautier - Kurt Mahr, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 2
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IS THE CHIEF DEAD?
A DARK AGE seems to have begun for mankind with the death of Perry Rhodan’s beloved
Arkonide wife Thora.
Is Rhodan himself dead?
The fear spreads like wildfire as 500,000 men wait in vain for a command from their Chief.
Discovering that the positronic Robot Brain on Arkon is, even beyond the menace of the
Druufs, in actuality the greatest danger to Earth, the Solar Administrator has ordered the
entire massed might of the Terranian Spacefleet to stand in readiness for a
blitzkrieg
aimed
at destroying the threat of the non-human ruler of Arkon.
But Perry Rhodan is on the secret base on Grautier when that planet dies–and Rhodan with
it?—in
THE ATOM HELL OF GRAUTIER
1/ SURPRISE ATTACK
The moment the
Rigel
came out of transition, Paul Brackett saw fleeting green flashes flit across the
oscillograph screen. Brackett was still wracked by the pain of the hypertransition but he knew at once
what the flashes meant.
The
Rigel
, battlecruiser of the Terran Fleet, was on its way back to the fleet base on the planet Grautier.
In the vicinity of the overlapping zone where the time-planes of the Druuf Universe and the Einstein
Universe met, the
Rigel
had discharged supplies for the secret base on the planet Hades in the Druuf
system, transporting them by means of the matter transmitter. The operation had required several hours,
hours in which fully half the 800-man crew was kept busy keeping a watch out for the ships of the
Arkonide blockade fleet. Arkon was maintaining a constant patrol around the overlapping zone, throwing
back the Druufs each time they attempted to cross-over into the Einstein Universe. The Terran fleet base
was unknown to the Arkonides and for the time being it was Terra’s chief concern to keep it that way.
That meant that Earth ships had to make use of every possible security measure for traffic between
Grautier and the overlapping zone, which was only a few light-years away and at the same time the
theatre of operations for the Arkonide blockade fleet, so that the Arkonides would not learn where the
base was.
 That had succeeded in the past weeks—a masterpiece of the tactics of throwing the hounds off the trail,
as everyone had to admit. However, Paul Brackett was convinced the catastrophe was now beginning.
The flashes had crossed the screen of the oscillograph towards the right and disappeared. The entire
incident had not lasted any longer than 2 or 2½ seconds. But the Robot Regent on Arkon had its spies
listening everywhere, and with the close attention they paid to every unexpected or unexplained signal, an
even briefer one would not have escaped them.
Paul Brackett’s oscillograph was connected to the
Rigel’s
frequency damper, which prevented the
energy radiated by the ship’s hyper-engines at the beginning and ending of each transition from being
discharged into space. Instead the energy was absorbed within the ship.
If the damper had functioned flawlessly, Paul Brackett would not have been able to see green Æ’ashes.
Since he had seen them, the damper was not operating properly. The residue of energy from the
transition had been released into space and at that moment, somewhere within a range of at most 5
light-years, an Arkonide tracking specialist was occupied with interpreting the strange signals. As a
consequence of its 5th dimensional structure, the wave field of the energy discharge radiated at an
immeasurably high speed.
There was no doubt about it. In a few minutes at most, the Arkonides would know what to make of the
signals; Two minutes later they would have fixed the point in space from which the signals came.
That point was Myrtha, central star of the Grautier system, only 20 Astronomical Units away; once the
Arkonides had determined that much, they would know where to look further.
Brackett gave the alarm. The howling of sirens filled the ship, penetrating even the most remote corners.
Conversations died away. Crewmen got moving and hastily slid into their places.
Brackett picked up the intercom microphone and explained to the crew what had happened At the same
time, the communications officer sent a brief report to Grautier.
"It can mean
anything
," Brackett concluded, "up to and including the appearance of an Arkonide
battlefleet of 10,000 ships sent to Grautier to destroy the base there."
The mass takeoff was well under way. One ship after another raised itself from the ground and shot with
roaring engines into the blue sky, the mighty colossi of the superbattleships lifting off and flying as lightly
and gracefully as the shining spheres of the light cruisers.
The Terran Fleet was on its way from Grautier to Arkon, on its way to demonstrate in no uncertain
terms what Terrans thought of allies who thought only of their own advantage.
