“In 1 hour, sir.”
* * * *
The sun Morag had only moved a short distance and now stood high in the sky. The desert of Tats-Tor lay deserted and dead under its scorching rays, giving mute testimony to the lifelessness of a world swept by the curtain of alien time.
Rhodan adjusted the impulse beamer in his belt and took a last look at his companions before starting the dangerous journey. Beside him Pucky seemed to tremble with impatience but Rhodan sensed his small friend’s inner apprehension before the unknown. However brave and spirited the little mouse-beaver might be, the alien time dimension was something he couldn’t quite grasp in its concept—and so he was instinctively afraid of it.
“We will stay together,” said Rhodan while placing his right hand on Pucky’s shoulder. “As soon as we have climbed through the forcefield window I want you to put out your telepathic tendrils so that we can trace Lt. Rous as quickly as possible. John Marshall will handle the radio. I’ll keep a lookout for any possible surprises from the unknown enemy but we already know that events occurring behind that time curtain take about 72,000 times longer to happen. So in that sense we really won’t have to fear any enemy action.” He gave a sign to the technicians. “We are ready, gentlemen.”
Bell stood to one side and strove to maintain an air of indifference. Within him raged a veritable storm of feelings, however. Naturally he was glad he didn’t have to go along on the expedition. He had no fear of flesh and blood enemies but to penetrate into an alien, unknown environment was a hazardous venture which required more than raw courage alone.
Nevertheless he would have liked to go along. The call of adventure was always irresistible.
Then on the other hand…
He did not finish his counter-argument because the telepathic mouse-beaver suddenly turned to him. “You don’t know what you want, do you, Fatso?” Of course Bell wasn’t fat in the least, being at the most what might be referred to as thickset, but Pucky loved a bit of exaggeration when it came to ribbing his bosom pal. “First you’re glad that somebody else is going to pull the castanets out of that other time plane and then you’re stewing over not being along when we singe our paws. If you’re a good boy, I’ll bring you back a clock from the other side. Since it is 72,000 times slower than yours, you can gauge yourself to it when you’re off duty.”
Before Bell could find the appropriate words for a retort the head engineer turned on the power switch. With a muffled hum the magnetic fields built up which were to warp an opening in the time barrier. This opening, or window, would reveal itself in the form of a faintly shimmering ring of light.
But then the expected effect failed to materialize. In spite of the fact that the solidly anchored apparatus vibrated energetically and the fields increased their humming sound, the light-ring refused to appear.
The engineer shook his head in bewilderment as he watched the wavering needles on his meter panel. Rhodan stepped closer to him and shouted above the noise of the field generator. “What’s happening? Is the field building up or not…?”
“It’s building,” confirmed the engineer in puzzlement without taking his eyes from the meters. “I can’t see anything wrong. Everything is operating exactly as it was designed to do and actually the light-ring should be visible by now. I don’t understand…”
In fact, nobody understood it for a good 6 months after that. At first the disappointment was almost a crushing blow. They kept looking for an error in the ring-field generator itself until somebody in the research centre in Terrania was sharp enough to think of looking elsewhere for the missing factor.
Namely, in the governing circumstances on Tats-Tor!
It had been a hard blow for Rhodan in the meantime to have to assume with an overwhelming certainty that Lt. Rous’ time-expedition was lost for good.
But 3 months following the foregoing events chief physicist Erb of the electronics department stepped into his office far above the streets of Terrania.
Rhodan had just concluded a conversation with the Administrator of Venus and cut off the connection. The viewscreen faded out. Not particularly interested in this visit, he offered the physicist a chair across from him. He was expecting this to be another routine report.
“What can I do for you?” he said by way of opening the conversation but actually his thoughts were elsewhere. The settlers on Venus were asking for more administrative freedom and he didn’t see why it should be denied them. In addition, there was the fact that…
“I believe,” said Erb, “that I finally know why the energy-ring generator didn’t function that time on Tats-Tor.”
With an involuntary start, Rhodan forgot Venus and leaned forward, focussing his attention on the physicist. “Tats-Tor! The lost expedition…! I’ve given up all hope of ever being able to help Rous. Erb, don’t stir up false hopes in me.” He waved a hand as though to brush his own remark away. “That’s nonsense, of course. Don’t mind me, Erb. It’s better that I listen to you, instead. Tell me what you’ve found out. The smallest detail is important if it can be of help to our people.”
The physicist, an exceptionally congenial man with premature grey hair, smiled in some embarrassment. There was a look of something like helplessness in his eyes but Rhodan knew his people. It was an impression that could be deceptive. Erb was one of the most capable professionals in the field of electronic engineering and electro-physics. “Actually it wasn’t I who found the answer, it was Gustav 6.”
“Gustav 6?”
“Yes, that’s what we call the positronic brain in our department. Naturally it doesn’t have the capacity of the big computers on the ships or the one on Venus but it has given us very good service. So I submitted all of our information to Gustav 6 that I could dig up concerning the problem of the other time-plane, much of which I’ll confess has been only blind guesswork. After putting a series of inquiries to him, the answers emerged and crystallized. Our spot-checks and samplings of the data proved their validity. There doesn’t seem to be any possibility of error, sir.”
For Rhodan, all other problems of the Solar Empire were forgotten. After 3 months of relative peace and quiet the spectre loomed before him again—the dread apparition of the other time-plane, sweeping slowly through the normal universe and bringing disaster and destruction wherever the interface of dimensions occurred.
“Continue, Erb. What answers did you find?”
The physicist’s smile faded, to be replaced by an unusually stern expression. His eyes met Rhodan’s in unabashed concentration. “At first I wanted to know whether or not the energy-ring generator we had constructed was in perfect working order, since it had let us down so miserably on Tats-Tor. The computer confirmed absolutely that we had not made any errors and that the machine was flawlessly put together. According to that, it also had to operate without a flaw. But it still didn’t function! Therefore, the mistake had to lie somewhere else than in the machine itself.”
Rhodan only nodded, refraining from an interruption even when the physicist made a slight pause. After a few moments, Erb continued: “So naturally I did look elsewhere, admittedly with Gustav’s help. The results still gave us a probability factor of 97% that an error didn’t even exist.”
“None at all?” muttered Rhodan in some amazement. “Just what do you mean?”
“Well of course a kind of error was involved but only of a very theoretical nature, sir. It was a mistake on our part to assume that the relationships before an overlapping of time dimensions were the same as after such an occurrence.”
Rhodan gazed steadily at Erb. There was a slight quiver at the corners of his eyes. “Go over that again, will you, please?”
Erb obliged him and then waited expectantly. Had Rhodan already arrived at the same conclusion during recent days? It was only logical in view of their mutual train of thoughts.
Rhodan spoke slowly and carefully. “So you would say that we have to build a ring-field generator that would fit the altered relationships? In other words, a generator that would even be effective long after a time-front has swept over any given world…”
Erb nodded in agreement. “Yes, that is the problem! And Gustav 6 has specifically calculated that a transfer into the other time-plane is only possible when a dimensional interface has already occurred. That is, either during or after an overlap. However, if a considerable time has passed following an overlap, a penetration into the other time will not be possible with our present generator. Further: prior to a time-plane interface, it’s totally impossible to enter the other continuum.”