"Hello, little brother!" Riff grinned and walked through the wreckage toward him. "Seems like I popped by just in the nick of time."
The tall, gaunt knight regarded him, eyes blank. He passed his fingers through his drooping mustache, brushing out the ash; Steel loved that mustache like Riff loved his guitar and Nova loved her motorbike. The knight turned toward his castle, and his jaw twitched.
A great hole, large enough to ride a horse through, gaped open in the castle wall. Ash rained from its rims. Fire burned inside, spreading across austere furniture.
Steel spoke in a low, haunted voice. "The homestead burns. I have failed to defend my castle." He tossed back his head and cried out in anguish. "What kind of knight am I, a knight who could not even protect his fortress?"
Riff stepped closer and cleared his throat. "Well, not a knight at all, really." He tapped his brother's breastplate where the old symbol of his order, the Knights of Sol, had been scratched off. "They banished you from the brotherhood, remember?"
Steel turned those brown, sad eyes toward him—those eyes that seemed so much older and wiser than his years. The eyes of an old man. "The measure of a knight, my brother, lies not in titles, not in sigils, but in his heart. In honor. In chivalry. In great deeds upon the battlefield. My lords have fallen to corruption, and thus my sigil was stripped away, yet the honor still pumps in my heart, and the pride of nobility still flows through my veins. No man can take those from me."
Nova stepped forward, coiling up her whip. "You're talking shite, Steel." She hawked noisily, spat, and scratched her backside. "Still a bloody loony, you are."
The knight turned his hound dog eyes upon her. "And I see that you are still a refined, delicate lady."
She snorted. "To hell with that. I'm a warrior, Steel." She sneered. "A true warrior of Planet Ashmar, not some relic."
He tilted his head. "And yet, last I heard, Planet Ashmar exiled you, same as my order exiled me. Perhaps we're both relics, my lady."
"I ain't a lady." She glared.
He bowed his head toward her. "Perhaps you spit, curse, and show me no respect, yet my honor demands that I treat you as a lady. For I am a knight. And I'm sworn to defend all damsels in distress."
Nova gasped, rage blazing in her eyes, and cracked her whip. Lightning bolts flared out. "A damsel in distress? Do I look like I'm in distress to you, knight? I'm going to show you who the damsel is. I—"
"Enough, both of you!" Riff roared, stepping between them. "The Cosmians will know we destroyed their starjet. More are probably flying over here as we speak—a hundred starjets all armed with blasters, not just one vessel."
Steel raised his chin and raised his sword. "I am prepared to defend the homestead. I shall fight honorably and die to protect the—"
"Nobody is dying today!" Riff grabbed his brother's arm. "Come on. We're getting out of here." He righted the bike and climbed into the seat. "Steel, you got a ride?"
The knight nodded. "I shall ride my noble steed."
Nova groaned. "He's got a steed. Perfect."
"A noble steed," Riff said gently, as if that could make things any better.
A moment later, Riff and Nova were riding their scorpion motorbike down a dirt road. At their side, Steel Starfire, clad in armor and bearing his ancient sword, rode upon his horse.
CHAPTER SIX:
GREASE AND GRISTLE
An hour later, they approached The Cracked Pot, a greasy roadside diner shaped like a huge coffeepot. Its metal walls were rusting, and weeds grew in the yard. The only vehicle in the lot was a dented old atmojet with a python coiled up in the back seat; it looked like neither jet nor snake had moved in years.
"Classy joint," Nova said as they rolled their motorbike to a stop.
Riff stepped off the seat and cracked his neck. "No less classy than the Blue Strings or Alien Arena. And they'll serve coffee here. Wonderful, hot, black, heavenly coffee. After fleeing Cosmians all night, I'd welcome a cup of joe more than a harem of Orion hula dancers."
Nova glared at him. "Watch it, big boy. I haven't forgiven you yet."
Steel dismounted his horse and stared at the rusty, pot-shaped building. "An establishment of debauchery."
Riff rolled his eyes. "Steel, I told you. Coffee isn't debauchery."
The knight stiffened. "Caffeine is a drug. It is sinful. It is—"
"Shut it, tin can." Nova slapped Steel's armor, shoved him aside, and made for the diner. "Now come with us and drink water while we guzzle down caffeine."
