Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  Nazeera couldn’t hear anything, but she knew the transmitter was working, because the effect on the birds was immediate. The birds wheeled up and around, squawking angrily, and turning toward Nazeera. The cliff face erupted in a profusion of color as scores of other giant birds left their perches. They made for her, talons glinting in the fading light, half meter beaks snapping in fury.

  Nazeera crouched and gained speed. She slalomed through the whirling flock, shooting as she skidded over the brown water. Her shots scorched the birds, but the beams only maddened the birds—the setting wasn’t strong enough to drive them off.

  A mass of seething, screeching, color enveloped Nazeera. She could only react, darting into patches of clear air, firing from pistols in both hands as she twisted and turned through the feather strewn air. It was wild and perilous. A hum whooshed by her, and she turned hard toward it, surprised by the unwelcome sound, but it was only Nazar.

  “By the Moons, Nazeera, are you trying to do Bureel’s job for him?” He was riding a similar antigravity disk, and he was armed as she was—but the beams from his guns were brighter. When he shot a bird it squawked and flew out of the fight. “Relax! He’s still alive, and quietly bedded down for the night in a niche in the cliff—as you should be! This is insane!”

  “Then go home and go to bed, Nazar!”

  Nazeera was just beginning to find release of the tension of watching the drama at the Assemblage. She’d convinced herself that she had no true feelings beyond respect for Alexander; the kiss they shared was a natural reaction to the time they’d spent together—yet each new peril had her holding her breath. She watched his trials alongside her peers wearing a mask of cold interest, but beneath her armor her gut was churning with intimate disquiet. Bureel’s political and personal schemes did not help matters any. This perilous exercise was pure joy in comparison.

  Nazar pulled up next to her, firing as he flew. “Alexander’s safe, Nazeera, and that’s where you should be—safe and at home!”

  “He’s safe for the moment, but I’ve let an opportunity slip away. You were right, Nazar,” she admitted, stealing a glance at him. “He’s a masterful being. We face the prospect that Alexander’s death will hurt the Empire in ways we can’t imagine, when his friendship might have ended an era of fear and anticipation.”

  Nazeera shot at three birds closing in on Nazar. He ducked as the beams sizzled by his head.

  “It’s not the Empire I’m worried about, it’s these blasted cormantars you’ve enraged, and Bureel!” Nazar said with a grimace. He slid behind Nazeera and shot a bird coming up from underneath her. “The birds are sneaky, like your current husband! Don’t worry; Alexander’s built himself for this moment, Nazeera. Destiny is on his side.”

  Nazar pulled alongside Nazeera again, trying to keep his antigravity disk steady enough to talk to her while avoiding the cormantars and Nazeera’s shots. “I only hope we’re still alive when he returns!”

  Nazeera grimaced, flipped upside-down and fired at the roiling flock below. One of the cormantars took advantage of her maneuver to dive on her. Nazar saw it before Nazeera did and shot the bird in the wing; its momentum carried it right into her. It hit Nazeera hard, knocking the wind out of her and sending her spinning into the humid air.

  Nazeera was too low to retrieve her disk in time. She hit the emergency button on her belt and a microscopic antigravity generator sprang to life. It didn’t stop her fall, but it slowed her to a survivable speed—that is, if the cormantars left her alone.

  They didn’t.

  The giant birds must have sensed her helplessness, for they dove on her with renewed vigor. Nazeera increased the energy level of her gun, but she couldn’t maneuver herself to see all the cormantars.

  A pair of claws ripped at her back, tearing through the thin armor and gashing her flesh. She dropped one of her guns as it sent her flying, but it was a strangely fortunate thing—a huge cormantar sped by—its beak snapped in the moist, empty air where her head used to be.

  Nazeera steadied herself, swearing mightily, and shooting as fast as she could. It wasn’t enough. Another bird wheeled on her—claws outstretched. Thump! The breath left her lungs in a great rasping gasp, but it was Nazar. He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Hold on!” he said, as he accelerated out of the angry flock. He had to make several hasty turns, all that more difficult with Nazeera’s extra weight, but momentarily they were out of danger.

