Planet America s-2

by Mack Maloney

  Eyes barely slits, catching some rays from the system's spunky sun, it was Zarex Red himself.

  He was a large individual, muscular, brutish-looking, at least from this angle. He was probably 160 years old or so, no more than 170 certainly. Unlike the shaved-head-and-goatee look that was the rage throughout most of the Galaxy these days, Zarex had a head of wild and woolly dark red hair that reached past his shoulders. His face was clean shaven. He was wearing a standard space uniform that had been strategically ripped around the shoulders to emphasize his rock-hard biceps.

  He was oblivious of the two visitors. Between the legion of preening angels and the concerted effort at getting tanned, Zarex's mind seemed to be taxed to its limit. Hunter and Tomm just sort of shrugged and stepped out onto the balcony. Though they appeared to be nearly a half mile above the planet's surface, only a mild breeze was blowing past them. The view was incredible.

  Just like the girls inside the penthouse itself — indeed, just about every female they'd met so far — these new beauties flatly ignored them. In fact, they didn't even seem to be aware of their existence. Each was totally devoted to the job of comforting Zarex.

  Finally, with no little drama, Tomm cleared his throat.

  Zarex finally came to life, but just barely. He opened one of his eyes and took a look up at the priest.

  "My God," he whispered. "I'm either dead or I'm dreaming. I mean… why would I imagine a priest suddenly standing on my balcony?"

  "Because he is real," Tomm told him. "Unlike many other things around here."

  Zarex still did not move a muscle, except the ones in his left eyelid and lips. "Maybe you're a ghost…" he mused. "One that will go away as soon as I take my next sip of wine… "

  "Drink then to the honor of the Great Klaaz," Tomm told him right back. "He's the one who sent us to see you."

  Both of Zarex's eyes managed to open now.

  "My friend Klaaz sent a priest for me?" he asked with a gasp. "I'd say that is a scarier prospect than being visited by a ghost."

  Tomm looked about the balcony; so did Hunter. To his eyes, it was a cluster of naked and near-naked breasts, some slightly moist, some gleaming in the sun. Still, the beauties seemed oblivious to everything except Zarex.

  "You might find yourself dead or somewhere worse, should you ever have a power outage up here," Tomm told him in a very priestly tone.

  This comment finally brought a change in Zarex. He raised himself from the couch and got to his feet. He was an even more massive individual than Hunter had first thought.

  "Forgive me, Father," Zarex said with a slight bow. "I've been here so long, I've obviously forgotten my manners."

  Tomm made a very quick crossing motion with his right hand, ending it with a hard slap upside Zarex's head. The man winced.

  "Klaaz suspected you might be losing the battle to temptation," Pater Tomm said. "He was right, as always."

  "I prefer to think of it as fighting the good fight, Padre," Zarex replied, rubbing his afflicted cheek.

  Tomm just sniffed. "It's self-abuse," he said, not entirely priestly now. 'To the highest degree…"

  Hunter was barely paying attention to this odd conversation; his eyes were still saturated with all the gleaming, tanned, jiggling breasts. Tomm looked back at him, saw the state he was in, and threatened to slap his head, too.

  He turned back to Zarex and said, "I pray you to reveal your little secret… before my friend here explodes."

  Zarex frowned and reluctantly snapped his fingers.

  Suddenly, all the girls disappeared.

  Hunter was stunned — for about two seconds.

  Then it hit him.

  "Holo-girls?" he mumbled.

  Zarex nodded sadly. "The best…"

  Of course, Hunter thought. Now it all makes sense.

  He had met only one holo-girl in the flesh, so to speak. Or at least he didn't think he'd encountered any more; there was no way to really tell. That was the problem. Holo-girls were holographic projections of the most superior kind. They looked, felt, and acted as if they were human. And they were always perfect—always. Or at least the more expensive models were. They came packaged inside a small container not unlike a Twenty 'n Six box, just slightly more egg-shaped. Push the button, your holo-girl was there. Face, shape, hair, voice. Perfect… and ready to do anything.