This was a red letter day for Perry Rhodan, this 23d of October, 2043. The combined power of Terra
was winding up for the pitch against Arkon; the Earth was preparing to show the galactic powers what
role it intended to play from here on in.
Under the command of Gen. Deringhouse, the units of the fleet assembled at a point far from all travelled
space routes, about 500 light-years from Grautier. Only 23 ships remained on Grautier itself, along with
the minimum number of men necessary to maintain the operation of the base, for a few vessels were still
out in space either on the way to or returning from the overlapping zone from which the base in the Druuf
Universe, on the planet Hades, was being transmitted supplies.
 The
Rigel
, for example, was still out in space.
Besides the base personnel, four important men were also left behind on Grautier. They had a number of
important affairs to attend to and would join the waiting fleet later, shorty before the moment the attack
on Arkon was to begin. Those men were Perry Rhodan; Atlan, the Arkonide; Reginald Bell; and the
mutant Fellmer Lloyd.
In a deep bunker away from the area of the base proper, they were occupied with calculating the final
details of the action against the Arkonide Robot Regent with the help of a large positronicon.
They began with the work shortly after 1100 hours, Terranian Time.
At 1134 hours, a battlecruiser named.
Rigel
commanded by Maj. Paul Brackett had finished its task in
the overlapping zone and, observing all security measures, was on its return flight to Grautier.
The four men on Grautier had divided the work among themselves and laboured with the utmost
concentration of men who wanted to complete their work as quickly and as thoroughly, as possible.
The first interim report came from Reginald Bell. In front of him lay a sheet of computer printout paper,
covered from top to bottom with letters and numbers, he read it through carefully, then cleared his throat.
"We have to put off Zero Hour for at least 4 hours," he said. He continued to stare at the sheet of paper,
not looking around. However, he was certain that the others had interrupted their work to look up at him.
"Too many alternate possibilities?" asked Rhodan.
"Right," Bell answered. "The computer came up with 2433 different branch possibilities. Each branch
divides in the middle into 5 subpossibilities, which partly come together again towards the end." Then he
looked up and continued. "All this information has yet to be programmed into the ships’ cybernetic
sections. We could certainly put the program itself together in half an hour but it would take us longer to
distribute it among all the ships."
Perry Rhodan had turned his seat and now sat with his back to the programming counter. On his right
was Atlan, who sat with his left elbow against the counter top, supporting his head in his left hand. The
Arkonide looked thoughtfully at Reginald Bell.
"I suggest we delete all branch possibilities and their sub-branches with less than 0.4 probability," said
Atlan. Rhodan smiled faintly. "I see the Admiral is renouncing his usual caution and is declaring himself
ready for taking simplified steps," he said mockingly; but there was no mirth in it.
Atlan turned his head. "You know we can’t delay the Zero Hour as long as we might like. The Regent
has ships everywhere. It’ll know the score as soon as it discovers an assembling of Terran ships and after
that it’ll be too late for us."
Rhodan nodded. "I know that. But if I eliminate all branch possibilities with less than 0.4 probability, I’ll
be taking an enormous risk. 0.4 is not a little when you consider that a figure of 1.0 makes a certainty out
of the possibility."
Atlan shrugged his shoulders.
"Let’s take a clear look at this for once," suggested Reginald Bell. "The probability calculator of the
 positronicon has found all together about 5000 stem possibilities—in other words, 5000 different ways in
which the Regent might conceivably react to our attack. All these 5000 together have a probability of
0.98—which means that whatever the Regent does will most likely be one of those 5000 possibilities.
The remaining 0.02 left from an absolute 1.00 is divided into 10,000 more possibilities which the
computer does not list in detail because they are too unlikely. We’ve discarded all stem possibilities with
a probability of less than 0.06. That reduces the number of stems to 17.
"Let’s say that one of the stem possibilities is that the Regent will react to our attack by removing the
blockade fleet. Then we’ll have more than 10,000 ships on our backs inside of a few minutes. This stem
possibility has a probability of 0.13, so it’s one of those we have to take into consideration."