  Nazar flew to the top of the cliffs and set down on a rocky promontory next to the waterfall.

  Nazeera stepped off, saying, “Thanks, Nazar, I owe you that one.”

  He waved her thanks aside, getting the medical kit out of the disk. “I’d be happy if all we had to worry about was birds.” He opened the kit and scanned her back. “There are no infectious bacteria, just some lacerations. The scanner can close them up—just stay still for half a moment, if that’s possible.”

  “I wonder, is there support in the Assemblage for the accomplishment of Bureel’s challenge?” she mused, as if the fight never happened—completely oblivious to their perch overlooking a thousand foot waterfall in the emerald green Chem forests. “I’m beginning to think Bureel and his scheming are a greater threat to the Empire than Alexander.”

  “Finally coming to that conclusion, eh? Well, unfortunately that will take time,” Nazar sighed, finishing the medical scan and fusing her clothing back together. “When Alexander challenged him over the ethernet Bureel had no choice but to reiterate his challenge in public. He could never have backed down in the open Assemblage. That you brilliantly made it a motion of Assemblage Procedure makes it official. A pity you wouldn’t support the idea when Alexander was on Chem. This would all be over by now. Bureel would be dead, and you would be happily married off and on vacation producing what can only be described as interesting heirs.”

  “Please Nazar; don’t twist the story into an undeserving and unrealistic drama.”

  “As you wish, Nazeera, but remember Alexander is on Pantrixnia fighting for his life while Bureel is after our heads. I don’t know what he has over you, but I can guess Alexander fits very neatly into that puzzle. For that I’m sorry—it’s my fault for compromising you.”

  He punched a code in his control pad. Nazeera’s antigravity disk obediently climbed up to them and landed next to Nazar’s. He punched another code, and they heard the whine of an aerocar approaching. “I put it to you, what better way to solve the collective problems of Bureel and the Terran threat? Bring back Alexander, have him kill Bureel, and marry him. I’ll pay for the honeymoon.”

  “I’m the one with the fortune, Nazar.”

  “A technicality,” he shrugged, as his aerocar landed. He opened the trunk and took out a bottle of wine and a basket. “Looking after you is hungry work,” he told her, and he poured them each a glass of wine. There was food as well. Nazar handed Nazeera a drumstick and then munched on his own.

  “You’ve got to stop being so blasted liberal, Nazeera. You know as well as I that cementing empires through marriage is a time honored tradition. Nor is this problematic—we both know Alexander has more than a passing interest in you.”

  “Which you know a good deal too much about,” Nazeera interrupted.

  “If I hadn’t been distracted by duty I’d know even more—we wouldn’t be in this mess.” The sun set over the verdant mountains, turning the sky red. Nazar elbowed his sister playfully, “I know enough be certain that Alexander would find the concept intriguing, and why not? He’s Alexander, and it’s the Chem who concern him above all other people. Without an armada of his own, however, Chem is unassailable. Let the other Galactics fear his legions. Chem doesn’t fear Alexander, but we can use him for the greater good of the Empire.

  “This is all moot with Alexander on Pantrixnia,” Nazeera growled, looking up at the brightening stars. She found the slightly golden pinprick of light that was the Pantrixnian sun, and looked away, unable to contemplate the man as practically as her br
other.

  “All is not lost,” he said. “There’s a good chance that we can get him back, and that he would be willing to work with us. Many of the younger members who support Bureel are clamoring for a vote. They want Alexander returned to Chem to undergo the challenge, and for once I agree with them. Be patient.”

  “A few more decurns and he could be dead. Bureel and his cronies will have all the more reason for a war of aggression, and our position could well be untenable.”

  “Have some faith in Alexander. His survival this decurn was not entirely due to luck and that fact didn’t go unnoticed. Give Alexander a decand and he’ll have the Assemblage looking for a way out of this thing; they’ll be ready to go and get him just to avoid a war with Terra.”

  “Or they’ll vote for the immediate extermination of all life on Terra, as a precaution,” Nazeera replied, finishing her wine and pouring herself another glass. She got up and paced the rock next to the roaring river. “As brave as Terrans may be they have no armada. Our ships would be able to stand off in orbit and bombard the planet into rubble.”

