What next?
"Horn here." Matt Horn's voice snapped from the audio speakers. "What is it, Sark?"
"There has been a development, Captain," said Sark. "Fantasy World has broken orbit."
Horn paused. "Broken orbit?"
"The planet has launched itself out of the ecliptic plane," said Sark. "It is no longer orbiting its sun."
"How is that even possible?" said Horn.
Sark stared at the image on the viewscreen: a blue-green world with clouds of white, moving through space. On the side of the world opposite Horn's party, four mammoth tubular towers reached from the surface into space, topped with exhaust vents blossoming with the bright orange flares of propulsion.
"The planet has grown enormous gravity drive engines," said Sark. "A logical, if unprecedented, application of its matter-and-energy replication technology."
Horn sighed. "Course?"
"The planet is heading toward the Interplanetary Alliance," said Sark.
"Do you know who's down here, Mr. Sark?" Horn did not wait for an answer. "Harvey Murk."
"Indeed." Sark was surprised.
"Claims he's a god now," said Horn. "Going on a holy crusade to spread the word."
"I see." Sark nodded. He had his answer to the secondary question that had occurred to him earlier.
What next?
"A holy crusade based on a mobile planet with the technology to replicate enormous constructs," said Sark. "Such as gravity drive engines big enough to move a planet."
"Or weapons big enough to destroy one," said Horn.
*****
Chapter 6
Earth Year 2270
Aboard the U.S.S. Infinitude
Personal Journal. Lieutenant Kubwa Uzuri recording.
We are chasing a runaway planet...Fantasy World, which is traveling through space at gravity drive speed. If only I'd told the man I love how I feel. Now he and the rest of the landing party are trapped. An energy field on the planet's surface is blocking our teleporters. What if I never see him again?
*****
"Infinitude to Captain Horn," said Uzuri, gracefully playing the controls of her bridge console. It was the third time she had repeated the hail, and she was frowning with worry.
Is the field blocking our signal, or has something happened to the landing party?
Finally, Horn's voice rang from the console speaker. "Horn here...and 'here' does not look at all like the Infinitude teleporter room."
"Correct." Sark rose from the command chair and walked over to stand behind Uzuri. "The planet has surrounded itself with an energy field. It protects the surface during grav speed transit...and will not allow our teleporter beams to penetrate."
"Has the planet changed course yet?" said Horn.
"Still heading for the Interplanetary Alliance," said Sark. "Grav speed eight point five."
"Then it's just as well we're stuck here. We'll work this problem from the inside." Horn's voice lowered. "But we could use some support."
"Acknowledged." Sark's tone was flat...but when Uzuri looked up at him, she spied the true concern in his eyes.
You can't hide everything, Mr. Sark. We've served together too long.
And in a week, we might never see each other again.
As always, the thought of her coming transfer filled Uzuri with mixed emotions. She was excited about being promoted and jumping to the command track...but she would miss her longtime shipmates.
One in particular.
"You've notified Astrofleet, of course," said Horn.
"We shall continue to keep them apprised of the situation," said Sark.
"As I will you," said Horn. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to get my hands dirty. Murky is more like it."
When Sark said nothing, Uzuri spoke up over the link. "Murky as in Harvey Murk, sir?"
"They don't get much dirtier." Horn sounded like he was smirking when he said it. Uzuri knew the expression well.
She had studied it--and all his expressions--at length. She had committed his looks and tics and gestures and habits to memory.
Ever since that kiss. The one on the planet Socraticus. Little did the Socraticans know what they had set in motion.
Did I always love him? Or did I only start that day?
Either way, the kiss unlocked my feelings. My heart.
But can I tell him before I leave? Will I even have the chance?
"Horn out," he said, and Uzuri closed the channel. Sark looked her in the eyes as he told her to contact Astrofleet Command, and she wondered if he knew her as well as she knew him. Could he tell what she was thinking?
I have a secret.
