by James Palmer
Slowly, slowly, the Corruban forced the vibroblade towards Morion’s abdomen. Then it bit the colonel and began sawing into him. Morion screamed in agony as his flesh was rent. Quickly getting to his feet, Bal stepped back and let the weapon do its awful work.
An alarm klaxon sounded. Bal Tabarin looked to find Omar Batrachian standing at one wall, beside the “evacuate ship” alarm.
“That,” announced the little being, “will take care of Cilus’ mercenaries.”
It was then that Bal Tabarin noticed his fallen friend.
The Corruban rushed to the Sabour’s side. By now, the light from the Heart of the Universe was blinding. Bal had to shield his eyes as he knelt beside his wounded friend.
“It’s done?” asked Rebani Kalba in a weak voice.
Bal nodded. “As much as possible. I don’t think the Heart wants to go with anyone. It disintegrated Xiten, and then Chon’s beasts as they reacted to its light.”
The Sabour nodded weakly.
“Hang on,” Bal said in a grim voice. “I’ve got to get you to the med bay.”
“I won’t make it,” gritted Rebani. “The blaze caught me full in the chest ... organs eaten away ... even ... a Sarc tank couldn’t save me ... I don’t have long. Leave me with the Heart. It has one more thing ... to tell me.”
Bal’s tongue caught in his throat. He could now see that the Sabour’s injuries were as bad as he claimed. He probably wouldn’t make it back to The Vagabond Lady, much less the nearest hospital.
The Corruban now realized that this is what Rebani Kalba had expected, what, perhaps, he wanted: to die in service, doing good, dying so that others could live; in this case, the Sacred Heart of the Universe.
Bal Tabarin could now feel the rays emanating from the Heart, which shone like a miniature sun. His skin tingled under the multi-colored beams.
“Goodbye, ‘Bani,” said Bal.
The Sabour muttered something that Bal could not make out – perhaps something in his native tongue; the Corruban could not be sure.
Leaning in, he heard Rebani hiss, “Go. The Heart ….”
Bal knew what the Sabour meant. The whatever-it-was emanating from the gem was growing more intense. The feeling had gone from unpleasant to uncomfortable. The impression was that it was a reactor overloading, a bomb that was about to explode. It felt dangerous to be near the shining jewel – and the Corruban had seen what it had done to Xiten.
Slowly getting to his feet, Bal Tabarin made his way to the door, where he found Princess Virga, now nominally in the custody of Omar Batrachian, who brandished his lethal little cane at her.
With a last glance back at Rebani Kalba, Bal prodded the duo ahead of him out into the corridor, trying not to think of what was occurring in Arga Cilus’ special chamber.
Summoning the last of his strength, Rebani Kalba the Sabour pulled himself across the floor towards the shining gem. Then, suddenly, man and jewel faded from sight, ceasing to exist on this plane of reality, and the room went dark once more, as dark as deep space.
30 In Which New
Friendships Are Made
Bal Tabarin, in the cockpit of The Vagabond Lady, watched the instruments before him. Josef stood over him, observing him with the android equivalent of concern. “The yacht’s completely dead ... no power at all, not even from the engine core.”
“I don’t understand,” said Josef.
“I don’t either,” said his master slowly. Then, suddenly, his fingers played over the console.
“You’re launching a beacon, sir?” asked Josef in holotronic surprise.
“A man couldn’t ask for a more fitting monument,” explained Bal. “I want to make sure that everyone who comes this way knows what it means.”
The little satellite shot out into space. Taking up a place not far from the dead hulk of the Inclarnefa, it began broadcasting its message: “This is the final resting place of Rebani Kalba the Sabour, who died ensuring a new life could live.”
“You know, Josef,” said Bal. “He was wrong about one thing.”
“What was that, sir?”
“I don’t regret having known him.”
After observing the beacon for a few moments, Bal Tabarin went to check on his guests.
The Corruban found Virga and Omar Batrachian in the ward room, arguing. Bal found the princess as alluring as ever, despite the fact that he knew he couldn’t trust her. But she was not, as far as he had been able to ascertain, a murderess. And she was at least as trustworthy as the little Tarbic, whose every other thought was some sort of scheme.
“Under the circumstances,” said Bal, “I’ll drop you off at the nearest planet.”
“Oh,” smiled Princess Virga, “I’m in no hurry to get home. There’s really nothing left of my heritage except my title, really,” the olive-skinned woman admitted. Her candor made her even more attractive, Bal thought.
“And I have a proposition that might interest you, my boy,” said Omar Batrachian.
“I’m listening …,” said Bal Tabarin, a twinkle in his eye.
About the Author
Jeff Deischer is the author of more than two dozen novels (some under pen names), all written in a pulp style. These range from science fiction, superhero, golden age pulp adventure, space opera, and spy thrillers. Jeff is perhaps best known for his nonfiction chronology books, The Adventures of the Man of Bronze: a Definitive Chronology; The Marvel Timeline Project, Part 1; and The Way They Were: The Histories of Some of Adventure Fiction’s Most Famous Heroes and Villains.
