“It won’t hurt it if it shrank a little,” Tako tried to console him. “It will be easier for you than for us to be an a diet since you are a vegetarian.”
“This isn’t a diet, it’s starvation,” Pucky replied indignantly. “First we get saturated with fat by breathing the air, then we must suffer the opposite. I’d like to know when we’ll get to Arkon.”
2 days had passed from the moment the harvestship had departed and leaped forward by transitions in regular intervals. Only in the pauses between the leaps was Pucky able to make contact with Betty, who informed him of the progress he made on his flight to Arkon.
Everything had worked out according to the plans of Rhodan and Pucky. The 3d command impulse had reached the propulsion control and the ship began to move again. The order to proceed to Arkon for the harvest had been accepted and complied with. In the meantime the Gazelle had taken the defective impulse transmitter back to Earth. Colonel Claudrin had received orders to fly to Mechanica and stand by for further instructions. The entire operation proceeded without a hitch.
Pucky stretched himself. “A reducing cure not only calls for depriving the body of its well-deserved food but also for a maximum of exercise. In other words, I’m fed up with sitting around. I think I’ll snoop around a little.”
Ras advised caution. “What if the robot doesn’t like it? Are you going to ask it?”
“Thru that cosmic picture box? Why?” Pucky got up. “It’ll be around if it doesn’t like it. Perhaps I can find something to eat.”
“Sure, some lube oil,” Tako observed skeptically. Pucky teleported and disappeared. He materialized in the corridor and began his inspection. All bulkhead doors were open again so that the mousebeaver could enter all compartments without difficulty.
The nose section of the huge vessel was basically one big robot whose central nerve system was Rabotax, who controlled each function and initiated the orders for their execution. The day before, Pucky had engaged in a long conversation with Rabotax – using the pictorial translator, of course – and got to know the robot, if such a phrase could be applied to an automaton. The mousebeaver had felt an odd sympathy for the mechanical and lifeless structure that was capable of thinking and taking action. It had a superior memory but lacked the cerebral cogency to differentiate adequately and recognize the deceit with which it had been tricked.
Pucky came to a broad hall with a low ceiling. In its center was a round closed lid which aroused his curiosity. It looked like a hatch leading to a lower room. He was tempted to open it. His physical strength was too limited but he succeeded in sliding it to the side by using his telekinetic power.
A sweetish odor emanated from the round opening and enveloped Pucky as he peered down where a gray mash was slowly stirred by metallic blades. Bright lamps on all sides raised the temperature of the silo. The smell was so satiating that Pucky instantly lost his appetite and gave his undivided attention to his new discovery. He surmised that this was the place where the spores of the fatmoss were mixed in a semi-liquid food which then could be sprayed like an aerosol and inhaled as the extinct lizards were accustomed.
The heat in the silo indicated that the spores could be kept alive only in an environment above a certain degree of temperature. Pucky realized how valuable this ship could be for humanity. If the supply of a full ship could feed the entire race of lizards for months or years, not many barrels would be required for the average crew of a Terrestrial spaceship. The future of intergalactic flight had been hampered by many hitherto unsolved problems, of which the question of food was only one. However if this was the solution…
Pucky closed the lid again and continued his search. He was only one meter high, as before, but his girth had expanded twice its former size, which made him look almost like a fur ball. More than a big mouse he resembled an overfed brown bear, with a beavertail, walking on 2 feet. His movements had become more measured and his good-natured canine eyes were half covered by bulges of fat. His face had lost his natural look of shrewdness as it was too round and contented to convey such an expression.
However Pucky was far from contented. When he stopped in front of some metal sheeting shining in the light of the ceiling lamp, he was flabbergated at seeing his reflection. Altho it was slightly distorted, it was clear enough to frighten him. In the shape he was, he couldn’t let himself be seen by other people. What would Bell say? Or Betty? Would she be disappointed…?
He resumed his walk again, moving briskly with firm quick steps. The main corridor was nearly one kilometer long. It had no doors or partitions to block his way. It began 500 meters from the tail end of the vessel and ended where the domain of Rabotax began, 500 meters from the nose.
Pucky preferred to give up his sleep so he could exercise. Walking was the best way to get back in trim. He began to perspire after a few minutes.
For some inexplicable reason it was very warm in the ship altho there was no need for it except in the silos. Moreover, lights were burning thruout the ship, something Rabotax did not require. Presumably technicians of the lizards were sometimes present on the flights – or were in the past. There was no other explanation for this practice. The fact that the air was continually ventilated must have served the same purpose.
Sweating profusely, Pucky walked several kilometers up and down the corridor. There was nothing to see except bare walls of metal and he felt bored. He would have given up the monotonous exercise but the thought of Bell’s roaring laughter at the comical sight of his bloated corpulence kept him going. Under no circumstances would he give him that satisfaction, even if it meant walking around for days!
After 7 kilometers of marching he was abruptly stopped in his tracks. He had become drowsy as his legs almost mechanically moved and carried his heavy body. He kept his eyes barely opened enough to see the sidewalls and stay in the right direction. Thus he almost stumbled over the obstacle that got in his way. The object was already familiar. It was the visual translator.
It formed a picture in colors and Rabotax inquired: “Why are you doing this?”
Pucky was taken by surprise. “I’m too fat and I want to get thin again.”
Rabotax got the idea. “You spent too much time on that planet before it was harvested. Usually the process of reducing doesn’t take too long but you don’t have your normal activity. Are you in a hurry to get thin?”
“The sooner the better,” Pucky replied, not knowing how Rabotax could help him. “If my friends see me like this, they’ll die of laughter.”
The robot showed no sign of amusement. “Do you want me to help you?”
Pucky stared at the image on the picture screen. “If you can do it without harming me.”
“Follow the translator, it will lead you,” Rabotax advised in his factual manner. “And don’t be afraid!” Pucky felt relieved. If there was a quick method to get
rid of his fat, it could make him only happy. Walking it off was not a cure that appealed to him, especially not in his present surroundings.
He followed the little robot to the rear of the ship into a small room which he had not yet seen before. Its ceiling had numerous little jets which looked like a shower. The floor was perforated metal but Pucky was unable to recognize what was below it.
2 seconds later he was bathed in a lukewarm stream of air.
“You’ll have your normal figure back in one hour,” Rabotax predicted.
The harvestship passed unmolested thru the chain of defenses guarding the interstellar fortress of Arkon. The powerful automatic guns and their commanders held their fire because Atlan had seen to it that they treated the harvestship as a friend and refrained from putting obstacles in its way.
Rabotax was aware that it approached a populated world but this did nothing to deter it. The scoutship had been here before it and must have chosen the 2d planet as a safe place to let the planting ship seed the fields or Rabotax would not have been ordered to go there.
The Sirius followed the robotship from a cautious distance. Rhodan watched the movement of the flying colossus with tense fascination. Betty sat next to him with furrowed brows, betraying her state of anxiety.
“Pucky is behaving very strangely,” she finally voiced her fears. “He is suddenly shielding his thoughts from me, which he didn’t do before. It is as if he wanted to hide something from us.”