The Mystery of the Anti - K. H. Scheer, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 2
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Perry Rhodan 096 Mystery Of The Anti #88 by K. H. Scheer PROLOG PERRY
RHODAN'S DISCOVERY Of the Moon-stranded Arkonide exploration ship became the
cornerstone for the political unity of Mankind as well as a "launch-pad" for
the growth of the Solar Empire. But not even Rhodan himself could perceive the
magnitude of effort & nerve stamina that would be required over the ensuing
course of years in order to preserve this empire against attacks from the
outside as well as from within. Perry Rhodan has recognized one fact for
certain: the safety & further development of humanity could not be assured
until peace was established in the entire galaxy! Even the undying Atlan
seeks such a peace, having recently taken the place of the robot Regent, that
mighty positronic brain that had previously employed the merciless forces of
its robot fleets to smash every revolution against the central Arkonide
power. Atlan, who is now Imperator Gonozal VIII, and Perry Rhodan,
Administrator of the Solar Empire, have made a mutual assistance pact which,
as a matter of practicality, is based on the instinct of self-preservation.
This pact between Arkon & Terra has already resulted in several supporting
actions on both sides. Now after Perry Rhodan has returned to Earth from his
second "Flight to Eternity", he takes Atlan's precarious political situation
into account by sending off his Mutant Corps Chief John Marshall to Arkon as a
liaison officer to the Imperator himself. However, when Rhodan issued this
order he was unprepared for THE MYSTERY OF THE ANTI... 1/ THE HALLS OF
ENVY "His all-seeing Omniscient Eminence, Lord of Arkon and the worlds of the
galaxy, his Imperial Magnificence, Gonozal the Eighth, godhead of our most
ancient dynastic royalty, hereby declares the Supreme Council of Arkon to be
in session!" This solemn announcement was partially drowned in the low
thunder of marching metallic feet as my special combat robots advanced with
fire-ready weapons. The Chief of Protocol had exerted every effort to open the
ceremonies according to the ancient ritual. The scientists of the Supreme
Council had risen from their seats. Tradition dictated that each ruler of the
stellar empire should be accompanied by a bodyguard, for more than one
Imperator had fallen prey to insidious intrigues of the Court. However, in
direct violation of protocol I had formed my guard unit of modern special
robots. I was not ready to expose myself to the raybeam fire of some Naat
guard who might have been bribed or otherwise influenced. I knew they hated
me. They hated me with all the intensity of which they were capable. I was an
outsider, a leftover from a past era who had suddenly appeared among them and
who towered above the present descendants of the formerly dynamic race of
Arkonides by virtue of the superior mental and physical fitness that had
characterized their ancestors. They knew that with the help of a Terranian
commando force I had succeeded in overthrowing the once omnipotent-seeming
robot Brain and that I had finally taken over the ruling power of the Greater
Imperium. Perhaps they might have forgiven me for a prodigal return that was
about 10,000 years too late, or in spite of my claim to power they would
probably not have been either malevolent or envious-if I had permitted myself
to be pressed into the general mould of their present decadence. Since I had
no intention of allowing the empire to continue its current degenerate course,
ruptured as it was by widespread revolutionary upheavals and countless
colonial wars, I had made high direct demands on these weak-willed and morally
psychically decadent dreamers who had felt more comfortable under the sham
rulership of psychopaths and neurotics for the past 7 decades. The actual
power of the Empire had been wielded for them by a giant positronic robot
which had been programmed against the inevitable by the clear-sighted
scientists of my venerable race. The present populace had already grown
accustomed to the merciless dictatorship of a machine in the tri-planet core
of Arkon-and then I had arrived. I came to a halt at the edge of the curved
amphitheatre. Before me was the gigantic hall where in earlier times the
Supreme Council of Arkon had founded the Empire, decided on its expansion and
developed us into the mightiest and most affluent civilization of the galaxy.
Now the variously coloured pneumatic seats of these pioneers had been taken
 over by their descendants; but what had become of the representatives of my
people? Certainly these faces before me did not appear to be stupid, yet I
thought I perceived in their eyes a kind of yawning emptiness and general lack
of interest. I realized that their attitude was one of indignant questioning
as to why they had been disturbed from their normal repose. After all, there
was still a robot Regent whose programming had so far not proved to be of any
personal detriment to the representatives of the realm. The men in these
comfortable seats had become so indolent that I could not hope for their
collaboration. Probably they would no longer be of any help at all. Various
scientific experts from Terrania had made it quite clear to me that the
members of the Supreme Council were undergoing a process of degeneration-and
not alone the men of the Council! Everywhere on Arkon 1, the renowned Crystal
World of the Arkonides, this mental and spiritual dissolution was evident.