Jeffdeischer.blogspot.com
Also by Jeff Deischer
The Shadow of the Sund: Brotherhood of Sabours Book 1
The Reavers of Kargh Brotherhood of Sabours Book 2
The Red Brotherhood: Brotherhood of Sabours Book 3
The Cagliostro Chronicles
Ralph J. Angelo, Jr.
The
Cagliostro Chronicles
By
Ralph L. Angelo, Jr.
Cover by Gustav Barta
Edited by Deborah Richardson
Of DRE&MS
Published by Cosmic Comet Publishing
Copyright 2013 By Ralph L. Angelo, Jr.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without permission in writing from the copyright holder, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review
Dedicated to the kids in my life, Tara, Sammy, Madeline and Nicholas! You guys all rock! Love ya! Uncle Ralph.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter 1
“3, 2, 1…IGNITION!”
The great ship shook, vibrating so heavily those sitting within its command deck area held on for dear life as their vision blurred. Mark Johnson sat in the Captain’s chair and cursed inwardly, shaking his head he said “Shut it down.”
“It’s not supposed to do that, is it?” A stocky man sitting in a plush chair behind the pilot’s display turned in his seat, and said to Mark.
“No Danny, It’s not.” Johnson replied as h
e slumped back in his seat, annoyance written all over his face.
Dan Sledge sighed as he stood up. “Relax Mark; I’ll get right on it. The issue has gotta be with the gyroscopic navigation and balance system.”
“All right Danny. Keep me informed. I’ll be down to the engineering bay as soon as possible.”
Dan Sledge nodded and walked away, toward the elevator on the left side of the command deck, and after entering the single entrant wide elevator sideways due to the width of his shoulders, disappeared. He was a very powerfully built man. At six feet tall he looked far larger than he actually was, because he had a huge amount of muscle packed on him. That was due to his heritage as a member of the famed Jupiter colony where he was born. He had been born in a floating city high above Jupiter that was placed there as a gas mine. His lineage had been genetically altered to allow for the incredibly increased gravity of the place. Not only was the denser musculature needed to simply walk around in such a high gravity environment, but it aided in moving equipment that weighed many tons more than it would on earth. Most machinery would crumble under its own weight in such a place. But people like Dan, genetically engineered to be super-humanly strong took all the guess work out of gas mining above Jupiter.
His strength was significantly more than a normal earthborn man’s. He could lift many tons easily, due to his unique musculature, but he had the heart of a teddy bear.
Next to his console a gorgeous blonde sat and swiveled her seat until it was facing Mark Johnson’s. She smiled warmly and offered, “It’ll be all right Mark. Danny’ll straighten it out.”
Mark Johnson nodded as he stood up from his command chair. He was a good looking man with medium length brown hair. He stood about six foot two and weighed in the neighborhood of two hundred pounds. Not thin, not heavy. He had suppleness to his movements that some compared to a panther. “You’re right Ariel, I know you are, but I have to worry about this stuff. It’s my name out there.” He waved towards the outside of the ship and the hangers in the distance.
Ariel nodded, “I understand Mark, but try to relax anyway. This will all work out. You know that.” Her wavy blonde hair fell between her shoulders as she turned her chair and returned to her position at her monitoring station. Ariel O’Conner was drop dead gorgeous. She stood five feet seven inches tall and had perfect looks, like a Goddess. But she had something else going for her too. She was a telepath. A very powerful telepath. All of Mark Johnson’s command crew were special people. Ariel was his communications or ‘comm’ officer, and she was also his girlfriend.
Mark nodded in agreement then turned his head toward a man sitting at the next console over from Ariel, “Eddie, how are the weapon diagnostics going? Tell me something good, Mr. DiGenovese.” Sitting across from Ariel’s station was Eddie DiGenovese. Eddie was a dark haired man about five foot nine inches tall, and around a solid one hundred and eighty pounds. His boyish good looks and quick smile melted many a ladies hearts, but that wasn’t all Eddie melted. When he fired the ships weapons, or his hand blaster with pinpoint accuracy he could melt out a key hole at half a mile. His expertise had yet to meet its match. “Well, boss, I gotta tell you, it’s all good here so far. I think the weapons banks are fine. You do good work.” Eddie grinned.
Mark nodded and turned toward the last member of his command crew. “Red, anything to report? Are we okay? Or did we wake the enemy?”