  Don't like blue eyes? Push the button, they turn to brown. Don't like blondes, another push, she's a redhead or a brunette or a raven-haired beauty. Another push, her breasts begin to grow. And grow. And grow. When it seems her top is about to burst, push again, and her breasts begin to shrink, almost until they become nonexistent. Push again, a tight top becomes a simple white blouse. Push. Skintight pants became a skintight skirt. Push. The boots disappear, revealing a beautiful set of bare legs and feet.

  Push… Push… Push…

  But that was not all. The top-of-the-line holo-girls had the ability to take their suitors into the thirty-fourth dimension, a place programmed to provide endless scenarios usually involving paradise settings — all projected, of course. The top holo-girls had large memory banks, meaning the suitor could go into the Big Three-Four for days, weeks, even months, however long one could stand it. Then, with another push of the button, he would return to his starting point before his friends had taken another sip of their drinks. No time had passed at all. Invariably, the traveler would ask, "What I miss?"

  But now, as the last of Zarex's holo-girls began blinking out all over the resort, a sense of gloom descended upon the penthouse. Suddenly, things weren't as bright, the colors not as vivid. The diamonds and crystal had lost their gleam.

  It was apparent what was really going on.

  The girls in the tower. The girls in the lobby. The girls lounging around the pool. They were all fakes. Zarex was alone here.

  A long moment passed as the tidal wave of despair washed through the room. Now it really did seem like they were on a barren planet in a no-good star system with a guy who was simply hiding out. Hunter took a deep breath. It did no good. The gloom remained.

  Zarex sighed and collected the few dozen holo-eggs and stored them away in a small carrying case, his only discernible luggage.

  Then he turned to his visitors.

  "Well, you've succeeded in banishing my one and only real vice," he said dryly. "Can I at least offer you a drink before you go?"

  Without waiting for an answer, he led them over to an enormous bar, which was floating above what looked like a miniature self-contained sea, complete with rows of tiny waves and whitecaps. There were more than a hundred varieties of slow-ship wine on display above this really wet bar. Zarex reached across the tiny sea and selected a bright red bottle from the hovering rack. He poured out three healthy shots.

  They held their glasses aloft.

  "For fallen friends," all three intoned.

  They downed their drinks in one noisy, simultaneous shot. Hunter let the sweetly pungent liquid flow down his throat. Instantly, he felt his feet lift a bit off the ground again.

  Good stuff.

  Zarex poured out three more shots. He seemed to relax a little.

  "So you are friends of the Great Klaaz?" he asked with a booming voice. "Few names could break my spell."

  "A friend of his is hopefully a friend of ours," Pater Tomm said with a polite bow.

  They toasted again, this time silently. If possible, the second shot of slow-ship tasted better than the first. Hunter studied their host for a moment. For someone so huge and wild-looking, Zarex did have a dashing air about him. There was more than a hint of intelligence in his face, a bit of larceny in his steely eyes. The bubbles claimed Zarex had single-handedly charted thousands of isolated star systems and probably hundreds of thousands of planets as well. Though he didn't look the part, when he wasn't doing his weapons-selling gig, Zarex was one hell of an explorer.

  He also knew his star juice.

  "So, Father," he said, pouring out three more shots. "Are you also
here to tell me the Great Klaaz is well?"

  "Klaaz is well, and therefore so are our lives," Tomm replied properly. Then the priest nodded toward Hunter. "But actually, my friend and I have been shooting the Five-Arm for many weeks now, looking for a certain passage… "

  Zarex's eyebrows rose with amusement. "And you took a wrong turn at the last nebula?" he asked.

  Tomm shook his head. "No, we simply need directions. To a place, that… How shall I say it? Is off the beaten track."

  Zarex laughed. "My specialty, once…"

  The priest lowered his voice. "We want to find the Home Planets."

  Zarex's smile disappeared.

  "The Home Planets?" he asked with mock ignorance. "Well, then you've been on a fool's mission, Padre. They don't exist."

  Tomm sampled his third drink. "I should remind you that it is very bad luck to lie to a priest."

  Zarex took this admonition to heart somewhat, but he did not change his tack.