I'm in love with Captain Horn.
*****
"No more secrets, Harvey." Horn took another step toward Murk. "I want answers, and I want them now."
Still floating on the cloud beneath his feet, Murk drifted backward. "Need-to-know only, Horn." He grinned nervously. "Mysterious ways and all that. You understand."
Horn stepped forward again, and Murk backed up some more.
Pretty jumpy for a god, if you ask me.
"About this crusade," said Horn. "What's the first stop?"
"Wish I could say," said Murk.
Horn flashed a look at each member of the landing party, locking eyes and bobbing his head toward Murk. Everyone moved to obey the silent order.
Surround him.
Horn took another step. "How long will it last? How far will it go?"
Murk backed up. "My lips are sealed." With thumb and forefinger, he turned an imaginary key in an imaginary lock between his lips, then threw away the key.
"Sounds painful." Horn stopped moving forward. His team was in position, encircling Murk. "Can we help him with that, Doc?"
"I recommend detaching his vocal apparatus from his anus," said McKee. "Stop him from talking out of his ass so much."
"Do it," said Horn, and then he leaped forward.
Horn tackled Murk around the knees and pushed him backward, knocking him off the floating cloud. As soon as the two of them hit the ground, the rest of the landing party moved in, restraining Murk's arms and legs.
Within seconds, Murk was pinned.
He looked furious. "Not smart, Horn! I'm a god! Remember what I did to you before?"
"Just give us some straight answers, Harvey," said Horn. "Is that so hard?"
Murk thrashed in the grip of the landing party. "Do you know how many ways I can kill you?" He shook his long, blond hair out of his face.
"Tell us about the crusade," said Horn. "Tell us what happened to the Caretaker."
"Do you know the only reason you're still alive?" said Murk. "Because I haven't made up my mind what I'll do to you first!"
No. That's not why.
As Horn stared down at Murk, he had a revelation. Something in Murk's expression. His voice.
He's lying.
"Go ahead." Horn got to his feet. "Do your worst."
"Keptin?" Nabokov stared as if he thought that Horn had lost his mind.
McKee, Sanu, and Zahara gave him exactly the same stare. Horn warned them all off with a wave of his hand.
"Impress me, Harvey." Horn spread his arms wide. "Blow my mind."
Murk squirmed and grunted. The man who had turned into a fifty-foot devil and melted down the entire landing party a little over an hour ago fixed a laser-like glare of intense hatred dead in the middle of Horn's forehead.
Horn felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, but he didn't flinch.
I'm right. I know I'm right.
I'd better be right.
"Second thoughts, Horn?" Murk's voice was a growl.
Horn waved him onward. "Bring it on, Harvey."
Murk's glare intensified. His head lifted from the marble floor and quivered as he bore down. His upper lip curled in a snarl, revealing tightly clenched teeth underneath.
A moment passed. Then another.
Murk continued to glare and shiver, but Horn knew by then. He kne
w it for a fact.
I was right.
"Not much of a god anymore, Harvey," said Horn. "Are you?"
Murk glared for another few seconds. Then, his head sagged back to the floor, and he blew out his breath.
"I have made myself mortal for a time," said Murk, "so I may commune more directly with lesser creatures like yourselves." As he spoke, his blond hair disappeared, leaving a bald head barely covered by an oily brown comb-over. His perfectly sculpted muscles melted into flab and a bulging belly.
"So much for the new you," said McKee, who was still pinning Murk's left leg to the floor. "Now if we could just change the personality, too."
"All right, Harvey," said Horn. "Time to commune."
Waving off his team, Horn pushed forward and grabbed Murk by the front of his robe.
"Answers, Harvey. Now." Horn gave Murk a rough shake.
"Answers, yes." Murk cleared his throat and shrugged. "Don't have any."
"Of course you do." Horn shook him again. "Now cough 'em up."
"That's just it," said Murk. "I don't."