They stepped inside and found a booth. No living waiter could be seen, but a clunky robot made from scrap metal took their orders. Soon Riff and Nova were downing mugs of piping hot coffee, eating ridiculously greasy eggs and bacon, and sharing a slice of apple pie topped with cheddar cheese. Steel ordered a cup of water and plain white toast. The food tasted like something scraped off a starship's engines, but the coffee was half decent, and the jukebox even had "Moonshine Blues" by Bootstrap and the Shoeshine Kid. As caffeine filled his bloodstream, and as Bootstrap's soulful notes filled the diner, Riff began to almost feel like his old self.
For a long while, Riff spoke, telling the others about everything that had happened since Grotter had stepped into his club.
Steel listened with a stern face, not moving, not speaking. Only when Riff mentioned the letter from their father did the knight's eyes widen.
"What does the letter say?" Steel asked.
Riff pulled the rumpled envelope out of his pocket. "With Cosmians firing at me all night and day, I haven't had a chance to read it yet." He tore the envelope open and pulled out a letter. He read it silently first, then showed it to the others.
Riff, my boy!
I hope this letter finds you well and safe. Yet things are not well and safe in the galaxy, Earth included.
I cannot say much now. Not in a letter that might fall into the wrong hands. When we meet again, much will be clarified.
A friend of mine, a young pirilian named Midnight, needs your help. I've sent her to the Blue Strings, but you must not keep her there. I fear that the Cosmians are gaining strength, that all Earth is in danger. Take my friend off the planet. Find shelter in the outposts. Hide. Wait to hear more from me. I will find you.
Do not let the Cosmians find my friend. If they catch her, a greater danger than you can imagine will befall us all. In the wrong hands, Midnight's power could destroy the very universe.
Sorry for being so grim, my boy. Next time we meet, I'll rustle up your favorite walnut pancakes, and hopefully we can laugh about this all, the danger far behind us.
Love,
Dad
Riff placed the letter back into his pocket. "Well, that didn't tell us much, did it? Aside from the fact that the universe is going to end."
"Midnight . . ." Steel frowned at his toast. "There is a damsel in distress out there, and we failed to find her."
Nova rolled her eyes. "Again with your damsels! The whole universe is in danger, and you're worried about your maiden to save."
"Pirilians," Riff muttered. "The skelkrins destroyed their planet a while back. Was all over the news—for a day or two, at least. The Cosmians celebrated it here on Earth. I didn't think any pirilians still lived."
Steel brushed crumbs out of his mustache. "Pirilians?"
Riff nodded. "Unique in the galaxy. Got magic to them, some say. They can teleport themselves within any space, crossing any distance instantly, so long as no walls stand between them." He took a deep, wistful breath. "I used to date a pirilian once. That's how I know. She used to port all over the place, vanishing one instant, appearing the next . . ." He glanced at Nova, saw the fire in her eyes, and quickly swallowed his words. "But I haven't seen one in years. And I'd know. They stick out. Purple skin and yellow eyes. Hard to miss."
"Aliens or humanoids?" Steel asked.
"Both, I think. Might be human settlers mingling with aliens thousands of years ago. But what do we do about this one?"
Steel ro
se to his feet, pushing back his chair. "We seek her. We scour Cog City for her. A maiden is in need, and we shall protect her."
"Except the city is swarming with Cosmians," Riff said. "And they're after us like they're after her. And they're after Dad too. Grotter knew that Dad's involved somehow. The Blue Strings is too dangerous right now. I say we blast off this rock, head to the space outposts, and check every one of Dad's regular haunts until we find him. He might not even know Grotter's on to him. He might need our help."
Steel's face remained hard. "Flee from battle? Abandon a damsel? A knight does no such things."
