Battle at Zero Point s-4

by Mack Maloney

  The two hesitated. They were loath to do her any favors, considering the actions of her past. But they had no choice. They were messengers — and if it was news they were delivering, then it had to be both the good with the bad.

  "Your daughter is safe," Calandrx told her simply. "And on that you can be sure, because it is impossible for us lie—"

  "More or less," Tomm added hastily.

  The Empress just stared back at them, stunned by the words. Her face betrayed tremendous relief.

  Her tears returned.

  "But where is she?" she said instead. "You must tell me!"

  "She is safe," Calandrx repeated. "And if you do your part, you might see her again."

  "But when?" the Empress cried. "And how?" The two never replied. They simply disappeared as quickly as they came. And at this point, the Empress really believed she was either asleep or going insane. Because just before the pair blinked out, she could have sworn that both had sprouted wings.

  13

  The planet mas well-named: Sleepy Time 9.

  It was in a binary star system which also bore the fitting appellation of Two Over Easy. This system was located on the near side of the Ball, meaning it was a relatively short ride from Earth. There were two dozen planets here, all of them devoted to some kind of easy living. Retirement worlds, superspas and resorts, or simply pastoral settlements, many of the planets in Two Over Easy were so ordinary they didn't have names. Some were just referred to as Second Out, Third Out, or Fourth One In.

  Sleepy Time 9 was a jewel of sorts in this somnolent part of space. Unlike the others, it was a retreat planet for the very well-heeled and — connected, including many retired Space Forces officers. The city of Pillows was its capital. It was built around a vast three-level artificial lake whose shorelines were crowded with palatial resort homes, some towering, some just one story high but sprawling over many acres. The three-tiered lake also featured several spectacular waterfalls, and it was by one of these that a grand six-level house stood. It was called Castillox Farms, and was a magnificent design of soaring angles, internal water springs, and miles of superglass windowing.

  The resident of this house was not a retired military officer, at least not yet. He was once the most famous Starcrasher commanders in the entire Space Forces, indeed; he'd been in line to become supreme commander of the entire SF someday. His combat record was superb. Whether it was hunting down space pirates, chasing outlaw space meres, or invading troublesome planets, in close to one hundred years of imperial service, he'd never lost a battle.

  His name was Zapp Multx, and he was slowly dying — of boredom.

  Multx was an impressive, charismatic character, with a big, muscular body, bald head, and a long, thin goatee. His home was filled with innumerable aluminum and gold-leaf medals, jeweled swords, battle helmets, and specialized dress uniforms — the typical clutter of a space hero. His ship, the BonoVox, was nearly as famous as he. In his heyday, Multx and his exceptional crew were frequently called on to get other SF battle groups out of trouble. On many occasions, Multx was able to move his ship over vast distances in impossibly short periods of time, always arriving, right on cue, to save the day.

  The BonoVox was flying somewhere around the inner galaxy these days. Multx didn't even know where it was exactly. The Ball was so peaceful, he was sure his executive officers were simply out joyriding, killing time while the crew grew fat and lazy. The ship hadn't visited Sleepy Time 9 in more than a year. In fact, six months had passed since he'd heard anything from the Bono at all. It was as if his heart had been ripped out and taken away from him. He missed being on her that much.

  So why was someone of his stature out here, wasting away?

  It had all started two years before. Multx and his men had just completed a successful attack on an enemy planet called Vines 7 and were rushing back to Earth to accept the Emperor's blessings. Flying along in Supertime, a pirate ship suddenly materialized parallel to Multx's great vessel and started firing on it. Before anyone on the BonoVox could react, the pirate ship began dispensing troops. They were carrying heavy weapons and cutting tools, intent on slicing their way through the hull of the proud SF warship.