They took pleasure in senseless amusements, simultan games and unrealistic
philosophies which were unparalleled in the 20,000-year history of the stellar
empire. They kept themselves thus occupied in order to avoid the much-needed
labour of leadership. The representatives of my people had come to the end of
their road. They had lost everything that had been considered of value by the
Arkonide statesmen, scientists and fleet officers of my era. Once more the
Chief of Protocol was expounding his ceremonious phrases in which I was
extolled as a so-called 'million-eyed divinity and all-seeing
eminence'. These words which at one time had been significant and perhaps
deserved were only repelling to me. And in the present surroundings they were
senseless. The 20 combat robots took up positions on either side of the
imperial couch or throne that floated before me on an antigrav screen. Their
energy screens which protected me were silent proof that I meant business. A
much more impressive demonstration of my intentions was evident in the
elongated remote control apparatus that I carried prominently on my left
forearm. Responsive only to my bodily frequency, the pulse transceiver enabled
me at any time to contact the robot brain on Arkon 3. They knew very well what
power was connected to this. No one other than myself was able to give
commands to the Regent. It was our 4th session in the Hall of Ancestors.
During the three previous conferences I had presented explanations and proofs
to the effect that I, as Admiral Atlan of the ruling dynasty of Gonozal, had
been detained on an alien world due to, adverse circumstances. I had further
described how I had managed to escape the catastrophe of Atlantis and how I
had been able to return home some 10,000 years after my departure from the
Arkon System. Perry Rhodan and Terranian liaison officers had personally
confirmed my credentials. However this would have been of little use to me if
the robot Brain had not fully supported my arguments and made them
irrefutable. The Regent had ascertained that I was Atlan of the ruling house
of Gonozal and that therefore I had every claim to the title of Imperator. I
had moved into the Crystal Palace of Arkon 1 only four days before. Refusing
to submit to the week-long coronation ceremonies I had immediately sought to
locate the widely dispersed members of the Supreme Council. During the ensuing
days they had been in session with me, the old and the young, aristocrats and
noblemen, all of them thinking and acting in the same pattern. Shortly prior
to this the transport ships had arrived which I had dispatched into a distant
solar system. Rhodan's enormously capable men had succeeded in tracing down
one of the forgotten emigrant ships of my people and they had managed to
rescue these so-called 'sleepers'. They numbered about 100,000 Arkonides who
had started out thousands of years ago but had fallen into a biological
deepsleep or state of aestivation owing to an accident and certain unusual
circumstances. Although they had departed long ago in my own time, these
people were still unimpaired and in possession of their full faculties of mind
and reason. But I was not yet able to demand the help of the returned
emigrants because of their state of exhaustion and their need for rest and
recuperation. Nevertheless, in them a ray of hope had appeared. With 100,000
unimpaired Arkonides I hoped to rebuild the Empire. And if I took pains to
rescue the still unborn generations from the general delirium of decadence
 through proper educational measures, then it should be possible to renew the
Imperium within a shorter number of decades. However, these were future
dreams which could not be realized very well without the assistance of the
Terranians. I slowly sat down on the wide throne couch and was borne upward
with it on the antigrav field. It stopped at a height of 3 meters above the
floor of the amphitheatre, which gave me a splendid view of everything. The
members of the Council had seated themselves again. What I did not permit
myself to do they took for granted. They stretched out comfortably, crossed
their legs and waited lethargically for what was to come. In some dismay I
looked across at the liaison officer whom Rhodan had just recently assigned to
Arkon. This was the slender and likable Chief of the Terranian Mutant Corps,
John Marshall, whose superior telepathic faculties were at my disposal. He
noticed my imploring look. I opened my parapsychic mono-screen so that I could
receive Marshall's telepathic signals. A slightly painful pressure in the back
of my head made me aware of my extra-brain which had become activated
thousands of years ago. "That's fine, sir." I had just received Marshall's
conscious thought. It was as though he had actually spoken, and once again I
regretted that I had not also been endowed with such a natural gift. I could
only understand John when he concentrated on me directly. On the other hand it
was not possible for me to call him mentally unless he willed it. Only when he
concentrated on me as he was doing now was I able to establish a telepathic
communication. "What are they thinking?" I asked. "Not much of anything,
sir. The usual, I should say." "Probably why I'm still
alive-right?" "Exactly. It's inconceivable to them that you, sir, could have
left the Arkon System 10,000 years ago and now return, home without any
noticeable signs of aging. Some of the scientists have gone to the trouble of
doing some research in the government library. They have discovered the record
of your ancestral lineage, sir. From that they know that you are actually
Atlan." I suppressed a grim chuckle. No one knew anything about my cell
activator. Even if I had revealed my secret the function of the small device
would have been unimaginable to these people. I myself only knew that my
natural cellular decay and the consequent signs of aging were suspended
continuously by mysterious stimuli. So it had been for many millenniums.
