Perhaps the Supreme Command of the Fleet would have more insight than the Admiral. Perhaps from Tanta III Bardon could get in touch with High Tam Councilor Merlan on Lemur so that he could put pressure on the Fleet command. Perhaps there was still a spark of hope that they could continue their mission.

  He clenched his teeth.

  He would struggle and neither relax nor rest until he could get a hearing with his superiors. The mission was too important to give up on it. But his battle against the slowly grinding wheels of bureaucracy would take time. Time that they might not have. And it was questionable whether he really would win in the end.

  Thore Bardon looked at the main vidscreen, at the stars that shone like cold eyes in the darkness, and for a moment he had the feeling that they were mocking him.

  6

  The plunge into the abyss of time ended with a sharp, piercing pain. Icho Tolot realized with a shock that he was no longer pure, disembodied consciousness in the temporal twilight zone, but once more a being of flesh and blood. He was vulnerable and mortal despite the Activator Chip that ensured him eternal life. He lay paralyzed on the ground, which felt cold and hard and strange after being dematerialized, and he was too weak to move. A groan escaped from his lips, loud and rumbling, and with an effort he forced his eyes open.

  Light blinded him.

  He squeezed his eyelids together so they narrowed to slits, protecting his eyes from the burning brightness, and waited until they had adapted to the intensity of the light around him. Gasping, he looked around, still half numbed by the shock of rematerialization.

  The light came from the energy field that billowed between the cone-shaped converters of the time machine. It vaguely reminded him of the transport beam of a teleporter. He watched as the field diminished in brightness and finally faded out. The muffled droning of the machinery also died away.

  Then there was silence, broken only by his labored breathing.

  He was relieved. He had feared that the Beasts would follow him through time, but the energy field, the gateway to the past, no longer existed. He was safe.

  For the moment.

  He found himself thinking of Denetree, the Lemurian descendant, and his encounter with her, which would take place in more than 50,000 years. He also thought of Perry Rhodan, Solina Tormas, and Hayden Norwell. They had remained behind on Gorbas III and were perhaps facing death.

  Such considerations are unimportant even if they do concern friends, his overbrain admonished him. They will not help you in any way in the current situation.

  The overbrain was right. He had to orientate himself and determine what era he was in now. He thought of his other, future self, who had already made the journey he was just beginning. He hoped his adventure really would have a happy ending and that he didn't cause a time paradox and erase himself out of existence.

  The numbness in his limbs faded, and with a groan he forced his massive body to stand up. His red battlesuit enveloped him like a second skin and gave him a deceptive feeling of security. Automatically, he reached for the beamer at his waist.

  The area surrounding the time machine was different from that of the year 1327 New Galactic Era, but that was not a surprise. He had traveled far back into the past. He would have to be cautious if he encountered any Lemurians. It was possible they would not be as peaceful and friendly as their fellows on board the star arks.

  He listened but didn't hear any voices, only the muffled drone of concealed machinery that made the floor vibrate. He wondered what the other, future Tolot had done when he had reached this point of his journey. Would he act and react the same way his future self had because the shape of time had already been determined? Or would there be deviations that would ultimately escalate into major changes that would affect events in the year 1327 NGE?

  That is irrelevant, his overbrain advised him coolly. Speculations are of no use to you. You must act as the situation requires.

  With heavy steps he stamped to the door that led out of the machinery hall. It opened automatically. Tolot suddenly stopped. Before him stretched a wide corridor. Round lighting plates had been set in its ceiling at regular intervals. Doors lined the hallway. Some distance away, just under the ceiling, was a grating covering a ventilation shaft. He heard the low murmuring of an air-circulation system.

  This corridor had not existed in the future. His surroundings were completely different from the mining area on Gorbas III. Could he therefore conclude that ... ?

  It does not necessarily have to mean anything, his overbrain broke in, interrupting his train of thought. As long as you do not know in which time period you find yourself, you should avoid premature conclusions.