  Such a thing had never happened before. First of all, the pirate vessel — it was a so-called Blaekship, flown by the notorious Blackship pirates — should not have been in Supertime. Only Empire ships had such capability. Second, no pirate commander would be so foolish as to attack an Empire Starcrasher; the huge warships usually outgunned their pirate adversaries by a factor of one hundred-to-one or more.

  Yet that's exactly what occurred.

  It was only that an incredibly courageous passenger being carried to Earth by Multx had the gumption to steal an armed shuttle, fly it outside the BonoVox, attack the Blackship, and wound it mortally that the attack stopped and the pirate vessel disappeared.

  The name of that passenger: Hawk Hunter.

  That Hunter went on to win the Earth Race and notoriety across the entire Galaxy was old news by now. Not so well-known was the SF Command's decision that someone had to take the blame for the bizarre incident. To this day no one could explain how the Blackship got into Supertime or how it had come so close to actually capturing the BonoVox. But the entire affair was an embarrassment to the SF, and a fall guy was needed. Multx fit the bill. The SF Command sent his ship on an open-ended patrol of the Ball, a place where no shot had been fired in anger in four centuries, in effect forcing him into preretirement. Giving him this grand house on Sleepy Time 9 only added insult to injury. It was a magnificent structure, but its surroundings were peaceful to the point of nausea, at least to Multx. This was a place where old SF officers went to die — and he knew it.

  All this was hell for a person like him. He was soldier, from a long line of soldiers. And he was loyal.

  He believed so strongly in the Empire that, as a younger man, he'd had O'Nay's face tattooed on his forearm. Being away from the battle, being denied the opportunity to defend the realm really was like death for him.

  A very slow death.

  Multx sat now in his grand room, the one that overlooked the waterfall and offered a view of all three levels of the lake. It was still early morning, but he was already into his second bottle of slow-ship wine.

  Though he'd hardly been a teetotaler before his banishment to the Ball, he was a heavy drinker now. His cellars were filled with rare vintages of the popular star juice. But a year of chronic imbibing had done nothing to raise his spirits; actually, the opposite was true. In the past twelve months, he'd become a most melancholy man.

  His work had always been his mistress. He was without a wife and already bored with the few eligible women of the dull little planet. He couldn't even dream properly anymore. During the previous night he'd imagined a bright light hovering above the skylight over his bedroom canopy. This light grew so bright, he'd been unable to open his eyes for several minutes. What he was able to see looked like a string of slowly developing explosions, brilliant in red, but also in white and blue. When it all finally went away, Multx was left to lie in his sweaty bed, fully awake, to wonder what had happened. A flashback from some long-ago victory of his? Another catastrophe in the making in outer space? Or maybe a host of goblins had arrived to finally take him away. In any case, he never did get back to sleep. When the planet's prime sun rose, he was up with it, drinking his breakfast of wine. By the time the second sun rose, he was close to finishing his second bottle.

  He'd heard about the battles between the SG and SF, of course. Everyone in the Galaxy had by now.

  They did not surprise him much. Multx had had his own run-ins with the Solar Guards, and he knew their leadership to be both deceitful and deceptive. Like many in the SF, he believed the Empire would have been better off without the junior service. But all this just made his forced retirement even worse. Had the incident with the Blackship never happened, he would have been right in the thick of this internecine conflict. And at that moment he would have gi
ven just about anything, done just about anything, to be back in the fight again. Instead, he was here, looking out on an artificial lake with an artificial waterfall, early morning suns glistening off both, trying to pull the cork out of his third bottle of slow-ship wine.

  It was strange then that just as the bottle's stopper finally came loose, he looked up to see two men standing right in front of him.

  Instinct alone made Multx's hand go to his belt, as if there were a ray gun there. But then he stopped.

  He recognized these men.

  In fact, they were two very old friends of his. Their names were Erx and Berx.