Without being obvious I touched the upper part of my simple uniform jacket and
felt the contours of the activator underneath. On a biophysical basis it had
endowed me with an eternal life-a life which day by day and year after year
had been filled with a burning homesickness for Arkon. Now I was back home
but I had encountered conditions that had both filled me with shame and shaken
me to the point of action. Something had to be done to salvage Arkon's
greatness. The mighty robot fleet was not enough to do it with. I opened the
Council meeting. It didn't take them 10 minutes before they mustered enough
courage to start making protests, which I parried at first patiently but
finally rejected openly, having to resort to very obvious threats. After an
hour I gave it up. It was completely futile to try forcing these men into
useful channels. Marshall informed me that the overall aspiration of those
present was focussed exclusively on one subject: how to get rid of me, the
undesirable meddler and mischief-maker. They were angry and indignant and were
all pondering over what means might be used to rid themselves of the rulership
of an Imperator who had suddenly appeared in their midst. There were no
straightforward and sensible suggestions for strengthening the stellar empire.
The few proposals that were presented were a clear indication that they didn't
have any conception of the overall picture. The situation along the Druuf
battlefront was an unknown subject to the members of the Council. As for the
Terranian liaison officer, they almost disregarded him entirely. Marshall was
somewhat amused to inform me that they considered him to be the representative
of some insignificant, colonial people, although he stood among them as a
highly capable telepath. I lowered the regal couch to the floor and ended the
meeting. Ignoring the fawning words and gestures of nearby courtiers, I walked
away in the midst of my robot escort. Even though the Crystal Palace of Arkon
languished in decadence, the court society did not neglect its banquets and
 celebrations. In such matters they were highly skilled, since it was the chief
means of surrounding an Imperator with flattery and obtaining special
privileges. I was detained by all sorts of spongers and parasites who praised
me with flowery phrases and showered me with such ridiculously convoluted
titles that I almost became ill. One of these persons who had been introduced
to me as the greatest living philosopher and simultan-game composer was
troubled over the fact that the robot Regent had cut off his honorary monthly
stipend. Since I was familiar with the gentleman's line of chatter, I bluntly
rejected his petition and ordered him to apply his abilities to more useful
purposes. I began to go against their grain, apparently offending everyone
and never making a friend. They would retreat from me with polite and courtly
words yet in their eyes I saw the sparks of hatred. I had countermanded the
plans for the coronation celebration and it had caused a wave of
indignation. The Chief of Protocol whispered to me imploringly: "If I may
take the liberty of reminding Your Eminence that the leading artists of the
Empire have already accepted invitations... Your Excellence will surely be
gracious enough to consider how important..." I turned on my heel to him with
such abruptness that he drew back in fright. We had arrived in the foyer of
the Hall of Wisdom. "In my opinion these extravagant and carousing festivities
are intolerable in the present situation," I countered with unconcealed
annoyance. "I request you urgently to invite the responsible officers of the
Fleet to the palace. I shall accept no excuses. If any of them fail to appear
at the appointed time, I'll relieve them of their command." My robot guards
pressed the courtiers back. John Marshall followed close behind me. His face
remained unmoved and expressionless but as a telepath he was undoubtedly more
aware than I of the hatred that my arrival had aroused. My dreams of a
homecoming were being scattered more and more by such winds of contention.
Naturally I was not against the idea of celebrations per se; I would have
gladly sponsored the greatest festival of the millennium. The Imperium was
rich. During the regency of the robot Brain, commerce had flourished again
with the countless colonial worlds, even though the former private enterprise
of the merchants had become more stereotyped than ever. But now the state of
affairs had changed. I could not take it upon myself to assume my high station
with all the pomp and ceremony that everyone had expected. I was disappointed
and embittered. In front of the private elevator to the upper palace chambers
there was a guard detail made up of triple-eyed creatures from the planet
Naat. I instructed the giant Triclopeans to keep me from being disturbed. 20
minutes later I reached the royal apartments which had been occupied by the
Imperators before me. Here I had refrained from using the larger and more
ostentatious chambers. Having become frugal and unpretentious over the course
of many thousands of years, I had furnished a small apartment which gave me a
view of the inner palace court. I felt the most at home in the large
combination office and operations room where the switching consoles put me in
direct contact with the Brain and thus connected me with the true
administrative centres of the Imperium. I removed the magnificent shoulder
cape bearing the imperial insignia and handed it to a waiting robot valet, who
soundlessly vanished into an opening in the floor which quietly closed behind
it. Beneath my workroom was the control central of the imperial private guard.
