The mysterious robot that had been reactivated and sped toward them was armed with a harmless but highly effective weapon, a narcotic cannon. If it used it, it might be able to escape, which would make it virtually impossible to track it down again.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Bell apologized, discomfited.
“I know,” Rhodan smiled again. “It’s really not Pucky’s ‘vacation’ that bothers you, it’s the waiting. I’m afraid we’ll have to be patient, maybe very patient.”
Somewhere in the endless universe was a vessel, steered by a thinking robot that was determined to carry out its orders. It could arrive in the system of the Azgo star at any moment – or it could take a 100 years.
*
Each did what he liked in his leisure time. Tako made himself a fishing rod from some pieces Pucky had brought. He stood for hours at the bank of the river, casting his line with a fly he had constructed. He didn’t get a single bite and toward the evening he began to doubt seriously that there were any fish on Azgola.
Ras Tschubai gathered dry wood and built a big fire. He sat with crossed legs in front of the meter-high flames and gazed thru the blazing tongues of fire somewhere faraway, perhaps in the unknown idyllic past. His ancestors must have lived like this and he was enchanted with such a mode of life.
Pucky chose to be an explorer of nature. It would have been much easier for him to investigate the surroundings of the island by teleporting himself but this didn’t tickle his fancy. He preferred to get into his canoe and start out on his discovery trip by paddling.
The current was not too strong. Pucky paddled upstream so that he could float back with the current whenever he became tired. He kept close to one bank in order to take advantage of the backstream.
The scenery was not all that different from that on Earth. It reminded him a little of the Amazon river altho it was not as treacherous as it had been there a mere 100 years earlier. There were no predatory beasts, no snakes and no hostile natives. The climate was healthier than the tropics of Terra and it was safe to drink the water of the river.
Pucky paddled strenuously against the current. He would have given up his heroic efforts if he had not felt Ras Tschubai’s eyes staring at his back. The African probably compared the little mousebeaver with one of his wild ancestors, a brave chief, and not wanting to rob him of his illusion, Pucky persisted in paddling his canoe.
Fortunately the river made a bend and he withdrew from the view of his friends on the island. He steered his little boat as quickly as he could into a lazily flowing sidebranch and penetrated deeper into the primordial forest. Here the water was dark and turbid. The mousebeaver half expected to see a crocodile emerge and snap its jaws at him but he kept reminding himself that no such animals abounded anywhere on Azgola – to the best of his knowledge.
Pucky felt satiated. Altho he had not taken a bite since yesterday he felt as if he had half a shipload of carrots in his stomach. He carefully examined his belly and thought he could notice that he was already getting fatter.
The offshoot widened to a lake with a different shore. The forest receded and gave way to idyllic sandy bays and grassy slopes. The lichen spread everywhere among the trees and in the grass. A waterfall gushed into the lake from the terraced hills rising in the background.
Pucky was very human in this respect: he had to know what lay behind it. He teleported himself and the canoe over the waterfall and it was well worth the effort, even more than he could have anticipated.
He landed on a big lake which was fed by another cascade at the far end. Several small islands with parklike landscapes enhanced the picturesque scene. He resumed paddling happily but suddenly perked up and stopped. Strange thought impulses!
Impossible! Not a single Azgon had been left on the planet after the evacuation. Or so they said!
Pucky concentrated on the thought impulses and determined that an Azgon must be present on one of the islands. As the Azgons were known to be peaceful and harmless, Pucky had no reason to be afraid. Besides he had to help the poor forgotten straggler because he was doomed to be smothered to death by all his fat if he remained any longer on Azgola.
Pucky steered toward the island from where the thought impulses eminated. He noticed that the surface of the water was not as clear as underneath. It was covered with a layer of blue-green fat. At first the mousebeaver did not understand what had happened but he soon guessed the explanation. It had rained the night before and a part of the spores suspended in the atmosphere must have come down with the precipitation. He looked at the shore of the island and saw that a shimmering layer also blanketed the plants and especially the moss.
Then he turned his attention to his canoe again and beached it on the sand. After pulling it out of the water he set out to locate the source of the vague and jumbled thought impulses. Meanwhile he had determined that at least two Azgons must be hidden on the island.
When he found them he saw that he was not mistaken. In a small clearing which was covered with moss and a few boulders and surrounded by bushes two Azgons lay stretched out on the ground. They had folded their arms under their heads and gazed at the cloudless sky.
The two Azgons were fat but not as fat as Pucky had expected. He concluded from the scientific gear standing around that they had been engaged in some kind of research. There was a tent pitched at the edge of the clearing.
When the mousebeaver walked across the clearing and stood still near the resting Azgons, he was startled by their lethargy. The less corpulent of the two barely raised his head, stared at him and said impassively: “We’ve got company.”
Then he leaned his head back again and closed his eyes. The Azgons spoke a mangled Arkonide idiom which Pucky could have understood without his telepathic capabilities. And, vice versa, they must be able to understand him too.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, putting both hands on his sides. “Don’t you know that Azgola has been evacuated?”
The Azgon opened his eyes again, “Who are you?” Pucky took a deep ,breath. He understood that he wouldn’t get anywhere without patience. He sat down and without beating about the bush gave them a quick report about the blubber moss. The two Azgons were apparently well-educated scientists and therefore able to understand his introduction. In conclusion he said: “They must have forgotten you or you would have left Azgola with all the others. What puzzles me however is how you managed to survive with all that cholesterol in your hearts. Did you stop breathing?”
The two Azgons now sat up and leaned their backs against a boulder. The larger one studied Pucky very closely before he informed him that they were indeed naturalists who were attracted by the ecology of the area. However they knew nothing about the spores. Altho they had lost their appetites and had eaten nothing for weeks, they felt pleasantly full and had constantly gained weight. If Pucky was of the opinion they were not too fat, he was badly mistaken. They had more than enough of it. They had been lying in the sun for days and hardly ever took a walk. It really was all the same to them, as long as they were left in peace. They had never had such a lazy life and it was great that they no longer had to eat. Being quite happy here, they had no desire to leave. Ever!
Pucky realized that their obese condition had caused the symptoms of lethargy. However it still remained a puzzle to him why they had not yet become so fat as to be unable to move. Were there fewer spores in the air of the island than in the higher regions or in the city? Had the water anything to do with it? He would have to leave it to Terra’s scientists to investigate the reason. “They’ll come and pick you up,” he finally said. “Are there any more of you who were missed?”
“I couldn’t care less,” the heavyweight muttered. “I told you that we like it here …”
“I know.” Pucky interrupted him. He was dubious and decided to inform Rhodan anyway. The scientists did not seem to be in any immediate danger but it was better to play it safe. “Well then, please yourselves and have your picnic!” He turned around and walked to his canoe, when one of the Azgons called after him: “You don’t look so skinny either, roly-poly!”