  The Halutian suppressed a humorless laugh. Thank you for that shrewd insight, he thought back ironically.

  His overbrain did not answer. It did not care for irony. It functioned according to purely logical parameters and didn't waste any time with friendly conversation. Of course its objection was justified. He had to gather information first before he could analyze his situation.

  He cautiously stepped into the corridor. The muffled machine noise was louder here, the vibration in the floor stronger. He sensed it plainly through the soles of his battlesuit's boots. With his beamer drawn, he approached the first door. The characters of some written language were emblazoned on it. The Lemurian written language. He knew the language and translated the writing without any difficulty.

  Temporal Control Room.

  An electronic code lock secured the sliding door, but it stood slightly open, and a little push from his huge hand was enough to shove it sideways into its frame. Inside the room were control consoles, rows of video monitors, and devices that were strange to him. Boxes with more equipment were stacked along one of the walls. Some of the control consoles lacked covers. It looked as though someone had begun to dismantle the electronic gear and stow it in the crates, but had been interrupted in the middle of the work.

  Tolot proceeded cautiously further down the corridor. Laboratory facilities had been set up in the adjoining rooms, which presented a picture similar to that of the control room. Stacks of boxes, half-disconnected machines and other devices. Storage cabinets that stood open and had been emptied out. Scrapped equipment piled up in the corners ...

  Only the light and the low murmur from the ventilation shafts indicated that the station was still in operation.

  At the end of the corridor was a star-shaped intersection from which six other hallways led. He listened and thought he heard the sound of voices from the rightmost passage. Uncertain, he hesitated. A confrontation with the Lemurian occupants of this complex could be dangerous, since he did not know how they would react to his sudden appearance. But if he wanted to gather information, he didn't have any other choice.

  That is correct, his overbrain confirmed. And the sooner you find answers to your questions, the better.

  Tolot slid his beamer back into the holster at his waist. It was wiser not to confront the strangers with a drawn weapon. If they reacted with hostility, his battlesuit would protect him. Besides, he trusted his own unique metabolism, which was capable of hardening his bodily structure so his flesh was as strong as Terkonite and virtually invulnerable.

  He went onwards and heard the muttering grow louder. Individual words became understandable. The strangers were speaking Lemurian, but after seeing the writing on the laboratory doors he hadn't expected anything else. He hoped they would be as favorably disposed towards him as the Lemurians on the star arks.

  The corridor opened up into a large room. Tolot stopped. The hall was filled with Lemurians: men, women, and children in rumpled, dirty clothing. They didn't look like the technicians and scientists of a laboratory complex, but more like refugees who had a difficult ordeal behind them. They sat apathetically on the floor or lay on sleeping mats. They were crowded close to each other, ragged and exhausted-looking figures, many injured with bloody bandages. Some slept, others sat mutely with their heads hanging, while still others whispered lowly among themselves.

  They had not noticed him yet.

  Tolot opened his mouth to pronounce the customary Lemurian greeting, Halaton kher lemuu onsa, but before he could get that far, one of the men raised his head and looked in his direction. The man's face went rigid like a mask for a moment, as though frozen in shock, then it twisted into a grimace of terror. Fear blazed in his eyes. His lips trembled. Then he opened his mouth and screamed.

  It was a scream that sent a shudder through the giant's body. It expressed horror on the deepest, most subconscious level, blind panic, and deathly fear. The scream cut like a laser knife through the murmuring of the other Lemurians and brought them to sudden silence. Every head turned. And the horror showing on the man's face was now reflected in the faces of everyone else.

  A hundred mouths took up the first man's scream and it rose in a crescendo of terror. Those who had been asleep were jolted awake, and when they looked around, startled, they saw the Halutian and joined in the ghastly screaming in turn.

  Tolot raised his hand in a helpless gesture. "I come in peace," he said, but his words were lost in the panicked din.