The fifth member of the crew was the security officer or sergeant at arms. He stood six foot four and was a rock solid two hundred twenty pounds of muscle. His red hair and freckled face belied his no-nonsense temperament. He was a bruiser, trained in many different fighting styles. To this day, James “Red” Robinski worked out two hours every day. One hour building muscle, another hour practicing fighting techniques. He always had a dour expression on his pale face, and was not known to be the happiest of persons. But most importantly he was unmatched at his job, and he was completely and absolutely loyal to Mark Johnson. As were all in his security detail. “Mark, everything is fine. All security details have checked in, but it looks like we’re going to have some company in the next few minutes. I’m picking up hover tank movements in quadrant four, aimed directly at us and closing fast.”
“The general?” Ariel asked Mark.
“I have to assume. I mean who else could it be?” He turned to her, and then to all the command crew, looking over the expectant faces of everyone watching him, “I’m getting tired of these impromptu visits.”
“Tell him that.” Ariel urged.
“Won’t matter Ari. There’s more going on here than you know right now, but I promise I’ll explain it to all of you soon, once we get off planet.”
Ariel walked up to Mark who was staring out the big view screen before the command crew. Right now it showed where the ship was ‘parked’ in the middle of nowhere, meaning deep within the Arizona desert, and the Johnson Space and Aeronautical Corporation test facilities.
“Mark, relax. This will happen. The Cagliostro will fly.” Ariel began, her smooth voice softly toying with his ears.
“I know Ariel. But I need to get it space borne in the next few days. We have to get off planet sooner than later.”
“Why?”
“Because of him.” he jerked his thumb towards the view screen “I’ll fill you in later, all of you. This is big, and right now I have to deal with our company.”
Ariel turned and looked out the view screen, then cursed softly under her breath. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No Ari. I’ll handle the General.”
Outside, now facing the great ship Cagliostro were a half dozen powerful hover tanks as well as an old style gasoline powered jeep, where a cigar chewing, army General stood up and looked over the top of the windshield. He was a heavy set man about six feet one inches tall. His gray mustache quivered on his lip as he beheld the Cagliostro for the first time. He whipped off his sunglasses and huffed and puffed on his cigar before jumping off the jeep, fists clenched, he stomped determinedly towards the Cagliostro itself.
“Johnson!” He roared. “I know you hear me Johnson! Get out here! You and I need to talk, and talk now.”
Mark sighed, shook his head and walked toward the elevator on the right side of the command deck.
‘Do you want me to at least stay mind linked with you?’ Ariel spoke within the confines of both their minds.
‘Up to you hon,’ Johnson replied in the same manner, “Though I have a feeling my conversation with the General is about to become a bit…colorful.”
‘Okay, I’ll cut the link. If you need me holler, I’ll hear that.’
‘Sure thing, babe.’
Ariel severed their link while Mark exited the command deck and a moment later was outside the Cagliostro and walking toward the General.
“What are you doing here, General?”
“I came to see what all the ruckus was that I had just heard about.”
“And just how’d you hear about my engine test so quickly, General?”
The older man pointed towards space with the hand holding his cigar. “We have these new-fangled things you might have heard of, they’re called satellites.”
“So you are watching me.” Mark replied, with anger coloring his voice now.
“Of course we’re watching you, Johnson. It’s 2089, everyone is watching everyone. You promised the United States military your faster than light magnetic drive. We mean to watch over our investment.”
“There is no investment, General, not yet. I funded this faster than light drive out of my own pocket, as you well know. I have no problem selling it to my nation after I test it, but I decide when and if it’s ready to be put into production. Not you, or anyone else.” He turned to stare at the gleaming space ship towering above him.
“No one is trying to step on your toes son; we just want to make sure you have the best interests of your country at heart. Look, you know you are about to make history with this new ship of yours. Mankind ha
s never flown through space faster than light before. Isn’t it best to have the United States military making that great achievement? It’s something for the history books, son. Like Washington crossing the Potomac, or the Wright Brothers first flight. Think like a patriot son. You are a patriot, aren’t you?”
Johnson turned and faced the General with anger playing at the corners of his mouth. “General, you pulled up here on to my property with six, count ‘em six of the hover tanks I designed, built and sold to the government. My patriotism is unmatched by anyone in Washington or anywhere else for that matter. Secondly, all the greatest moments in mankind’s history have come from individual engineers, scientists and free thinkers, NOT the government, which can’t even run itself because of all its largesse. Now you go back to your superiors and tell them that I will gladly sell them the designs for not only my magno-disc engine design, but the starships that go with them, when I decide it is safe to put them into production. Not before. No soldier will be put at risk because of me. Good day General.”
Johnson turned and walked away before the General could say another word.
Two minutes later he was back on the command deck, sitting in his plush Captains chair staring at the six hover tanks which were just now powering up and floating away, The jeep remained a moment longer with the old man standing within it and staring at the magnificent ship before finally sitting down and barking orders at his driver to get them out of there. External microphones picked up the General’s order.
“This ship has to be in space tomorrow.” Johnson commented loudly enough for everyone who remained on the command deck to hear him.