  “That’s a possibility, but don’t discount the media,” Nazar told her, settling back on a moss covered bank. Something caught his attention and he glanced at the display on his sleeve. “Dear sister, would you mind coming my way about three meters—be quick but not too quick please.”

  Nazeera knew her brother well enough not to argue. She did as he asked, making her movements as casual as she could muster. She watched Nazar, who seemed unperturbed by whatever his display told him; slide a half meter long black mechanism from the basket. He clipped this into a rod tucked in his boot, and pulled the telescoping tube out to a meter in length.

  “Right there is fine, Nazeera, now drink your wine and don’t move!” Nazar checked his wrist again, and manipulated his remote, muttering. “There’s no courtesy amongst this new generation—our generation. Here we are having a nice quiet picnic and they’re intent on spoiling it. Bloody bastards—they’re good though!”

  Nazeera wasn’t sure what Nazar was talking about, but she trusted his judgment.

  His aerocar’s engine started, and it revved up.

  “I don’t think they’ll notice that, but I can’t take the risk,” he said, again sounding as if he were talking to himself. He attached his remote to the top of the black mechanism and flipped the screen up. Then he withdrew another bottle of wine from the basket—at least Nazeera thought it was a bottle but it was slightly flattened and concave at the broad end. Nazar shoved it into the back of the mechanism.

  It wasn’t until he did that the Nazeera realized he’d put together a rifle. He smiled.

  A shot split the air.

  Nazeera flinched despite her monumental self control and dove for the ground. The air rang, and out of the corner of her eye she saw an angry splash of energy spread out in a golden blaze two meters behind her.

  Nazar rolled himself prone, and raised the rifle to his cheek. He looked into the screen of the gun, and said, “The next one’s going for the car—and that one, my friend, will fry you!”

  Sure enough, another shot sounded, and Nazar’s car erupted in flames.

  “Got you!” he said smoothly, and he shot once. “Oh my, that one hurt—right down your sight! That won’t leave much to look at for the funeral. Oh, you have a partner, run rabbit run!”

  He shot again.

  “Anyone else?” he smiled, checking his screen. Nazar turned to Nazeera, and said, “That’s all of them.” He got up and walked over to his smoldering car, shaking his head. “Damn! It’s brand new, and bought with your money, Nazeera. Too bad, but I needed the extra power for the defensive screens.” Nazar picked up his wine and took a long swig. “The gunner used an express rifle—same one Alexander picked for Pantrixnia—nasty weapon.”

  “How long did you know about them?” Nazeera asked.

  “They followed you here,” Nazar told her. “I thought they were after me initially—why take you out now Nazeera? Bureel wants an heir first doesn’t he?”

  “He has my eggs, Nazar,” she growled. “As much as he might like to consummate the act physically he knows he has legal access to my eggs should I die.”

  “We need to get Alexander back here,” Nazar said, and his expression was deadly serious.

  “Is that what is best for Chem, though?”

  “What? Do you really think that Terrans pose such a threat to Chem?” Nazar asked, obviously startled by her response. He pulled up a tape of Terrans on the screen of his sleeve. It was footage intercepted by the Chem scout ship that kidnapped Alexander.

  There were two Terrans—they were painting the interior of a house. He grimaced. “Look at them. If they’re going to waste time and effort broadcasting programs on habitation remodeling I wouldn’t say they’re on a war footing! I may have a high opinion about Alexander, but I’m not so certain of his people. I think they’re ignorant, as Alexander said they are, to all that’s gone on. Oh they still have their aspirations, but that’s for the future. The Scythians, for all their treachery, have succeeded in keeping their word and bottling up the Terrans.”

  “That line of reasoning only works if the Terrans stay ignorant, Nazar. If you were a Scythian, with some semblance of common sense, what would you do? Consider your millennia long lie revealed, and the talk of alliance against the Chem is just that, talk.”

  “I would plead like the worm I was.”