  The Lemurians leaped up and fled towards the archway of the tunnel entrance on the other side of the hall. They pushed and shoved each other in their panic, making some people fall, and blindly trampled those on the floor. The entire time they screamed and shrieked as though they had gone insane.

  Tolot was shaken. He had not anticipated setting off such a panic. After all, the Lemurians on the star arks had accepted him with friendliness and complete trust.

  Only one conclusion can be drawn from this reaction, his overbrain informed him coolly. They have already encountered Halutians, and the meeting went badly.

  He knew what his overbrain was referring to. He remembered only too well his first journey through time, back in the year 2404 by the old Terran calendar. Then, he and the CREST III had ended up in the past some 50,000 years earlier, during the last days of the Lemurians when the war between them and the ancient Halutians, then called Beasts, had been raging.

  The Lemurians had then had the same reaction when they saw him.

  That could mean you find yourself in the same era, his overbrain told him emotionlessly. If that is the case, then you must avoid at all costs an encounter with your self of that time in order to avoid causing time paradoxes with potentially devastating consequences!

  Meanwhile, the hall had emptied out. A dozen people lay on the floor, trampled by the fleeing mob, moaning and whimpering. Tolot felt an urge to go to them and try to help, but that would only increase their panic and fear. Uncertain, he remained where he was and wondered how his other, future self had acted in this situation.

  Suddenly the howling of sirens ripped through the silence that had only been interrupted by the whimpering of the injured. Seconds later, figures appeared in the archway of the tunnel opening on the other side of the hall. They were Lemurians in gray battlesuits, armed with heavy thermobeam guns, and surrounded by reddishly shining force fields. When they saw the Halutian, they immediately raised their weapons and opened fire.

  Heat rays struck the wall next to Tolot and made the plastic covering melt. Smoking droplets sprayed on his red protective suit, pearled up when they touched the specially coated, highly resistant material, and fell to the floor like hot tears. Tolot didn't lose any time. He whirled around and fled back through the passageway to the intersection of corridors. He didn't want to fight against the Lemurians if it could be avoided. They apparently considered him a Beast and only did their duty. To kill them would have meant a massive intervention in the structure of time, with unforeseeable consequences.

  He stormed into one of the side corridors and heard the heavy steps of the pursuers behind him as the howling of the sirens continued. Thermobeams sizzled above him and ionized the air. He increased his speed and ran past the rows of doors. Reaching another intersection, he paused for a moment to get his bearings, then turned into another tunnel. Fifty meters further along, it ended in a massive bulkhead.

  Tolot accelerated his pace even more and at the same time changed the molecular basis of his cell structure until his body had the solidity of a block of steel. As he struck the bulkhead, it resounded like a bell, bent inwards, and was torn screeching from its anchoring. It flew through the air and struck a block of machinery the size of a single-family house with a crash.

  Skidding to a halt, he looked around the expansive machinery hall on the other side of the bulkhead opening. Attracted by the noise, a Lemurian in blue overalls came around one of the machines and abruptly stopped and stood as though rooted to the spot when he saw the Halutian. Naked fear showed in his face. He gasped, raised his hands in a helpless, defensive gesture, and stepped back, stumbling.

  Tolot ignored him. He saw the first armed Lemurians appearing at the mouth of the corridor, and he ran onwards, past the humming, complex machinery, into the depths of the machine room. Other men and women in blue overalls appeared between the rows of generators and froze as soon as they saw him. Their screams were lost in the howling of the sirens.

  A thermobeam shot through the air, missing him by a hair, and burned a blackened hole in one of the colossal machines. He turned left, raced past transformer blocks, leaped over an energy storage bank, and reached another bulkhead. With one blow of his powerful right fist he smashed it out of its anchoring and burst into another machinery hall with generators, walls filled with monitor screens, and control consoles over which blue-clad technicians were bent.

  When they raised their heads and saw him, they turned pale. "A Beast!" one of them exclaimed in a choked voice in Lemurian. "It's a Beast!"

