The Fourth Empire s-3

by Mack Maloney

  But just as the other batteries had, they saw the swarm of bright streaks passing through this first fusillade with some ease, falling swiftly through the atmosphere at high speed and heading right for them. The second fusillade went out just a few moments later. Again, with barrels readjusted and bearings reset, the sky lit up like day from the combined barrage. But still the streaks of light kept falling through what would have seemed to be an impenetrable barrier of blaster power.

  And now these things, whatever they were, had passed below 60,000 feet and were coming on fast. The commander of the batteries on top of the Rise quickly realized that as brilliant as Joxx's anti-aircraft system might have been, it was clear that there were so many of these falling objects and therefore so many possible targets, it was overloading the planetwide system on a massive scale, throwing it in pandemonium. It was also clear by now that these things weren't invasion shuttles. They were much smaller and moving way too quickly.

  So the base commander yanked his system off-line and ordered the third barrage be fired manually, this one en-gaging the array of Master Blasters he had at his disposal. The fusillade was so powerful, the heat immediately ignited hundreds of fires in the thick jungles surrounding the installation. The Master Blasters were sending up rivers of highly charged electrical bolts; indeed, the whole sky was covered with them. Still, the majority of mysterious objects made it through all this as well. The weapons operators on the ground — condemned inmates all of them — just couldn't believe what they were seeing. How could anything get through such a thick curtain of death rays?

  For many, those were the last thoughts they ever had.

  The mystery objects came crashing down on them just ten seconds later.

  Some of those on hand at first believed the objects were meteorites, as improbable as that might be.

  They came down at incredibly high speed, trailing long red and green tails that exploded in a shower of deadly sparks whenever they hit. And they hit hard. The kinetic energy of these things was tremendous. All kinds of structures around the plateau base — towers, bunkers, vehicles, as well as the ring of blaster emplacements themselves— began to disappear in a cloud of dust and rock as the mysterious missiles came down. Most of the base was destroyed in seconds.

  Those inmates caught out in the open never knew what hit them. Hundreds of direct hits resulted in quick explosions of bloody fog, then little else. Those under cover were astonished by what they saw next. Through the smoke and gristle, they realized that these things weren't missiles or meteorites or some kind of radically new bombardment weapon.

  They were robots.

  In the next minute, thousands of huge red and black battle robots rained down upon the hapless defenders at the Rise. In a way, the robots were like bombardment weapons as just one hitting the ground could cause massive amounts of damage.

  But this was not the most astounding feature of the bi-zarre aerial attack. As the stunned defenders watched each robot annihilate itself on impact, the hundreds of its broken pieces would lie still on the ground for only a few moments before, like magic, they started converging on themselves. Even the pieces of debris following the blaster hits high up in the sky were coalescing once they came down. Gathering together in what seemed a defiance of all nature, the torn and shredded robot segments started a slow but steady process of reassembly.

  Incredibly, in just a matter of seconds, a robot would rebuild itself, arms, legs, torso, and head all connecting together with a series of clicks and clacks. Then, with a flash of power from God knows where, the robot would suddenly surge back to life, rising to its full height of nine feet tall.

  At that point, little rocket engines in the soles of its boots would ignite, and the robot would lift off again, quickly disappearing high into the night sky from whence it came.

  It was like this all around the planet.

  Reports from every weapons post echoed the confusion being caused by the incomprehensible robot-fall.

  There was chaos inside the large room atop the sky needle tower as well. The interconnected anti-aircraft system had quickly overloaded, had tried to recover, only to overload again. It finally crashed for good. The shutdown was so intense, the control panel in front of Joxx exploded, covering him in a storm of sparks, singeing his hair, his face, his hands. Partially blinded, he snapped his fingers, and a sea of deatomizing foam appeared, emptying on top of the control panel, dissolving it, viz screens and all.

  Joxx recovered quickly and immediately began to recreate a new firing system with his electron torch. All the while, he was yelling commands to his army of technicians, who were trying their best to follow his wishes while at the same time stumbling around in the top floor of the tower, as the structure continued to sway even more violently.

  Joxx was about halfway to building a new, temporary firing system when another piece of the sky fell on his head.

  It came in the guise of an old-style viz screen that suddenly popped into view right in front of him. After a burst of static, Joxx found himself looking at the very worried face of the man he recognized as commander of the SG supply base over on TransWorld 800.

  The man could barely speak. In the background, a small war was going on.

  "They're here!" the officer finally screamed.

  "Who is?" Joxx roared back at him.

  "The invaders!" the man cried, ducking under his console as a huge explosion went off just outside his bunker. "They hit here instead! And they are stealing all of our cargo 'crashers!"

  A wave of bewilderment ripped through the needle-top room. Everyone in the embattled headquarters turned to look at Joxx. The SG officer was standing perfectly still, staring back at the viz screen showing the events on Trans World 800, absolute astonishment on his face.

  "They attacked… TransWorld?" he was finally able to stammer. "How?"

  Another huge explosion rocked the tower. Robots continued falling on the city below.

  "They were just suddenly here!" the man was yelling back at Joxx. "They blinked in, and the next thing we knew, their troops were swarming all over us!"