"Tell me about the planetary engines," said Horn. "Tell me about the crusade."
"You'll have to ask him."
"Him?" said Horn.
"I'd never heard of the crusade until Shamballah told you about it." Murk looked from side to side. "Where is he, anyway?"
Horn looked for Shamballah, too. The giant, striped disciple was nowhere in sight.
"He's gone, Captain," said Sanu.
"Oh, dear." Murk scowled. "I've been Murked."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said McKee.
"You might know it by a different name," said Murk. "What I mean to say is, I think I've been conned. Royally conned."
*****
Twenty-Four Years Later...
Earth Year: 2294
Prison Planet Choya
One question dominated Sark's mind as he fired his emanator rifle at the living prison.
Is Deeva dead?
Burr, the prison, had just begun to rematerialize in the shield bubble after a period of invisibility. Sark thought it likely that Burr had followed Deeva into a hyperaccelerated vibrational state.
And only Burr was returning.
I may have failed Matt Horn's great-granddaughter just as I failed Matt.
But her sacrifice may help undo that first failure.
Though Sark's emanator fire splashed harmlessly off Burr's rocky maroon hide, the living prison did not seem like his old self. In fact, Burr moved more slowly than before and listed to one side.
Meredith's neural agent is working.
But the neural agent was not Burr's only problem. Now that Burr was fully materialized, Sark saw that his craggy surface was scorched and cratered with blast damage.
From Deeva's Quintaran energy weapon, perhaps?
Suddenly, Doctor Chalice pushed her scanalyzer in front of him. "He's vulnerable," she said. "At least for now."
Sark scanned the scanalyzer's readouts. "We have a window of opportunity," he said.
"Assume it's a small one," said Chalice. "He has regenerative capabilities, doesn't he?"
Sark nodded. "Emanators on full. Follow my lead."
With that, he swung his emanator rifle to aim at the biggest scorched crater on the living prison's flank. Chalice holstered her scanalyzer, drew both emanator pistols from her belt, and opened fire on the same target.
Burr heaved to one side, aiming his massive red-and-yellow eye at Sark and Chalice. "YOU ARE NOT SO BORING AFTER ALL," he said.
Sark raised his voice over the wailing of the emanators. "Where is the girl?"
Burr did not answer the question. "YOU KNOW THAT SHAMBALLAH IS A THREAT TO THE GALAXY."
"The girl with the accelerated vibrational frequency," said Sark. "Did you kill her?"
"CAN YOU BEAR TO HAVE THE BLOOD OF BILLIONS UPON BILLIONS ON YOUR HANDS?" Burr took a lumbering step toward Sark, then stopped and wobbled in place. "YOU SHALL HAVE IT IF YOU SET SHAMBALLAH FREE."
Sark did not let up on the emanator rifle's firing stud. He stepped forward, and Chalice followed suit.
The site that they had been targeting on the prison's flank began to bulge and glow bright red.
"It has been said that the greater the risk, the greater the reward," said Sark.
"A RISK IS NOT THE SAME AS A PROMISE," said Burr.
Just then, Chalice's scanalyzer emitted a flurry of beeps and chimes. She stopped firing, holstered one emanator, and raised the scanalyzer for a look at its readouts.
"Mr. Sark!" she said. "He's changing!"
Suddenly, Burr imploded. His entire monstrous body flexed in on itself, rolling into a huge black sphere.
Then, as if he were turning inside-out, Burr exploded into a new configuration.
The rocky maroon bulk was gone. An enormous, star-shaped object floated in its place, rubbery gray flesh studded with spines and barbs and nozzles.
Sark stopped shooting and gazed up at Burr's new form. "Fascinating," he said. "I was unaware that he possessed this capability."
At that moment, Burr opened fire. Turning slowly overhead, the reshaped prison rained down spines and beams of searing energy all around Sark and Chalice.
Sark quickly scanned the pattern of fire and came to a conclusion. "We have nowhere to go. The shield wall is at our backs."