  Tolot ran past them. The technician's terrified cry had confirmed his estimation that he had landed in the era of the Lemurian-Halutian war. But how could he get on board the star arks? The arks had started out on their dilation flight long before the outbreak of the war ...

  That is unimportant! his overbrain admonished him. Now it is a matter of survival. Everything else will work itself out when you escape your pursuers.

  A thermobeam burned a blistering furrow in the floor next to him and emphasized the overbrain's thought. He ran onwards through the labyrinth of machines and generators and reached the hall's rear wall. No exit was in sight anywhere. With a rumbling curse he hardened his bodily structure again and threw himself against the wall. It blew apart from the force of his impact and opened the way to a wide corridor.

  Screams met him as he broke through the opening. Two Lemurian women who had just stepped through a door stumbled backwards in panic and their shrieks were cut off as the door slid shut.

  Tolot hurried on but his pursuers were still after him. Surrounded by a storm of thermobeams, he turned into a side passage and reached a bulkhead after another twenty meters. He tore it out of its setting with the force of his hardened body and found himself in a stairwell. Wide metal steps led upwards in a spiral and lost themselves in the reddish twilight of the emergency lighting.

  The howling of the alarm sirens went on.

  A thermobeam shot through the opening in the bulkhead and turned the lowest step red hot. Tolot lost no time and stormed up the staircase, higher and higher, while the pounding steps of his pursuers resounded from below. For a moment he was amazed by their persistence and their courage. They had to know that they didn't have any chance against him if he decided to fight them, but they didn't give up.

  No superfluous ponderings, his overbrain warned him. You must concentrate on escape and finding a way out of this laboratory complex.

  Tolot went past landing after landing, bulkhead after bulkhead, but he didn't stop until he reached the top of the shaft. The pounding steps below him were no longer as loud as they had been, suggesting his pursuers had fallen behind. For them, the long climb must have been difficult and exhausting, but he felt just as fit and fresh as he had at the start of his flight. If he had to, he could go on like this for hours.

  There was Lemurian lettering on the hatch in front of him.

  Entrance Level.

  Tolot rumbled in satisfaction. He had instinctively gone the right way. He ignored the hatch's electronic code lock, lifted his right fist, and slammed it into the steel door. A deep dent appeared, and two more blows tore it completely out of its frame. Before him lay a wide tunnel filled with men, women, and children, ragged and dirty, and some injured like the refugees below in the laboratory complex.

  They screamed and shrieked when they saw him, squeezed in fear against the walls or ran away in blind panic. Again the reaction pained and shocked him.

  "Have no fear," he called to them. "I am not like the Beasts. I come in peace."

  But his words echoed unheard. The terrible trauma these people had suffered was stronger than their reason. He could not blame them. He had experienced himself the brutal and merciless havoc the original Halutians had wrought among the Lemurians in order to destroy the Great Tamanium on behalf of the First Vibratory Power ...

  This is not the right time for historical observations, his overbrain admonished him coldly. You are still in danger.

  Tolot ran onwards, past the screaming and wailing refugees, who were frozen in fear at the sight of the apparent Beast. He stormed through the wide tunnel, rounded a corner with a skid, and reached a large hall, its walls covered in plasteel. On the other side of it gaped a large, open doorway. Armed Lemurians were posted on either side of the door, through which more refugees streamed into the hall.

  The guards fired as soon as they saw the Halutian while the refugees scattered screaming and fled into other tunnels that led off from the large hall.

  Tolot activated his red battlesuit's energy shield as the super-hot flashes of thermobeams crackled around him. He then ducked and ran onwards towards the door, through the panicking, shrieking sea of refugees driven half-mad by terror. His protective shield flickered slightly as the heat rays struck it, but held up.

  Then he reached the door, leaped in a long bound over a group of refugees frozen with fear, and landed outside on bare rocky ground. The rock splintered under his impact. He paused to orient himself while more thermobeams struck his shield and the flickering of the energy field increased.

 

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