by S. F. Said
Lucky flinched. The thought was too horrible. ‘How can you tell?’
‘Those flashes are supernova pulses,’ said the Professor. ‘To a Startalker, they are like death throes: the desperate screams of someone facing the end of their life.’
Lucky could feel Mystica’s hand shaking as tremors surged up from deep inside her. But her voice stayed calm, betraying not a hint of pain.
‘Until now,’ she said, ‘their source was hidden by the Spacewall, so we couldn’t tell their origin. But now there is no doubt. A star is dying – and not just any star.’ She shut her golden eyes; it was like night falling upon her face. ‘It is the star I am connected to. The star at the centre of the Aquarius system. I feel everything the Aquarius star feels. I cannot help it; our destinies are linked. So I know my star is dying, because’ – she took a sharp breath, and opened her eyes again – ‘because I know that I am dying.’
‘What?’ It felt like someone had reached into Lucky’s chest, and squeezed his heart.
Bixa shook her head, her eyes burning. ‘I don’t believe it, Mystica,’ she said. ‘You can’t be dying. Yes, you’re ill, very ill, but—’
‘Not ill, my dear. Dying.’
‘No!’ said Bixa, her needles almost black. ‘It doesn’t make sense. Aquarius still has millions of years left to shine. It’s nowhere near time for it to go supernova.’
‘I cannot explain it,’ said Mystica. ‘I do not understand why it is happening. But I feel it in my bones, and so does the Professor. Don’t you feel it too?’
‘I don’t feel a thing,’ growled Bixa.
Mystica was seized by another fit of coughs: deep, racking coughs that tore her apart from inside.
‘There must be a cure,’ said Lucky. ‘Every illness has a cure.’
Mystica shook her head, exhausted. ‘This is no illness. It is the suffering of my star that I feel. If only we knew what the Wolf was! It is connected, I am sure. My star will only survive if the Wolf is stopped – and only then, perhaps, will I . . .’
‘Our best hope lies in finding the Twelve Astraeus,’ said the Professor. ‘What say you, Mystica? Do you feel their presence?’
‘I – I’m not sure.’
The Professor twisted his whiskers. ‘I am positive they are somewhere this side of the Wall. We should start to search for signs, out there among the stars.’
‘Of course,’ said Mystica. ‘Bixa. Can you get us a clear view of space?’
Silently, Bixa turned away from her grandmother, and tapped on the vidscreen, bringing up a flickering image of the view outside. They squinted through the static, but there was too much interference to see anything clearly.
‘May I?’ said Professor Byzantine. ‘In my experience, there is only one thing to do with this kind of technology.’
He approached the wall screen and gave it a hefty thump. The image flickered, crackled, and finally cleared.
The Professor smiled at his handiwork. But on the vidscreen now, all they could see was empty space: a lightless black void. The Professor’s fingers flicked over the screen, bringing up many different views. He peered through his spectacles, examining all possible angles as he searched for signs of the Twelve Astraeus.
‘What are we looking for, exactly?’ said Lucky. ‘Are they really like those people on the vidpics: the gods with the flaming swords and lightning bolts and everything?’
‘Those images are based upon ancient legends,’ said the Professor. ‘The legends are incomplete: only fragments remain. And different cultures had different legends. Some thought of the Astraeus as immortal gods; others saw them as stars who came down from the sky to walk among us for a while. So it is hard to be sure of anything. All we can say with certainty is that these were beings of unimaginable power, capable of destroying worlds – or creating them.’
Lucky looked hard at the vidscreens, for he too was beginning to hope for the return of the Twelve Astraeus. If they really were as powerful as the Startalkers believed, then perhaps they would be the ones to make everything OK.
But there seemed to be no trace of them as yet.
Captain Nox came into the cabin, looking very serious. ‘How are you, Mystica?’ he said. ‘I am so sorry about that shockwave. I did my best . . .’
The old lady managed a small smile, despite her pain. ‘I am fine, my dear. And thanks to Lucky here, the horrors of the Wall at least are behind us.’
The Captain turned to Lucky, a dark look in his eyes. ‘How did you persuade those Shadow Guards to release us, anyway?’ he asked.
Lucky’s heart thumped. This was it. No avoiding it any more. He didn’t want to lie to his friends – but the President had left him no choice. ‘The Shadow Guards know my father,’ he said carefully, sticking as close to the truth as he could. ‘They let me go so I’d have a chance to find him.’
‘Seriously?’ said Bixa. ‘Wow. He must be important!’
‘Yeah.’ Lucky took a deep breath. ‘And . . . I discovered something. I overheard them saying he’s being held in an Axxa army base, on a planet called Charon.’
They all stared at him like he’d said something unspeakably foul.
‘Charon?!’ said Bixa. ‘You sure you heard right? ’Cos that’s like saying . . . Hell! It’s a place people whisper about in their nightmares; somewhere you scare kids with. If you’re not good, you’ll end up in Charon Caves . . .’