  "The Home Planets are things of myth and legend, Father," he said. "Stories to be told to children at bedtime."

  Zarex took a sip of his drink; they all did.

  "Besides," he continued, "why do you think / know how to get to them?"

  "Because of your reputation," Pater Tomm replied simply. "That, and the fact that Klaaz told me you would."

  Zarex looked down at the holy man and then shot back the rest of his drink. His defenses were crumbling.

  He turned toward Hunter. "Your uniform, my friend, where does it come from? I'm not familiar with it."

  "It belongs to my former employers," Hunter replied.

  Zarex studied it a bit more closely. "A deserter, eh?"

  Tomm began to say something, but Hunter raised his hand and cut him off. There was no need to avoid the truth here.

  "That's exactly what I am," Hunter said. "And in my own defense, I believe I left for honorable reasons."

  "That's what they all say," Zarex replied with a smirk.

  He poured out three more drinks.

  "And what would your business be in the Home Planets?" Zarex asked him pointedly. "If they exist, that is—"

  Tomm slammed his glass on the bar hard enough to cut Zarex off in midsentence.

  "We don't need that line again, brother," the priest said sternly. "We know they still exist."

  Zarex looked down at the priest. "Really? And how, may I ask?"

  "Because we saw their fighters in action," Hunter revealed. "On a world in the Dead Gulch System called Zazu-Zazu."

  Zarex stopped pouring another drink in midflow. He was clearly shocked by this news.

  "You saw them? When?"

  "Six weeks past now," Pater Tomm said.

  "Six weeks?" Zarex exclaimed. "My God, if you had said six years — or even sixty — I would have been surprised. But so recently? I mean, I really thought they'd all be gone by now. When I last heard of them, their ranks were nearly depleted, even then…"

  Zarex resumed filling their glasses. He shook his head.

  "The Dead Gulch System, you say? Way out there? What the hell were they doing so far from home?"

  "They were there because it was a holy place for them," Tomm said. "A place that was very important to their history, their mythology. Their whole everything. They were protecting the people who had acted as caretakers for the place. I know this because I traveled there with them. I hooked up with them at a staging planet two systems over. They needed a chaplain, I was available. They were just very tight-lipped about their planet of origin at the time."

  "But what happened to them then?" Zarex asked. "Surely these fighters could have told you the way home."

  "They're all gone," Hunter told him quietly. "Killed in battle."

  Silence in the room.

  "Every last one of them?" Zarex asked in a whisper. "Are you sure?"

  Hunter nodded. "We were there. We saw it."

  Zarex just shook his head again. He had to take a moment to collect himself. It was obvious the news had hit an emotional chord within him.

  "Poor bastards," he said finally with a tip of his glass. "Sorry for the language. Father… but if that really was the last of them, well, I'm afraid that's not a good thing for any of us. Our existence needs more people like them, not less."

  Pater Tomm took this as his cue. "So the Home Planets do exist," he said. "You know it, we know it. Now, their soldiers are gone, but those they left behind might still remain. It is these people we want to find."

  Zarex contemplated them both. "Again, may I ask why?"

  "I think I might have family among them," Hunter replied. "That's the simple answer, anyway."

  Tomm drained his drink. "So, is it time to get down to brass tacks?" he asked Zarex.

  "I'm listening, Padre," the explorer replied.

  Tomm retrieved a bag of aluminum coins from his pocket. It was their payment for a mercenary job they'd done shortly after leaving Zazu-Zazu. He held it out at arm's length, barely up to Zarex's chest.

  "We like our privacy, too," the priest told him. "So just tell us how to get there, and we leave this bag behind as insurance that the secret dies with us."

  Zarex eyed the bag, was tempted mightily, but then shook his head. "This goes beyond gratuities, father."

  The priest patted him on the arm. "We mean these people no harm, brother. They want to stay hidden; we understand that. It's only dialogue that we seek."

  "It's not as simple as that," Zarex said. "It's a very long journey just to get to the first step. And after that, it gets worse. Nearly impossible, in fact."

  He poured them all another shot of wine.

  "Believe me, I've had more than my share of such treacherous journeys, and frankly, my friends, they are not good for either heart or soul."