  Multx was astonished to see them — and not just because they were both wanted men or that two years had passed since they'd last laid eyes on each other. It was also the manner by which they'd appeared. So quickly, so silently. They hadn't beamed in from another location. There was always a telltale flash and sizzling sound to presage such subatomic events. And it wasn't a transdimensional transfer; he would have noticed that, too. It seemed strange, but to Multx it was almost as if they'd been there all along, and he was now just seeing them.

  "By the stars!" he finally managed to gasp. "Is it really you two?"

  Neither man replied; both bowed deeply instead.

  Multx studied them more closely now. They both looked so… odd. They had a strange glow around them. And they appeared to be much younger, much leaner, much more muscular than the last time he'd seen them.

  Multx finally blurted out, "What has happened to you?"

  "We've changed," Berx said solemnly, adding, "but perhaps for the better."

  "But why are you here, brothers?" he asked them. "You have been fugitives for more than a year. By rights, I should have you arrested. Or I could be arrested just by being here with you."

  "That won't happen, my brother," Erx told him. "No one will ever know of this conversation. As long as our friendship has been, you can count on that."

  "We are here because we need you to do something for us," Berx said.

  "You mean you need my help?"

  "In a way, yes," Berx said.

  Multx replied, "But I cannot help you. You are wanted men. Plus, who knows what hijinks you've been up to since we last met."

  "We bear only the truth, brother," Erx said. "We cannot bear anything else."

  "Please," Berx said. "Just listen to us…"

  Multx hesitated a moment, but finally relented. "Only because our friendship is older than the stars," he said.

  The two visitors proceeded to tell him everything that had happened to them since they last saw him.

  The story of the Home Planets. The invasion of the Two Arm. How Hawk Hunter learned about the deceit that had created the foundation of the Second and Fourth Empires. They also told how they had joined Hunter in his quest to topple O'Nay's Empire. Multx sat speechless as he listened to the fantastic tales.

  At the end, he leaned forward in his hovering chair. He was obviously more confused than before.

  "My brothers," he said, "in all my years, I have never heard of such things. I am certain that you believe them. But is it wise to align yourselves with Hawk Hunter in these uncertain times? I know you are close to him. You were the ones who plucked him off that backward planet Fools 6 in the first place, after he saved your lives. And don't get me wrong. I have no problem with him, either. He saved my ship and my crew, too. But my brothers, the man is a cosmic oddity. How can we be certain that what he is advocating is anything more than what goes through that crafty mind of his? He probably has designs on the Empire himself!"

  Erx told Multx sternly, "The greatest charlatan in the universe would not have endured what Hunter has, just to pull off some grand joke. He has put his own life on the line many times since we've known him. He has a passion than burns brighter than a nova. Look at the proof: he has more than half the Galaxy looking for him, yet he started an invasion of the Empire. So true he is to his cause—"

  "See, my brothers? You admit he is a criminal," Multx cut in.

  "He is a rebel," Berx corrected him. "And these days, there is a difference."

  Multx drank more wine. His round face screwed up in disgust. "Those horrible beings of which you spoke? And Hunter's claim that the three brothers were raised from the dead? It goes against the greatest science of the Galaxy. Such things should not be happening."

  "Believe us, brother," Erx said. "Much stranger things have been happening lately."

  Multx sipped his wine again. "But overthrowing the Empire? I'm sorry, in all my years, never did I think I'd hear seditious trash from you two."

  Erx and Berx shook their heads. It was hard to blame Multx for not believing them. They needed to play their trump card.

  "If we could prove to you that our cause is righteous," Erx said. "Would you do as we asked?"

  Before he could reply, Berx waved his hand in a circular motion a few feet from Multx's nose.

  Suddenly a small cumulus cloud appeared, billowing and growing larger by the second. A great wind then blew through the grand room, serving to part the small storm. Within it, Multx was astonished to see an entirely new existence. A place of emerald grass, gently rolling hills, and a cobalt sky. Rivers and fruit trees everywhere. More important, for the first time in a long time, Multx actually felt joy enter in his heart. It was overwhelming — at least until Berx waved his hand again and the vision faded.