  Nazeera shook her head, “No Nazar, you would run helter skelter to Terra with stories of the evil Chem who are intent upon their destruction. You would arm Terra with your ample supply of weapons. You would, in essence, make your lies the truth. I raised my concerns with the Elder today. We’ve dispatched another spy ship to Terra, but it will take almost nine decurns to reach Terra.”

  Nazar thought a moment, “Decurns are roughly one Terran day-night cycle. I assume that our Armada will be ready on time another one hundred and twenty decurns hence, and it takes twenty decurns at fleet speed to reach Terra. The Armada will enter the Terran system approximately one hundred and forty Terran cycles from today. What could the Terrans possibly hope to accomplish in that amount of time, even with Scythian help?”

  “It depends on how motivated they are,” Nazeera replied.

  “Maybe, but the best thing we can do for ourselves, and Chem, is to wait. Let Alexander do our work for us. In the end we shall gain support for bringing Alexander back to Chem. He’ll kill Bureel and marry the honorable Nazeera of the Triumvirate. At one stroke we shall gain peace with Terra, and joy for ourselves. The disciplining of Scythia can then take place at our leisure, success assured. Remember, Alexander has no liking for them either.”

  Nazeera smiled weakly, “Another arranged marriage, Nazar?”

  “Don’t worry, Nazeera, at the worst our Armada will arrive at Terra and find a planet-bound populace without enough defenses to be worthy of bombing. If there is no threat there is no reason to make war upon them. Given a thousand decurns, maybe, but one hundred, it’s not possible. What could they have to put against us at ten decands?”

  Nazar smiled, scoffing at the idea, blissfully unaware that the Terran battleship Iowa was, at that very moment, lifting off out of Newport News. She was heading for orbit, and her guns were pointing into space.

  CHAPTER 30: Wild Kingdom

  Dawn found Alexander chilled and painfully stiff. The first day on Pantrixnia demanded more from his body than he’d thought possible, especially after so many years of relative inactivity. He didn’t hurry himself, therefore, as the morning brightened. He stretched leisurely and looked about.

  The tiny cave, a crack really, offered just enough room for him to set his back against the wall and stay out of the rain. He stayed dry so long as the wind didn’t drive the rain into the cliff. The cliff itself was his primary protection. It was almost one hundred meters high and not quite vertical. The wall was cracked and pitted so climbing wasn’t difficult. The jungle improved matters even more. It grew ba
ck on a shelf behind the cliff’s edge. The trees leaned over it, sending vines and creepers down the steep slope. Alexander amused himself with the thought of his sleeping in this bird’s nest. A month ago he’d not have climbed such a rock face for any reason. Heights made him nervous if he didn’t have an airplane strapped to him. Events now made the aerie quite attractive, and he was quite pleased that he found a place at once so safe and accessible.

  He looked out over his new world, sipping fresh water from a concave leaf that he left at his feet during the night to catch rainwater. The morning mists steamed from the jungle as the land fell away into a broad depression. The cliff was at the edge of a roughly circular depression. Mountains rose in the haze maybe sixty or seventy kilometers distant. The sun rose from that direction so he named it east.

  The mountains swung north and south, disappearing into a jumble of rolling forest. To the North they left the jungle and made a chain of emerald clad islands in a sea glittering with the morning sun. There was no sign of any other landscape besides jungle. At its closest point he guessed the sea to be at least thirty or forty kilometers away. There was a white ribbon of mist, probably a river, which wound southwest towards his haven. It passed behind the ridge to his left, and it looked to be only a kilometer or so distant. He was just thinking he’d have a look at it today when a movement caught his eye.

  He looked to the sky and saw a bird circling overhead. It seemed to be watching him, and trying to decide just how to go about plucking him from his perch. The animal was certainly large enough to carry him off, but Alexander was in a well protected position. The bird circled for a few more minutes and then descended. He drew his sword and backed into the crack. The light disappeared as the bird hovered just outside the crack, blindly grasping inside with its claws.

  Alexander was not so much worried as irritated. The bird had an unenviable task, considering his position. He, on the other hand, just had to wait for an opening. When the bird drew close enough he lunged forward, plunging the blade into the feathered belly. He withdrew the weapon quickly to keep the crippled bird from wrenching the sword from his hands.