Perry Rhodan Lemuria 1: Ark of the Stars. Frank Borsch

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      Rhodan carefully took the body by the shoulders and turned it on its back. It yielded only reluctantly, twisting strangely, as though every bit of flexibility that was natural to the human form was gone.

      It was a man.

      A man. Venron sees him from large, sad eyes. The man's mouth moves unceasingly, whispering a message he cannot understand. Venron wants to say something. But he cannot. His mouth will not obey him. The man in front of him dissolves into a blur.

      Sharita and Rhodan looked at the unshaven face. The eyes lay deep in their sockets, the cheeks were sunken. The man's brown skin was waxy, and had a bluish tint. Rhodan slipped one hand behind the man's head, and with the other opened the magnetic fastenings of his jacket and wriggled out of the sleeve. He switched hands behind the man's head and shrugged his arm out of the other sleeve, then bunched the jacket up into a provisional pillow and rested the man's head on it.

      A warm hand. It feels good to be touched. This touch reminds Venron of ... Denetree. That was who he was reaching out for. He had seen her among the whirling stars. His sister would never abandon him. The shape above him flows into a new form and takes on solid outlines again. Venron sees his sister bending over him. She smiles.

      "Is ... is he still alive?" Sharita asked. She couldn't shake off her stiffness. Her beamer was aimed at Rhodan and the man. It was completely inappropriate and unnecessary, but she couldn't help it. The fingers of her right hand clutched the pistol grip with the intensity of a drowning man holding a life-saving tree limb.

      A second voice. A woman. Venron tries to turn his head. He wants to see her.

      "Yes." Rhodan glanced up at Sharita and looked pointedly at the beamer. "Put that thing away. The poor fellow certainly can't hurt us."

      "Oh ... sure." Sharita deserved the reprimand. But her fingers didn't obey. She had to use her left hand to unbend the obstinate fingers of her right.

      Rhodan turned back to the man. "Don't be afraid. It'll be all right. We'll help you. It'll be all right ... "

      The man's voice supports Venron. It is all that keeps him from falling into the abyss from which there is no return. The man will not hurt him.

      While he spoke, Rhodan held the back of his hand to the man's mouth and nose. He felt a faint movement of air. The man was still breathing. Rhodan took the man's hand and felt for his pulse.

      "The pulse is weak," he said, "but stable."

      Did he succeed? Had he found the stars? And with them friends, not enemies, like he had been taught all his life?

      "What's wrong with him?" Sharita had managed to kneel down next to the man. Her right hand still would not release her weapon, but she had at least succeeded in lowering her arm. The beamer's barrel pointed to the floor.

      Again the woman's voice. Venron wants to see her. He exerts all of his remaining strength to turn his head. Reluctantly his chilled, atrophied muscles respond. The man's whispering gives him strength.

      Rhodan shrugged. "Hunger. Thirst. Freezing cold. All I really know for sure is that if he doesn't get medical attention in a few minutes, he'll be dead. When we burned a huge hole into this compartment we removed his protection from the cold, and the temperature is sinking fast. I doubt he has the reserves to resist the sudden drop in temperature."

      Sharita nodded slowly. A part of her was screaming in her head, trying to shake her awake.

      "Sharita!"

      A cry. Sharp. Cutting.

      Sharita couldn't move.

      "Sharita!" Rhodan exclaimed. "You have the armband—call for help now!"

      A shout. What is going on? The security he was feeling begins to fade away.

      With a mighty mental effort, Sharita pulled herself together. The beamer slid from her hand and fell to the floor with a rattle. She had done it! She hit her armband with her fist. "Pearl!"

      Venron completes the movement and sees the shadowy form of the woman. Now she is shouting, too.

      "What is it, Sharita?" the response came, long seconds later.

      He opens his eyelids just a crack further. Slowly, very slowly, the outline sharpens.

      "We need help immediately! Send the Doc and his medbots down to the hangar!"

      Then he sees it: a uniform! Black as night on board the Ship.

      The man shuddered. He gasped.

      He is back. They have brought him back.

      "On the way," Pearl Laneaux announced. "What's going on? Is something wrong with Rhodan?"

      They will torture him. Execute him. They will extract everything he knows ... .

      "No, we have ... "

      No!

      The man jerked upright, staring at Rhodan from wide-open eyes.

      The man. His whispers were a lie!

      Rhodan took hold of his shoulders to press him back down to the floor. "Don't be afraid. We are friends. Lie down. Everything will be all—"

      Lies, all lies! He wanted to leave them behind him forever!

      The man threw himself to the side, away from Rhodan. He grabbed the beamer that had fallen to the floor.

      He does not want to hear any more lies. No more, not ever again!

      The man aimed and fired.

      Venron sees the beam that frees him from all care ... and turns his head into a cloud of plasma.

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