"Now we come to the branch possibilities. One of these is that the Regent will order the blockade fleet
to form a defence ring around Arkon 3 instead of attacking us. We’re prepared for that too. This branch
possibility has the probability of 0.44, so it lays above the boundary Atlan set. It’s just as probable that
the Regent will have the fleet attack us. There remains a probability of 0.12 for some other branch
possibility, if not several. For example, the blockade fleet might land on Arkon 2, take important materiel
on board, perhaps even dismantled pieces of the Regent itself under certain circumstances, and then fly
off thumbing its nose at us. According to Atlan’s suggestion, we’d have to ignore this branch,possibility."
He sighed and rubbed his hand over the stubble of his hair. "I don’t think we can afford to do that."
"I agree," said Rhodan earnestly. "The idea is good but the suggestion itself is too sweeping, ignoring as it
does important possibilities. We’ll eliminate all branch possibilities of less than 0.1. How many branches
are left now?"
Bell figured. "35," he answered.
"That’s enough. If we do the same to the sub-branches how many of those are left?"
"41."
This time the calculation lasted somewhat longer.
"0.937."
Perry Rhodan struck the counter top, making a slapping sound with his hand. "That’ll satisfy us," he
decided, "even if you take in account the fact the Regent will make every effort to calculate the least likely
reaction possible."
"Fine," agreed Bell. "Then we don’t have anything more to do than to make up a master program. One
for each unit?"
"2," said Rhodan.
Atlan and Arkonide had not changed his position. Chin cupped in hand, he stared reflectively into space.
"Don’t you agree, Admiral?" asked Perry Rhodan as he turned his seat around.
Atlan shook his head, which could mean ‘No’ just as much as it could mean the question had not been
properly stated. "The thing is risky," he murmured. "I wish I could prove it to you, Perry, but right now I
don’t know where the snag in this is." He looked up. "I mean, we needed a few more months yet. Are
you quite certain that it wasn’t your bitterness over Thora’s death that drove you into this plane?"
 Rhodan had a ready answer on his lips. Then he considered for a bit and replied only somewhat later.
"Not
quite
certain, Arkonide," he admitted, shaking his head. "Perhaps Thora’s death really is my
motivation for this. But so what? Haven’t we thought every little thing over 100 or 1000 times? Haven’t
we made our plans as carefully as possible? Haven’t the positronicons flawlessly calculated that under the
given circumstances the chances of our assault succeeding are more than 90%? Does it really matter
what the actual motivation was?"
Atlan shrugged. "I think it does matter. Plans someone devises while in a state of excitement generally
have an error somewhere. And naturally the existence of an error does not depend on whether you see it
or not."
"The positronicon would have discovered it," said Rhodan. He felt oddly disturbed that Atlan did not
fully concur with his plans. There had been almost no differences of opinion between them since they
began to work together. This was their first major disagreement. Rhodan briefly reviewed in his mind all
the reasons that had led him to the conclusion that now was a favourable moment for the attack on
Arkon. He could find no errors and since the positronicon had not found any either, he decided that
Atlan was simply a pessimist. The fact that Arkon was his home, even though under the regency of a
powerful robot, might have had something to do with it. When one’s homeland is involved, sentiment is
always a considerable factor, but the Terran Fleet naturally was not troubled by any such sentiment.
Perry Rhodan glanced at the chronometer.
It was now 1133 hours.
* * * *
The ships could not be seen on the panoramic vidscreens but on the luminous dark green surface of the
radarscope they showed up as radiant points in a fine-meshed, symmetrical net.
Gen. Deringhouse looked at the image reflectively, almost in awe. Thousands of ships had assembled
here, ready to teach the Robot Regent some respect for its Terran ‘ally’.
A gigantic fleet—by Earthly standards. The more Deringhouse looked at the image, the more he felt he
could sense physically the immensity of the power contained within the ships. He already knew how
much power was there, of course, and was well aware that if used irresponsibly, the total energy
commanded by the entire fleet would be enough to shatter and utterly destroy an entire solar system.
Well, at its heart, even the Arkonide realm was only a solar system. Ringed by a series of strong
fortresses, true, but still only a single system. The difficulty was, he thought, penetrating the system as
deeply and as quickly as possible. If they succeeded in that, then the Regent had lost the war before it
had even begun.
The strike will succeed, Deringhouse thought. We’ll be on top of Arkon while the Robot Brain is still
occupied by the Druuf problem. And thereafter the situation in the Galaxy will be different. We will be
able to move around freely and we won’t have to depend on elaborate ruses to keep the location of the
Earth and our important bases a secret.
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