The Only Game in the Galaxy

by Paul Collins

  She, Arvakur and the Envoy split up. From below came the screeching of many voices.

  ‘How did you find me?’

  Deema told Mirella about the data package from the RIM commander; how he’d opened the quantum capsule, and how Anneke had put it all together.

  ‘Max is here, too.’

  Mirella stared, pressing a hand to her chest. ‘Max is alive?’

  Deema nodded. ‘But he’s up there – he’s the one attacking the Fortress.’

  Mirella looked puzzled, but somehow she accepted the child’s accusation. Perhaps she had seen too many slaves, and the abuse they had lived with for years. But her eyes glistened. ‘He was such a sweet boy,’ she murmured.

  Suddenly the door crashed open and three Omegans loped into the room. They howled when they saw the two humans, and charged. But they weren’t fast enough.

  Something blurred into the room. Cold metal flashed, and the Omegans were dead.

  Mirella, gasping, stared at the strange, expressionless alien who stood there, regarding them.

  ‘Please come with me,’ it said. ‘You are not safe. Anneke is nearby.’

  A few minutes later they were on the rooftop. Anneke hugged Deema, scolded her for running away, then hugged her again. Mirella put her arms around both of them, unable to speak.

  Fat Fraddo made a noise of disgust in his throat. ‘Dey’s here,’ he said, backing away from the parapet as a team of military-clad men and women vaulted into view, having scaled the outside of the consulate.

  Last to appear was Maximus.

  Anneke shook her head. ‘Thought you were dead.’

  ‘Somebody wanted it that way.’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ said Anneke. ‘You can thank Esprin.’

  Maximus shook his head slowly. ‘You can never tell,’ he said. He looked over at Deema, and the woman holding her. A shadow crossed his face.

  Mirella took a step forward, but Anneke restrained her. ‘Max?’ Mirella said. ‘Maxie?’

  Black’s jaw tightened. ‘Maximus, if you please.’

  ‘Maxie – I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry – I couldn’t stop them … there were too many …’

  ‘Did you try?’ Maximus’ voice was high-pitched, harsh.

  Mirella raised her tunic, revealing an old blaster wound above her right hip. ‘By the time I woke up, you were gone. I didn’t know where they’d taken you.’

  There was a long, strained silence.

  Anneke broke it. ‘We can end this, Black. We can all go home – pick up the pieces …’

  Maximus looked at her. ‘Some things can’t be put back together.’

  Anneke said nothing.

  ‘But there is one thing we can end once and for all.’ Drawing a metal knife he stepped forward. Anneke sighed, taking the knife offered by the Envoy. Maximus’ eyes flicked to the alien.

  ‘You too, huh? Well, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Let’s settle this now,’ said Anneke.

  ‘NO!’ screamed Deema, but Mirella held her tightly in her arms.

  ‘Needs must, whatever that means,’ Maximus said, but he didn’t look at Deema as he said it.

  ‘You better hurry,’ said Fat Fraddo, peering over the parapet. ‘Them critters are gettin’ us surrounded.’

  They didn’t waste any time, coming together like attack dogs: striking, parrying, blocking, thrusting. Lightning-fast attacks were parried by counter moves just as blurringly swift. Maximus had become a machine again, regaining his edge. Anneke felt at a disadvantage – she didn’t want to fight him.

  Black, she knew, sensed this. A thin smile appeared on his face.

  Around them shouts rose. The humans backed into a tight circle with Anneke and Maximus at the centre, the latter oblivious to the horde of Omegans scaling the walls and leaping onto the rooftop. Blasters sizzled, blades flashed. The air filled with the smell of burnt flesh and the cries of the wounded and dying.

  Maximus was unstoppable.

  He launched blow after blow, like a rapid-fire machine: thrust, lunge, cut, stab, thrust again, block, thrust, lunge. Anneke staggered back under the assault, seeking to weave a defensive shield, but Maximus found an opening. Following through, he sliced a tendon in her right arm, rendering it useless.

  Anneke shifted the blade, fighting left-handed, upsetting his rhythm for a few seconds and gaining the advantage. But the wound in her right arm was bleeding too much. She weakened, her responses microseconds too slow.

  Maximus feinted, stabbed, feinted again. Anneke stumbled, her brain sluggish. She fell to her knees, her knife skittering away across the rooftop. Maximus stepped in for the kill.

  Deema wriggled from her mother’s clasp and threw herself between her brother and friend.

  Maximus’ knife sliced open the girl’s left hand before he could abort the thrust.

  Deema cried out, hugging her hand to her chest, while Maximus towered over her, breathing heavily.

  ‘We can’t hold the rooftop!’ Arvakur shouted. ‘We have to go!’

