LITMIR.BIZ

      LEMURIA 1

      Ark of the Stars

      by Frank Borsch

      Translated

      by Dwight R. Decker

      Pabel-Moewig Verlag KG, Rastatt

      About Perry Rhodan

      Perry Rhodan the series was born in Germany in 1961. Originally planned as a thirty-issue periodical, its unexpected success prompted the publisher to extend that plan to fifty issues. Now, fifty-four years and more than 2,800 magazine novels (plus a plethora of related products) later, Perry Rhodan stands as the longest-running ongoing science-fiction storyline in existence.

      Perry Rhodan the character was born on June 8, 1936 in Manchester, Connecticut, the son of Jakob Edgar Rhodan (a German émigré post-WWI) and Mary Rhodan (nee Tibo). He graduated from the US Air Force Academy and began a career as a pilot. On June 19, 1971, Major Perry Rhodan commanded the atomic-powered spaceship Stardust on the first manned moon-landing, accompanied by three other astronauts.

      On the far side of the moon, the men discovered the scientific research vessel of an extraterrestrial race; the humanoid Arkonides had been forced to make an emergency landing. Perry Rhodan established contact with the Arkonides, as a result receiving some of their superior technology. Unwilling to place this unimaginably powerful technology in the hands of a single political power, upon his return to Earth Rhodan landed in the Gobi Desert, rather than the United States.

      The world currently was facing the very real possibility of WWIII. With the influence of the Arkonide technology, Perry Rhodan managed to prevent the war, and even bring the various political blocs to a new level of cooperation. He established what he named the New Power, a neutral entity that owed allegiance to all of humanity, rather than a nation or ideology. Further, he declared his new citizenship to the planet Terra, calling himself a Terran. He gained many allies to his cause, among them a group of parapsychologically gifted people known as mutants. The Mutant Corps possessed telepathy, teleportation, telekinesis and other abilities. Rhodan united humanity—and opened the gateway to the stars ...

      Ark of the Stars is a journey into the future of humanity—and into its distant past.

      1

      The stars called to him.

      Venron had never seen them. Not with his own eyes. Only in ancient visual recordings. Secretly and furtively, always in fear that the Tenoy would catch him and the other Star Seekers.

      The Seekers had surrendered in utter amazement to the glory of the stars. Had attempted to count them and finally given up. There were too many; one could never succeed in grasping the sheer number of them. And to what purpose? Even in the depictions shown by the slowly but inexorably decaying memory units, the stars were the most beautiful things they had ever seen.

      Venron had to see them.

      With his own eyes.

      He had to be certain that he was not yearning for a delusion.

      Venron took off the thick plastic apron and gloves that had protected him for the past few hours from the thorns of the protein plants. The protein these plants provided was the richest available. But why the protein plants so reluctantly parted with their fruits remained a mystery to Venron. Perhaps the tenkren who developed them weren't in complete control of their own handiwork. Or perhaps the difficulty of harvesting had some intention he didn't understand.

      A voice wrenched him out of his thoughts.

      "Doing anything after your shift?" asked Melenda.

      Venron looked up in surprise. He hadn't noticed Melenda come into the supply shed. She was his age, a voluptuous, outgoing woman with long hair and a swing in her hips that he had dreamed about for many nights after she had been assigned to his Metach'ton. But the stars had won out in the end. Now he seldom dreamed of Melenda.

      "Yes. I ... I wanted to read some more," he lied. "You know, study."

      Melenda looked puzzled. "I don't understand why you want to hide from the rest of the world." She stepped close to him, reached out her hand as though she wanted to take his, but then let her arm drop. "You should occasionally come out of that hole you've dug for yourself. I'm getting together with the others at the bow—Delder's plants have new blossoms. He says a shot of the juice will give you a kick like you've never felt before. And Delder knows his stuff! I bet he'll be a tenkren one of these days. You know the others don't especially like you, but I can put in a good word for you."

      "Thanks," Venron said, "but I can't. Maybe some other time?"

      "Some other time? You don't even believe that yourself!" Melenda dropped her apron carelessly on the bench and stormed out of the shed. The door banged behind her, making the whole structure shake.

      Venron stared at the door for a few moments, then folded his apron carefully and shoved it and the gloves in the pigeonholes provided for them. Then he picked up Melenda's carelessly discarded apron and repeated the procedure.

      He did it even though it wasn't logical. No one would come into the supply shed before the next shift, which didn't start until the next morning. But Venron couldn't bring himself to go against his training. "Waste is our downfall," he had been taught since childhood. "Our resources are limited and few!" Some traitor you are! he thought. You even clean up after those you plan to betray!

      Venron left the shed. It was already getting dark. A bicycle leaned against a post nearby. He typed an inquiry on the handlebar screen display; the status indicator showed the bicycle was not in use. Good. It would make things go faster. Venron rode off, cruising with the familiarity of long years through the maze of paths that wound through the fields and gardens of the Outer Deck. He enjoyed the breeze that poured over his skin and streamed through his hair as he rode. On the bicycle, it was easy to forget the high gravity trying to pull him to the ground. The higher gravity of the Outer Deck made their limbs tire quickly during work. By noon, most of the metach thought only of catching their breath and of the Middle Deck, where they would be allowed to return after their shift.

      At long intervals, Venron met other metach. Only a few were out and about at this hour; most were sitting with the rest of their Metach'ton and lingering over their evening meal. Why waste time on the Outer Deck where there was only sweat and hard work? He waved in greeting to the people he passed. His pulse sped up each time, returning to normal only when he went around a curve and didn't hear a shout of, "Hey, stop! What are you up to?"

      People seemed to assume he was just what he appeared to be: a somewhat distracted metach occupying the time after his shift by taking a spin. His activity was uncommon, but also not remarkable, viewed mostly as a harmless whim.

      No one seemed to realize he was a traitor.

      In the distance, Venron spotted a young woman on a bicycle, her upper body bent well forward in order to offer less resistance as she rode.

      Immediately yanking the handlebars to the left, he shot down between rows of bushes. Sliding off the seat, he crouched down so that he could see the path without being seen, and didn't move until the woman had passed.

      It was Denetree. She had tied her hair into a knot as she usually did when she made her rounds. Her legs rose

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