  "How many ships do they have?" Joxx screamed back at the man. This made no sense. "How many dozens?"

  The TW800 officer's face screwed up in confusion.

  "Sir, we only saw six ships," he said. "And about a division of troops in all…"

  That's when everything just stopped.

  "Just six ships?" Joxx mumbled. "Just one division of troops?"

  "Yes, sir," came the troubled reply. "Plus some kind of a secret weapon that can—"

  Then the transmission went dead.

  Joxx became immobile. He literally couldn't move. He could barely breathe. Six ships? How could that be? Why would the enemy attack anything with only six ships? Where was the rest of the invaders' hundred-ship fleet, its two million soldiers?

  Unless… Unless they never existed in the first place.

  That's when Joxx pulled out his electric sword. It was suddenly very clear to him what had happened here. He'd been fooled. Misled. Misdirected about everything.

  By one man. The ion mover.

  That bastard…

  Joxx streaked out of the room and disappeared down the transport tube, falling the three miles in just a matter of seconds.

  He emerged from the bottom door and charged down the dark corridor, his hair ragged and flowing, his eyes absolutely mad.

  All guards had long since abandoned this dungeon. No matter to Joxx. He reached the cell door and sliced it in two with one stroke of the glowing sword. He stepped inside, ready to do the same thing to the ion mover.

  But he stopped in his tracks. The cell was empty.

  The ion mover nowhere to be seen.

  Outside, the fireball streaked by again.

  A moment later, the swaying three-mile-high tower at Needle City began to collapse.

  16

  Earth, Special Number One

  Princess Xara awoke with a start.

  It was no
t a dream that roused her; she rarely had dreams anymore. Someone was pounding on her bedroom door. This was unusual. No one ever knocked around the Palace. There really was no need to.

  The noise had startled her awake, but she recovered quickly. She pictured the door's lock in her mind and whispered the word, "Open." The latch snapped free. That's all it took. The big door swung wide to reveal a pair of enormous Palace Guards standing in the dark hallway. They looked very uncomfortable.

  "Deepest pardons, my princess," one said with a deep bow. "But this person insisted that he speak with you immediately."

  A man in a black cape and floppy black hat glided into place between the two guards. His clothes were soaking wet. Xara sniffed the air and detected the telltale sign of damp velveeta. From this, she knew the man was a spy.

  The guards vanished. Xara waved the man in.

  She had seen him before, lurking on the periphery of the Imperial Court, usually slipping in or out by a side door. He was a close confidant of her mother. But Xara had never had a conversation with him, and she don't know his name.

  Why did her want to see her?

  He, too, bowed deeply. "A million apologies, my princess. But I thought this was so urgent — and the news I bear so critical — rash methods had to be employed."

  Xara slipped off her hovering bed and ordered it into the sixth dimension. It disappeared in an instant. Her room was plain, with lots of ancient woodwork, just a few chairs, and a small couch. An open window just above her bed place revealed a small slice of the morning sky above Special Number One. It was just a few minutes before sunrise. A slight mist had engulfed the floating city.

  Xara was wearing her summer nightgown, a short, white, frilly piece of cloth. Her hair was let down, a beautiful rarity. She was barefoot.

  Spies excelled at being inconspicuous: the art of knowing when not to stare. This spy was one of the most highly regarded in the entire Galaxy, and yet even he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was light-years ahead of the other beautiful yet ordinary Specials. And she had what most of them didn't: a certain sweetness. It was in her eyes, in her smile. It made her all that more enticing.

  The spy had to shake his head to clear away such thoughts. Xara could read minds. He didn't want to be caught thinking such lecherous things.

  She moved over to the couch and sat down.

  "Well? What is it?" she asked him simply.

  He took several steps forward and stopped about five feet in front of her. The large oak door closed behind him.

  "My lady, some startling news from the Fringe," he began. "Here on Earth, this information is known only by a few — at least for the moment. May I count on your confidence?"

  She nodded. "Yes, of course."

  He lowered his voice. He knew most rooms in the Palace were bugged.

  "You are aware of the troubles out on the Two Arm?" he asked her.

  She nodded again. Mysterious soldiers were coming down the second swirl, catching the Empire by surprise amid the Earth Race celebrations. Her cousin Joxx had or-ganized the defense of a very strategic planet. A rescue force was on the way.

  The spy took a deep, troubled breath. "My lady, the defense of the planet Megiddo did not go well. Your cousin Joxx is dead. The invaders have not been stopped."

  Xara began to say something, but the spy just kept on talking. "Even worse, the invaders attacked a cargo station about forty light-years from Megiddo — a complete surprise. They stole six cargo 'crasher spaceships. Now, those 'crashers are not armed at all. In fact, they are simply huge enclosed cargo bays with a prop core on the back and a cockpit up front. However they can travel in Supertime. And there are indications the invaders will arm them and use them in an unconventional manner. It is clear now that capturing these ships had been the invaders' intention all along."

  Xara just shook her head. This was disturbing news, but why was the spy telling her? And not her father? Or the top military commanders?

  He was coming to that.