  Shaking, his fingers barely able to grip his wineglass, Multx now looked at his friends with new and growing trepidation— and it had nothing to do with their criminal status.

  "Oh my God," he whispered. "You've become magicians. Conjurers. Wizards…"

  "No," Erx said. "We have simply become enlightened. And through no design of our own. We've just showed you the place we've been to, and it is by returning from it that we've been changed."

  "You expect me to believe that you've been to the place in that vision?" Multx asked them. "That place seemed like Paradise itself!"

  "Think about it, brother," Berx said. "The entire Galaxy has been looking for us. Twelve ships — including six stolen Star-crashers — and 40,000 men. Where could we have hidden? In this day of being able to sniff out every last fiber of a human being, of being able look into the past and drag a stray radio signal into the present. In this day of tracking just about anything that is constructed of more than two atoms. Just where do you think we could have gone that no one — absolutely no one — could've found us?"

  Multx was stumped for a moment. "You really went… there?"

  Both nodded. Then they drew a bit closer to him. They were in a hurry.

  "Brother Multx, we are messengers," Erx told him. "And part of the news we carry is grim. But with your help, certain disaster might be avoided. Or at least its effects lessened."

  "But we are also here to present you with an opportunity," Berx went on. "An opportunity to be a hero of great caliber again. To once more prove your courage is beyond all measure. When the history of the man is finally written, your name will appear among the pantheon of heroes. All you have to do is one thing…"

  Multx was stunned by these strong words. "What nonsense is this?" he asked. "I am simply a flicker of light in a sea of stars these days. The Imperial Court doesn't even remember that I exist anymore!"

  "They don't have to," Erx told him calmly. "We know you exist. Just do as we ask, and you will regain your stature and more. Much more."

  Multx collapsed back into his floating chair. He wanted nothing more than to rehabilitate his image.

  But frankly, his two old friends were frightening him. Their appearance, their glow, the vision they'd just created and then taken away. They had changed in ways he wasn't sure he wanted to contemplate.

  Still…

  He looked out at the grand waterfall. At that moment, he hated every drop of water falling over its side and splashing onto the fake lake below. Every drop, every day, day after day, going nowhere but down. Just about anything would be better than this.
r />   "Brothers," he finally said, "tell me what it is you want me to do."

  Erx and Berx both smiled with relief. Then Erx touched Multx's forehead, leaving a drop of oil there.

  "You will know soon enough, brother," he said. Then they faded away.

  14

  Betavilie, Planet America, Home Planets System

  FBI agent Lisa Lee returned to her office after lunch to find her secretary looking a bit flustered.

  At first Lisa thought Gloria was upset at her because she'd failed to bring her back a Coke as she'd promised. Their office was on the third floor of the tiny Betavilie police station— Lisa was the FBI field agent for this part of Ohio — and even though they'd been here nearly eight months, a few kinks remained. Getting the soda machine on the first floor to work was just one of them.

  While still a sleepy little town, Betavilie was also a very famous place these days. It was here that the three visitors from outer space first arrived almost a year ago. It was they who passed on the knowledge that Planet America, as well as the other thirty-five worlds in the Home Planets system, was really part of a long-neglected prison camp in the sky set up thousands of years before by the very evil Second Empire. This celestial prison was trapped inside a time bubble that retarded technical advancement but allowed the unknowing inmates to live a civilized if antiquated way of life. Planet America had cars and factories and highways and railroads. It had cops and firefighters, priests and politicians. Post offices, sports teams, grammar schools, high schools, and colleges could all be found here. The tiny planet consisted of one large landmass that began in the east with cities like Boston, New York, Charleston, and Miami, and went right across to California, where the other West Coast states also lay. Across a very narrow sea was New York again. It was an artificial world, recreated in the image of the place that its first inhabitants had been forced from 4,000 years before. The people of Planet America were the descendants of those original deportees from Earth.