"Well, I'm not a knight. I'm a bluesman." Riff stabbed at his eggs. "Look, I'll put the word out on the street. I don't have the network Grotter has, but I have my people. Old Bat Brown will wait for the girl in the Blue Strings. Mandy and Tammy, out in the alley, will keep an eye on comings and goings. I got a dozen other guys and girls all over the dregs. Musicians. Panhandlers. Shopkeeps. Friends. I'll have them looking for a pirilian with purple skin and yellow eyes, and if they find her, they'll shelter her until we get back. But us here? We're no longer safe on Earth, not now. Not with Cosmians tracking us down. We need to blast off this rock, sail to the space colonies, and find Dad. We need answers from him." Riff smiled crookedly. "Hell, maybe leaving the planet will even keep this mysterious girl safe. We can draw some Cosmians after us."
For the past few minutes, Nova had remained silent. The ashai princess stared blankly at the wall, her face hard.
"What do you think, Nova?" Riff asked her, trying to keep his voice gentle.
"I think," she said softly, "that I hear an engine outside." She turned her head toward Riff. "I think I shouldn't have used my credit card in this place."
"Damn!" Riff leaped to his feet. He heard the jets from outside now too. "Yeah, they're tracking your card. God damn it! Come on, out the back door."
Steel rose to his feet and drew his sword. "I will not flee from battle."
Riff groaned, grabbed his brother, and whispered into his ear, "Steel, you have to protect Nova. A damsel! You must lead her to safety."
"I'm not a—" Nova began.
"Now move!" Riff shouted.
Within a minute, they were racing down the road—Riff and Nova on the motorbike, Steel on his horse. When Riff looked over his shoulder, he saw a black atmojet, the Cosmian emblem upon it, blast its guns toward The Cracked Pot. The diner shattered and collapsed. Then the bike drove onto a dirt path in the forest, Steel riding close behind, and they vanished into the cover of trees and brush.
They rode for a long time off road, moving between the trees, until the sound of the atmojet faded in the distance.
Just in time, the Golden Scorpion gave a few coughs and sputtered, then rolled to a stop. The motorbike was out of fuel. Steel's horse seemed to run out of his own fuel; the animal ambled toward a patch of grass and began to feed.
The companions stood in the forest, covered in ash, mud, and bacon grease.
"See my point?" Riff said. "Planet Earth bad. Not safe."
A voice inside him whispered that perhaps no place was safe anymore, not even the most distant planets. His dad was involved in something. Something dangerous. Sometimes that would attract bad company even in the outposts, even in the distant stars. Riff had to find the man. Had to keep him safe. Had to find answers. Were the skelkrins heading closer to Earth? Could Midnight, this pirilian woman, hold a secret to stop an invasion? Riff's head spun.
"Steel," he said, "is that old used starship lot still around here? The one Dad used to take us to when we asked to see real starships?"
The knight nodded. "The town's about three kilometers north from here."
"Good." Riff began to walk, pushing the scorpion bike at his side. "We ain't buying tickets on a commercial starship. Too easy to track down. I bet we can buy our own ship off the record—even if it's an old clunker—for ten grand. We blast off, and we look for Dad."
"And what of the damsel?" Steel walked at his side, leading his horse.
"I told you, I'm not a damsel!" Nova began, raising her whip. Mud stained the gladiator's golden armor.
"He means the pirilian," Riff said. "Oh shenanigans, let me make a few calls."
As they walked through the forest, Riff hit dials on his wristwatch, calling up the Blue Strings. He spoke to Old Bat Brown first, thanking him for the bedbugs. Mindful that the Cosmians might be tracking his calls, he then asked Bat Brown to keep a look out for a "brain-scrambler-faced jumper side-riffer, in trouble with some bass players." In old blues-speak, "jumper" meant "teleporter," "side-riffer" meant friend, and "bass players" meant trouble. Riff just hoped the old man understood that by "brain-scrambler," a deep purple cocktail, he meant "purple."
The old bartender, one of the wisest men Riff knew, seemed to understand. Riff made a few more calls, speaking to Rumple McNally who always sat by the stage, Gristle Scotch who was playing that night, and Mandy and Tammy out in the alley.
"If our pirilian girl so much as sets foot in Cog City," Riff told his companions, "my guys will know. They'll look after her while we're looking for Dad."
Steel nodded. "Good. Because we're here."
The knight pointed between the trees, and Riff found himself staring at a giant, mechanical dragon.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
THE HMS DRAGON HUNTRESS
The town of Sprocket would have been forgettable if not for the dragon that rose in its center.