  "I have in my possession an image that will answer your question," he said. It was his turn to read minds.

  He used his right hand to carve a square out of open space. It soon turned into a viz screen. On it, a slightly fuzzy sequence showing the invaders' attack on Trans-World 800 appeared. Six blue and chrome starships could be seen rocketing in and out of the action.

  The spy froze the image and pointed to one of the attacking starships. There was an emblem emblazoned across its fuselage up near the cockpit. It was a red, white, and blue square, with thirteen stripes and fifty stars.

  "That flag?" he asked her. "You're familiar with it?"

  Xara's hand went to her lips. It was the same flag that Hawk Hunter always kept in his pocket.

  Her eyes lit up. "Oh my God. He's alive?"

  The spy nodded. "We believe he is — and I thought it was important for you to know."

  Xara unintentionally rose about eight inches off the couch before settling back down again. She couldn't help it — she was that happy.

  But right away, dark truths came flooding in. "He's the one attacking the Empire?"

  The spy nodded slowly. "He and his friends: the explorers, Erx and Berx; the hero, Calandrx. Just where Hunter's been since he deserted the X-Forces is a matter of conjecture, though I know in the basement of the Solar Guards headquarters, there have been many — how shall I say it? — theories about his whereabouts. But it's very clear at the moment where he is. Not so clear is what he's doing — or why."

  Xara could just barely see the spy's eyes hidden in the shadow of his turned-down hat. But it seemed as if they were two laser beams shooting out at her now.

  She had a deep secret to tell. She was the one who sent Hunter out to the Fringe in the first place, where he quickly disappeared. And worse, she sent Erx, Berx, and Calandrx out to find him — and they'd been swallowed up by the stars as well.

  But the spy was kind. When she started to speak, he simply raised his hand and put his fingers to his lips.

  "There is no need, princess," he told her. "I already know your tale. The reasons don't even concern me. What is important now is that I have shared this information with you. Because the really bad news is still to come."

  Xara braced herself.

  "Hunter and his friends have pulled off a major coup here," the spy began. "And I can predict with ease that this place — the Palace, the city below, the Galaxy itself! — will never be the same, once word of this gets out. We have fought space pirates, tax criminals, rogue mercenaries, and many other kinds of space trash out on the Fringe for five hundred years. There have been major wars and innumerable smaller ones. But never has anyone attacked the Empire itself. This is a big moment. A historic moment. I think you and I should work toward the common goal of making sure it does not turn into a disastrous moment."

  Xara was nearly beyond words. "What do you mean?"

  "First things first," he said. "That these invaders have taken over six cargo 'crashers is already known to the top men of the Solar Guards. And they have already devised a countermeasure. Apparently, as a solution should any of their vessels fall into unwanted hands, the SG planted a number of tiny sensors in all their ships, hidden among the power tubes and bubblers. When activated, these sensors become like beacons, you might say. They will allow a special antispace rocket to home in on them very quickly and with great stealth, while still in Supertime. In case of mutiny, or a commander gone mad, or maybe just a way to eliminate a crew that had seen too much, such a ship would be easy to destroy. A sort of fratricide theory really, as only Empire ships can achieve Supertime. And so typically paranoid of the SG. But now, in light of events, somewhat brilliant.

  "The Rapid Engagement Fleet is heading for the trouble zone. They will soon be sent a secure message string from Black Rock, telling them that their mission has now changed. They will now hunt down the stolen 'crashers. The message will also contain the information they need to replicate the precise weapon that will home in on the
sensors buried inside the stolen ships. Once the REF assembles what's required, they will find those six cargo ships and utterly destroy them. Your friends will not have a chance. In fact, without help, they will never even know what hit them."

  He looked up at Xara. She was in tears.

  "You mean Hunter's come back to life," she sniffed, "only to get killed again?"

  The spy could only shrug. "An unanswerable question, my princess…"

  Xara wiped her eyes. If someone could actually look more beautiful while crying, it was her.

  "War, rivalries, empires! I don't care about any of it, you know," she whispered. "I hate the politics, the intrigue, the endless dramas that everyone within the realm seems so intent on playing. I know these things are fueled by nothing more than greed and the thirst for power, no more than right here in the Palace itself. And I don't care about any of it! All I care about is Hunter. I want him safe. I want him alive."

  She wiped away another tear. "But what choice is this? If I try to help him, I defy not only my family but the Empire itself. If I do nothing, Hunter and his friends will surely be killed-and whatever he found out there, whatever spurred him to take on the Empire in the first place, will be lost, too."

  The spy said, "There may be a way we can prevent both things. But it is a journey you will have to undertake, my princess. I can guide you. But it will be up to you to see it through…."

  Her face brightened again. The room seemed to lighten up as well. "I'll do anything," she said.

  The spy pulled his hat further down around his eyes. "You might just have to," he said. "But we must leave immediately. There is something at my hideout that I must show you, explain to you. If you agree that this is the way to go, we can proceed. But I must warn you, time is our biggest enemy now."

  She looked at him strangely.

  "We know my reasons for doing this," she said to him. "I'm trying to save Hunter. But what is your motive? Why would you want to help these invaders? It borders on treason."