Authors: Mack Maloney
Back on Earth
It was a rare rainy day over Big Bright City.
Though they had tried, the weather engineers just weren’t able to make it pleasant and sunny.
A gray drizzle was falling instead; the streets of downtown looked dull, runny. Empty. No one was about, on the ground or above it. Most of the floating cities had drifted farther to the south to avoid the inconvenient atmospheric conditions.
However, the imperial city Number One had stayed overhead, casting its dull Holy Shadow across most of the old city, making a gloomy afternoon even gloomier.
An air-chevy approached the main entrance to Number One. A squad of guards lazily waved it through.
Covered in bulky, seldom-used rain gear, the soldiers didn’t even bother to scan the tiny flying car. They were too busy trying to stay dry.
The air-chevy zipped through the main gate, then negotiated the labyrinth of streets and alleyways, finally arriving at a nondescript building about half a mile away from the Imperial Palace.
A lone figure dressed all in black emerged from the air car and hovered unsteadily in the fog enveloping the floating city. No guards were on hand to greet him.
He glided up the back stairway of the building without an escort, arriving at a hallway where the light seemed dimmer than usual. Again, there were no guards on duty. He slipped down the hallway and reached the huge oak door. He knocked once. Nothing. He knocked again. Still no reply.
He lowered himself to the floor and opened the door himself. The two guards inside were asleep. He went by them silently, and into the next room, where the Empress was waiting for him.
The room was cold. There was no fire in the fireplace. Nor was there an assortment of liquor to choose from. Just a single bottle of slow-ship wine and an unclean glass.
The spy poured himself a drink anyway. Instead of sitting on the couch next to the Empress, he slid into the chair across from her.
“My queen, are you well?” he asked.
She shook her head no, and without further explanation, sipped her wine.
“More bad news?” she asked him.
“You asked to stay informed,” the spy told her.
“You’re right, I did—I just didn’t realize that seeing your face again so quickly would cause such a feeling of gloom.”
The spy sipped his drink. “I must serve you, my lady,” he replied acidly. “No matter what dark clouds follow me here.”
She looked at him queerly. “Have you ever been an actor?” she asked. “Or have you always been a spy?”
The man did not meet her gaze. “Though I’m sure each job has a little of both,” he replied, “I cannot imagine an actor making as good a spy as a spy making a good actor.”
She sipped her wine again. “What is your latest bad news, then?”
The spy leaned forward a bit. “A disturbing battle on a moon within the Dead Gulch Star System.”
“And where in the heavens might that be?”
“As far out in your realm as one can go, my lady. Outer Fringe, the very end of the Fifth Arm…”
“And why was this battle so disturbing?”
“Both the Solar Guards and the X-Forces were involved,” he replied.
The Empress’s eyes went wide. “They fought each other?” she asked, troubled.
The spy quickly shook his head no. “We are not to that point, my lady—not yet, anyway,” he said.
“What happened then?”
“An intervention,” the spy told her. “The X-Forces became involved initially—that man, Hunter, the winner of the Earth Race. It was his command. His ship. His intervention—though it was totally unauthorized. Apparently something must have gone wrong because the X-Forces made a rare emergency call for assistance. The Solar Guards showed up. With a Kaon Bombardment ship.”
He let those last few words hang in the air for a moment.
“It’s always disturbing to hear when one of those things is deployed,” the Empress said darkly.
“It was a quick, violent engagement once the Solar Guards became involved,” the spy said. “They wound up slaughtering an army of mercenaries in five minutes, after those mercenaries spent a year slaughtering half the population of the satellite in question.”
The Empress seemed to react to a slight pain in her chest. “What is the death toll?”
The spy shrugged. “In all, approaching a hundred thousand souls. Mostly a warring group known as the Nakkz. The feeling in the neighborhood is that they had it coming.”
“Good or bad, they were still
our
subjects,” the Empress said with a harsh whisper. “What were these people fighting about?”
The spy just shrugged again. “Who knows?” he answered. “I don’t think they even know themselves.
But this man Hunter and his X-Forces vessel arrived over the planet at what was a crucial time in their history. How and why they decided to intervene—well, we’re still looking into that. The ship has been recalled, of course—the crew will be interrogated.”
“And who was the Solar Guards commander who came to the rescue, so to speak?”
“Jak Dazz.”
The Empress showed some surprise.
“The top man? So far out on the Fringe? Why?”
“He says he had a premonition of trouble,” the spy replied.
“He was in the area and diverted his flight to the planet in question.”
“And he just happened to have a Kaon Bombardment ship close by, too?”
The spy nodded. “That’s his story, and apparently he’s sticking to it.”
The Empress drained her glass and rose to pour another.
“And have they found one on this moon yet?”
“One what, my lady?”
She turned and looked at him sternly. “Why be coy now? You know what I mean.”
The spy hesitated. “A pyramid, you mean? Not that I know of.”
“Just a matter of time,” she whispered.
She refilled her wineglass but did not speak for a long time.
Finally she asked: “And this person, Hunter, what happened to him?”
“He’s gone, my lady. He left the field of battle in the company of a priest.”
She turned and looked at the spy. “You’re saying he deserted?”
The spy drained his glass and refilled it as well. “I haven’t seen anything to the contrary,” he replied.
The Empress sipped her wine again and stared into the cold fireplace.
“Some hero he turned out to be,” she said.
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