Several kilometers out of Cog City, this was barely a town at all. A couple of greasy spoons. A few barns. An antique shop selling old android parts. And the used starship lot.
The lot took up a good ninety percent of the town, a sprawling field full of all manner of ships. A few were slick, two-seater starjets, capable of flying in city, country, and open space. They looked expensive. Other starships were hulking, rusty boxes of metal, the size of apartment buildings—great cargo transports that had seen better days, meant for long hauls between planets. A couple of ships were even fine luxury vehicles, old models but still decent-looking, built for pleasure cruises to the stars.
And among them rose the dragon.
At least, Riff thought the starship was meant to look like a dragon. It seemed to have been rusting here for ages. It didn't even stand on the lot itself but in a backyard, vines and brush climbing its facades. Riff thought it was a starship—it had wings and engines—but it could just as well have been some giant piece of modern art. It rose about the height of a house, its mouth pointing to the sky.
"What a bunch of junk!" Nova said as they walked toward the lot, leaving the forest behind. "I've seen better collections of starships in landfills."
Steel nodded. "Nova is right. None of these are spaceworthy. They're more rust than metal."
Riff rolled his eyes. "Said the man who lived in a self-made castle. These ships are fine! They just need a coat of paint, some love, and they'll fly. That one isn't too bad." He pointed at a white starjet, only for its wing to tilt and thump into the dirt.
When they entered the lot, a man stepped forward to greet them, arms outstretched. His thinning hair was greased back across his scalp, and he puffed on a cigar. His Hawaiian shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a flabby belly, and many golden chains rested upon his hairy chest. Jeweled rings gleamed upon the man's sausage fingers, and cheap plastic sunglasses hid his eyes.
"Welcome, welcome!" the used starship salesman said. "I'm Leroy, and I'm here to make you a deal."
Nova rolled her eyes. "He's greasier than the bacon we had for breakfast."
Riff walked closer to the short, stubby man. "Leroy, we're here to—"
"Wait, let me guess!" Leroy grinned, revealing a golden tooth. "You're here to buy a starship."
"The man's a mind reader," Nova muttered.
Leroy took the gladiator's hand and kissed it, seemingly oblivious to her disgusted look. "My lady! I would be glad to show you a wide variety of pleasure ships in pink, purple, and baby blue, luxury vehicles th
at will have you exploring the galaxy of pretty stars."
"Got any with guns on 'em?" she asked.
Leroy's eyes widened. He gulped and dabbed sweat off his brow, then turned toward Riff. "Ah, my friend!" He placed hairy hands on Riff's shoulders. "I can see you have a distinguishing eye for quality starships. A musician too, by the guitar on your back. I can offer you a lovely ship that's as beautiful as any melody. Fine speaker system too."
He led the companions toward a green starjet which lay on the asphalt. It looked just large enough for the three of them, if Nova sat on Riff's lap, which he very much hoped she'd do.
"Is it supposed to have holes in it?" Riff asked.
Leroy cleared his throat. "Those are asteroid-protection holes, my friend! See, when little asteroids fly your way, they get sucked right into those holes, sparing your hull."
"I'll take one without holes," Riff said.
Leroy nodded and barked a rather fake-sounding laugh. "There's no pulling the wool over this one's eyes. Here, my friends." He grew solemn. "The masterpiece of my lot. The finest ship I sell. Behold—the Starship Galactica!"
Riff found himself staring at a large, charcoal starship that didn't look too bad. There were no holes on this one, and only minimal rust. He judged it to be about ten years old. "How much for it?"
"One hundred thousand credits, my friend."
Riff's eyes widened. "Are you mad?"
Nova growled and cracked her whip. "Are you trying to rob us?"
Steel frowned. "Theft is against all codes of honor and chivalry."
Leroy stiffened, staring between bluesman, gladiator, and knight. For an instant anger seemed to twitch across his lips. But then those lips grinned again, revealing his golden tooth. "Very well, very well, my friends! You seek something more affordable, I see. How much can you spend?"
Riff cleared his throat and rummaged through his pockets. He turned toward the others, and they huddled together.
Alien Hunters - Discover Sci-Fi Special Edition Page 5