  Maximus stepped back, flinging his knife away.

  The Envoy bent down and whispered in Deema’s ear and suddenly she was moving, ducking and darting through the throng of humans, towards the Omegans.

  Maximus surged after her, pushing people aside. Anneke somehow managed to gather enough strength to follow him.

  Ahead of them, in a clear space that had opened up in the midst of the battle, Deema stepped out in front of the Omegans. The creatures turned, ready to pounce.

  Anneke screamed, but she wasn’t close enough.

  Deema flung out her bleeding hand. Dark red blood arced through the air, spattering the faces of the nearest creatures, who shrieked and retreated, clawing at their eyes. Anneke realised they were blinded, like the victims of the Envoy’s strange weapon had been.

  One of Maximus’ men raised his blaster to shoot Anneke.

  ‘Stop!’ Maximus shouted.

  Anneke sidestepped instinctively, then straightened. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Look,’ said Arvakur. ‘It’s spreading …’

  He was right. Whatever had happened to the Omegans touched by Deema’s blood was leaping from Omegan to Omegan. In no time at all, all those on the rooftop were crying piteously, clutching their faces and sinking to their knees.

  ‘They’re reverting,’ said Maximus. ‘Deema’s blood is acting like a catalyst.’

  ‘Deema is il kedra,’ said the Envoy. ‘She is the One. Her blood redeems.’

  Maximus stared, snarling. ‘No – I’m the One! You said so!’

  ‘I was wrong,’ said the alien.

  An airship hove into view, dropping towards the rooftop. The Omegans made no effort to stop the humans from boarding. From the parapet Anneke saw a vast horde of Omegans surging towards the consulate building, as if compelled. She didn’t know if it was the leftover traces of the Sentinels, or Deema’s catalytic blood, but on they came, exchanging honking noises, plaintive and chilling.

  The bulk of the Omegans were, however, still unchanged, and dangerous.

  The airship hovered, its propulsers sweeping detritus into a dust storm.

  ‘Come with us,’ Anneke called to Maximus and his men. Some of the assault team looked questioningly at Maximus, awaiting his orders. When he nodded they scrambled aboard.

  Maximus, however, stubbornly stood his ground. ‘I don’t need your help.’

  ‘Max!’ Mirella screamed, tightening her grip on her struggling, hysterical daughter. ‘Come with us! Please!’

  Maximus hesitated, staring at his mother and sister, his face unreadable. Then he slowly shook his head, and led his remaining men over the parapet and down to the street.

  Deema struggled to break free once more, desperate to run after her new-found brother.

  Mirella held her firmly, pulling her close. ‘It’s no use,’ she whispered, her shoulders slumping.

  ‘Go! Go! Go!’ Anneke ordered, forcing Mirella and Deema up the boarding ramp. They barely made
it aboard before the ramp slid shut and the airlock closed.

  Perilously close to its weight limit, the airship rose sluggishly. For a moment, all on board experienced the horror of not knowing whether the ship would make it into the air.

  Perhaps, thought Anneke, Black knew we were overloaded.

  As the airship noisily turned and headed for the Fortress, Anneke saw Maximus’ party encircled by howling Omegans. The Quesadans were quickly overwhelmed, disappearing beneath the tumble of bodies.

  Cradling her sobbing daughter in her lap, Mirella did not see Maximus fall, nor that he made no attempt to defend himself.

  THE Battle of Se’atma Minor, as it came to be called, was over by sunset. With the devastation caused to the orbital fleet by Esprin, the reversion of the Omegans to human (and bewildered) form, and with the death – or disappearance – of Maximus Black, the Quesadan Empire formally conceded the dispute, and withdrew from the field.

  In the days that followed, the dead and wounded were tallied. There was much sadness to endure. Herik was lost, slain in the plaza that bore his name. And Arvakur, of all people, spoke at his funeral, weeping, to honour his boyhood hero.

  A statue was erected, not far from Herik Plaza. On the plinth stood the likeness of a short plump youth with a lick of hair falling in his eyes and a wide grin on his face. Known forever more as the man who turned the tide of battle, Esprin Harbage gazed out across the city he’d helped to save.

  The ever-mysterious Envoy had not boarded the airship. He had simply disappeared. Anneke last saw him peering intently at Deema as Mirella was hurrying her up the ramp. It was a proprietary observation, Anneke felt, worthy of the One who was il kedra, the saviour of the universe. Although she later persuaded herself into believing she’d imagined that. One thing she did know, however, was that Deema was special. Just how special, only time would tell.

  As for Anneke’s immediate future – she finally got that long-awaited coffee with her handsome young captain.