Perry Rhodan NEO: Volume 18 [Parts 1 to 4] by Christian Humberg Frank Borsch

Author:Christian Humberg, Frank Borsch
Language: eng
Format: epub

6.

Between Courage and Madness

A few minutes earlier

“No way!” echoed Hisab-Benkh’s voice off the headquarters’ walls. “Did you hear me? It‘s madness!”

Tresk-Takuhn only flicked his tongue briefly. The accusatory words seemed to bounce off him. The look with which he scanned Hisab-Benkh remained full of determination. “Where is your foresight, old companion? I hardly know you, as hot-tempered as you are.”

The archaeologist took a deep breath. Tresk-Takuhn was right—his reaction was extremely uncharacteristic. But what the commander had just proposed was not a plan, it was a nicely packaged mass suicide. He couldn’t help his response.

“Pardon my outburst,” Hisab-Benkh said, much more composed. “But that has nothing to do with foresight for me. You don’t really want to...”

Silence had fallen all around, which was only partly due to Hisab-Benkh’s protest. Tresk-Takuhn’s order alone had sufficed to make the Topsidian officers pause in their work. Hisab-Benkh looked around and found his own bewilderment reflected in the faces of the others.

“Um,” Reban-Terkh said, flickering his tongue frantically. “Please repeat that, Commander. Did you really say ‘complete shutdown’?”

Tresk-Takuhn’s mouth twitched. The light of numerous holograms and the faint glow of the controls were reflected on his face, tail, and clawed hands—wherever the scales protruded from his army uniform. He looked at the central image. It showed a section of the surface of Rayold I: in one corner lay the fortress, in the opposite corner parts of the wreck of the Keat’ark glowed.

Tresk-Takuhn pointed to the wrecked Arkonide ship. “I wonder what they would say back home on Topsid,” he muttered.

Reban-Terkh blinked in confusion. That was clearly not an answer to his question. “What do you mean, Commander?”

“About the health of my crew,” said the commander, turning to his technician. “After all, there must be a connection: the Naats land on my piece of space rock, and at the same time my crew loses their good hearing.”

Hisab-Benkh sighed. So Tresk-Takuhn was serious.

Reban-Terkh gave the archaeologist a helpless look.

“He said complete shutdown,” Hisab-Benkh said, translating his commander’s unconstructive irony into a language the adjutant could understand. Then he sighed again and looked at Tresk-Takuhn. “Which doesn’t mean he hasn’t lost his sanity.”

Tresk-Takuhn gave his old friend a half-amused, half-reproachful look. Then he became matter-of-fact again.

“Positronics won’t allow us to open a window in the force field,” he said, explaining his plan. “Reban-Terkh said so himself. And yet, I am convinced, this is the only viable way forward in our situation. With the firepower of the Topsidian ships here in the Tatlira system, we could attack the Naats from above as they are attacking us on our own land and surrounding our fortress. Our ground troops would receive support from orbit. The Naats may hide from our soldiers in crater hollows and crevices, but they are not immune to a well-aimed volley, for example from the Kyram-Rakal. This is our chance, Hisab-Benkh. Let’s take advantage of it.”

His words did little to dispel the almost palpable skepticism that reigned in the room. Everyone saw the current status of the space battle on the holograms.

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