In approximately seven-point-nine-five seconds, Burr's firepower will converge on our coordinates.
And we will die.
Even without hearing Sark's calculations, Chalice instantly grasped the situation. She turned to him with wide eyes and opened her mouth to say
I already know what she will say.
But before she could get the words out, something knocked her over. Knocked both of them to the ground.
What?
Sark pushed himself up on his elbows in time to see Burr crash and explode. There were no flames, just a blinding flare of light and a shower of fluid and bits of flesh.
Sark covered his eyes with his hand until the shower died down. When he moved his hand, he saw a familiar face looking down at him.
It was Deeva. "Guess what happens when different parts of your body vibrate at different frequencies at the same time."
Sark pointed at the spot where Burr had burst apart. "That?"
Deeva nodded. "You can thank me later." She gave Sark and Chalice a hand getting to their feet. "After we meet our company, that is."
A towering figure strode toward them from the steaming debris. His velvety white fur, striped with black, was covered with clear, thick slime. As he walked, he tore organic electrodes and tubes from his body with all four of his hands.
His metallic red eyes glowed as they fixed on Sark. His purple lips curled in a smile.
Shamballah.
"Now here's a dream come true," he said with three voices at once. "Just the man I've been dying to kill for the past twenty-four years."
To be continued...?
*****
And now, a very special story featuring some very familiar characters...an entry in a nationwide contest for writers of scifi treks...
When Harvey Met Zeppy
For what must have been the hundredth time that day, Harvey Murk sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward with glee. Beaming blissfully, he clasped his hands at his chin as if he were offering up a prayer of happy gratitude.
The computer terminal on the desktop before him told the tale. Like a wonderful genie of legend, the flickering screen was providing his most cherished desire.
“Money money money,” Harvey whimpered delightedly. “So very much money!”
Reaching out with both hands, Harvey caressed the screen like the face of a lover. Running a fingertip along a row of numbers that pulsed on the display, he hooted, then leaped out of his chair to stretch.
It was all adding up. Harvey’s grand project was coming to fruition...and the payoff would be truly astronomical.
“Astronomical!" crowed Harvey, stretching his
arms high overhead. Dropping them suddenly, he planted his fists on his hips and danced a merry jig.
He was still dancing when the lean, glittering form of Parso Poncil entered the room.
“Ah, Parso!" Harvey hollered robustly, hopping a final step and bowing dramatically before the willowy figure. “So marvelous to see you, my noble friend! Please, enter and be welcome!”
Parso did not step closer, but he smiled warmly. His silvery skin glistened in the light from the glowing ceiling panels high overhead. “It is good to see you, as well, Harvey.”
Over eight feet tall, like most of his species, the Forbosian towered above the portly human. Craning his neck so he could see the being’s face, Harvey felt a familiar cramp in his shoulder muscles.
“Why were you moving quickly, Harvey?" Parso asked in his feather-soft, little-girl voice.
“Did that have something to do with digestion?”
Harvey’s friendly grin concealed an inner smirk. The Forbosians seemed to think that Harvey’s every quirk had something to do with what was to them the amazingly bizarre process of human digestion. “No, no, no, my friend. It was...a smile. A smile too big for my face.”
It was indeed. It was just the sort of smile that Harcourt Fenton Murk sported regularly these days.
He thought he was probably the happiest man in the universe, thanks to the generous and gullible Forbosians. Mostly gullible.
Wealthy beyond imagining, the Forbosians lived on a world where the streets were literally paved with gold. Venturing into space, they had learned that their wealth was not commonplace, that countless sentient beings on other planets were suffering in appalling poverty and squalor.
Compassionate beyond imagining, the Forbosians had resolved to share their wealth. To that end, they had created a charitable organization to use their ample resources to relieve the impoverished masses throughout the quadrant.
Dimwitted beyond imagining, they had appointed Harvey Murk the organization’s director.
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