  He drained his drink and capped the bottle. "So, I am sorry," he said. "But there's nothing I can do for you. Please give my regards to Klaaz when you see him again."

  Suddenly, Hunter grabbed him by the wrist. "Don't move," he warned the explorer.

  Even Tomm was shocked by this sudden departure of good form.

  "Please, brother," he cautioned Hunter. "There are other ways to—"

  But Hunter wasn't listening to him. His eyes were looking all the way to the left, and his ears were perked up. It was as if he was trying to hear something from very far away.

  Zarex tried to untangle his arm, but Hunter was too strong for him.

  "Listen," Hunter told them urgently. "We have to get out of here… immediately."

  Zarex and Pater Tomm just stared back at him.

  "What did you just say?" the priest asked him.

  "I said we have to get out of this tower right now!"

  But Zarex wouldn't budge. "What's got into you, man?" he roared at Hunter.

  'Trust me," Hunter said, head still cocked skyward. "Something very bad is coming this way."

  Pater Tomm needed no prodding; he was already convinced.

  "Mr. Hunter has a way about these things," the priest said to Zarex. "We must go right now!"

  Zarex did not argue any further. He gathered most of his holo-eggs and…

  Flash!

  They popped out a moment later, standing behind a huge boulder about a half mile from the resort's main gate. Zarex and Tomm were looking highly distressed and staring at Hunter, as if to ask him: Why?

  They would know the answer in just a few seconds.

  The missile had entered the BDG star system just three minutes before, and only an instant before Hunter's elevated senses detected it. As soon as he felt it, though, there was never any doubt where the missile was headed. How could he detect a missile from so far away with just his instincts? He didn't know. As Pater Tomm said, he just had a way with these things.

  It came out of the blue sky with an ungodly roar, heading right at the resort's highest tower. The missile was a LR/ SDBM — a long-range space-deployed bombardment missile. It was an almost antique weapon closer in to the Ball, but still a formidable piece of hard
ware out here on the Fringe.

  Two hundred feet long, with a squat fuselage and a triangular, almost arrowlike warhead on its tip, it was a weapon used centuries before to conduct massive bombardment of entire planets; indeed, a barrage of these missiles, hitting key strategic areas in unrelenting attack, could deplete a planet's global defenses in a matter of hours, softening it up for invasion from space.

  But the real beauty of the LR/SDBM was its tactical capability. The missile could be programmed to seek out one particular spaceship or even one particular individual and then be set loose in space for days, months, years, even centuries, searching for its prey and reviving to active mode once it had been acquired.

  Therefore it could take out whole populations in some cases— or just one man.

  It was apparent that in this case, the missile had been looking for just one man.

  It hit the largest tower an instant later, impacting on the top floor, which had been occupied just minutes before by Zarex and his electronic entourage. The resulting explosion was so spectacular, it set off a minor quake beneath their feet. The three of them stared in astonishment as the tall tower was vaporized, and the remains of the missile plunged deep into the mountain behind the resort, driving an enormous hole into the layers of solid rock.

  It took nearly a minute for all the echoes of the blast to finally fade away. Through it all, Zarex was speechless.

  "It must be the Bad Moon Knights again," he finally mumbled. "I mean, it has to be them. Every once in a while they take a shot at me — over some past disagreements. But an LS/ SDBM? That's a bit much."

  Zarex turned back to Hunter and Pater Tomm. Things had changed.

  "Well, it now appears that I owe you my life, and I need a new place to relocate," he said. "So, I'll point you in the right direction of the Home Planets, provided just one thing…"

  "What's that?" Tomm asked. "Our bag of money?"

  "No," Zarex said. "I want to come with you on the journey. Me and a friend of mine…"

  "One of those holo-girls, you mean?"

  "Hardly, Father," Zarex replied.

  He reached into his case and took out not a holo-egg but a Twenty 'n Six box. After checking out the surrounding terrain, he activated the intradimensional device. The usual cloud of green mist appeared, and after a flash of light, they found a huge robot standing in front of them. It was at least ten feet tall.