It was a practical impossibility for anyone to penetrate my selected portion
of the Crystal Palace against my win. John Marshall had entered here with me.
He merely stood by until I should have occasion to speak to him. I walked over
to the transparent defence screen that had replaced the gallery of windows
facing the inner court. The circular courtyard, measuring 1,500 meters across,
lay 800 meters below me. In keeping with our architectural tradition, the
Crystal Palace was also in the form of a large cone. Resting on its trunk-like
foundation, it towered upward and extended far out over the magnificent
park-like landscape. The circular area enclosed by the inner walls of the
funnel-like structure was formed into descending terraces which finally
terminated far below in the gardens. I enjoyed the splendid view that my
apartment afforded me. The base of the building was 500 meters in diameter.
 Within its foundations were all the machines and control stations which had
made the Crystal Palace a phenomenon of the galaxy. The former Imperators had
claimed it for their royal dwelling. It contained an incredible number of
rooms where at one time all the leading intelligences of the known galaxy had
been housed during a great reception. Marshall had stepped to my side. He
seemed to guess my mood although he was not able to perceive my actual
thoughts because my mono-screen was up again. "I keep asking myself if I'm
still a true Arkonide," I said abruptly. "John, other rulers before me would
not have bypassed a coronation ceremony under any circumstances." As he only
nodded I strove to compose myself. "I don't know, John, if Perry Rhodan did me
any favour by pushing my proclamation as Imperator. In my opinion it would
have been better to continue working in secret." "The circumstances were
against it, sir." Although I had long dreamed of being addressed by the
highest title of the empire, his simpler usage was welcome to me now. The
others referred to me as 'Your Eminence' but it failed to impart any sense of
pride. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" inquired
Marshall. "No, thanks very much. I must try to carry on by myself. You look
tired, John." He only smiled, and then I suddenly wished that I could once
more be living and working with men like him. I looked down at the other
terraces whose windows brightly reflected the white light of the Arkon sun. In
spite of all this splendour it seemed to me that I was displaced. Even the
very thought of it was an irony of fate. During my long years of wandering and
witnessing the various cultural epochs of the planet Earth, I had always
attempted to advance the humans in their technologies and sciences, Long after
the sinking of Atlantis when they finally discovered space flight, Rhodan had
brought me back to Arkon. My time had come. The secret security circuits of
the robot Brain had responded to my brainwave pattern. Apparently I was the
only living Arkonide in the stellar empire to whom the giant machine could
actually pass the sceptre of power. The Imperators prior to my advent had only
been marionettes under the forced dictatorship of the Regent. Marshall knew
what was on my mind. In his modest way he held back until he saw it necessary
to tear me away from my self-torturing contemplation. "Sir, you should try to
get a few hours of rest. I wouldn't be happy to see you get sick. The past few
months have been very strenuous." I pulled myself together. It was senseless
to cling so much to the past. Ahead of me lay a great task which I could only
accomplish while in full possession of my mental and physical strengths. I
looked at my watch. It was slightly before sundown. The crystalline
composition of the palace walls flashed to life. Blinding splinters of light
seemed to cascade downward over the wide inner court, splashing from the
monumental works of art and across the cultured gardens like a fountain of
glory. From somewhere came the shrill lament of an animal that was not of
Arkon. The wide-sweeping antigrav highways began to gleam with an inner
light. Arkon 1 was beautiful. It was my home world. A new calmness settled
upon me. I relished the spectacle of the sunset until the last streak of light
disappeared behind the horizon. Everywhere the lights came on. The numerous
buildings adjoining the Crystal Palace appeared to develop a phantom life of
their own. Here were the many ministries of the Empire, gigantic building
complexes in which nobody had done any serious work in many a decade. Their
infallible robot Regent had always been so convenient. I shuddered to think of
having to entrust the fighting Fleet's supply of reinforcements to the
exhausted officials and staff officers. Now as before, these things were taken
care of by the Brain. And I was thankful for it. I would never have been able
to handle the millions of logistical problems that came up continually.
Without this newly docile super robot I would have been justified in giving up
my position as Imperator. I stepped over to the horseshoe curve of the large
operations table and turned on the energy barrier that protected my personal
portion of the palace. Now no one could come through the broad corridors that
approached my location. Marshall looked at me with a puzzled frown but he
became still more uneasy when I checked my energy weapon. "Best to be on the
safe side," I told him. "John, go get some sleep. If you want to do something
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