Lucky felt the ground shift under his hooves. ‘Really? Well, do you know where to find this planet Charon?’
‘Of course not,’ said the Captain. ‘No one even knows if it’s real. You’d have to ask the army to get the truth, because I don’t believe there’s a civilian who knows it.’
‘Oh.’ Lucky’s heart was sinking.
But Mystica and the Professor exchanged a glance. ‘There is another possibility,’ said Mystica. ‘Someone else who might know.’
‘Who?’ asked Lucky, clutching at hope.
‘The Startalker of the Future,’ said Professor Byzantine. ‘You see, she has knowledge of things that are presently unknown, and have never been known – so if anyone knows, it’s her. And as it happens, I would rather like to visit her, to consult her about the mysteries before us. I see no reason why Lucky should not come along too, and ask her about Charon. It cannot hurt, can it?’
‘I agree,’ said Mystica. ‘It is decided.’ She looked at Lucky in the same way she’d looked at him in the cell on the Spacegate: with nothing but love in her golden eyes. ‘Do you have anything else to tell us, Lucky?’ she asked gently.
He felt too guilty to speak. If she knew the truth about President Thorntree, would she feel the same? But he couldn’t risk telling her. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I would love to meet the Startalker of the Future. But where is she?’
‘She never left her home planet,’ said the Professor. ‘She alone persuaded her people to remain neutral in the War, so she is still to be found on Scorpio Six.’
‘Scorpio?’ muttered Captain Nox. ‘The most remote Axxa system? It was always difficult to get there – and now you have to fly through a war zone to reach it.’ He shook his head. ‘There will be battles, Skyhawk patrols, obstacles every step of the way. But . . . if this is the will of the stars . . . I will try to find a route.’
He reached for the astrolabe, and Lucky handed it over at once. The Captain’s face creased with lines of fierce concentration as he summoned all his strength, all his experience. He laid his fingers on the black metal disc, and shut his eyes.
The astrolabe flickered faintly with starlight. The Captain seemed to go into a trance, whispering urgent phrases beneath his breath. His fingers moved purposefully over the dials, making every effort. Lucky could see the dials turning as the Captain tried many routes, even projecting them onto the cabin’s vidscreen so everyone could see. But not one of them seemed to work.
After several long, painful minutes, the Captain came out of the astrolabe again. He looked drained, his face as grey as his horns. ‘It’s hopele
ss,’ he said. ‘The space lanes ahead of us are total chaos. I cannot find a single course that would get us to Scorpio safely.’
Professor Byzantine cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘you should let Lucky try.’
‘Me?’ said Lucky, startled.
The Captain shook his head. ‘Navigation is not child’s play. The number of possible routes to Scorpio is literally infinite.’
‘I am well aware of that,’ said the Professor. ‘However, the boy has been practising very hard with that astrolabe. You might be surprised at how good he is now.’
Lucky flushed with embarrassment. ‘I – I could try,’ he said.
‘There is no route,’ said Nox wearily. ‘I am certain of it.’
‘But there must be,’ said Lucky. ‘There always is.’ He could imagine being in there, tracing pathways through the stars. It made him feel better to think of such things, rather than President Thorntree’s secrets and lies. ‘Captain, you gave me an apprentice navigator’s ident, so let me be your apprentice. Let me help you. I can; I know I can.’
Captain Nox shook his head again. There was a strange look in his eyes: as if the fires inside them were somehow burning out, turning cold. ‘Get it into your head, boy,’ he said. ‘There is no way you are ever going to fly this ship. It’s mine. Do you understand? Mine!’
Lucky flinched as if he’d been slapped in the face – but Professor Byzantine spoke up at once.
‘Of course it is yours, Captain,’ he said mildly. ‘But Lucky is not proposing to fly the ship. Real-time navigation at the speed of dark is a task for only the most experienced pilots, such as your good self! No, all he will do is search for a route. And if he happens to find one – why, then you can use it or not, as you wish.’
Nox did not reply. Still his eyes had that strange cold look.
Mystica reached out, and took his hand. She held it gently; held onto him in the soft candlelight of her cabin.
After a moment, the Captain shuddered – and a spark of fire flickered in his eyes. They seemed to come back into focus, as if his mind had been a million miles away.
‘I – I’m sorry, ‘ he said, starting to shiver. ‘Go ahead, boy. If you really think you can find a route with that astrolabe of yours – then go ahead and try.’
Lucky took a deep breath, unnerved by the Captain’s strange behaviour. He took the astrolobe in his hands, and did his best to concentrate in it.
The symbols began to glow. The dials began to move. They shimmered beneath his fingertips as the metal pulsed and blazed and throbbed with light –
– and then Lucky went into the astrolabe. He became part of it again.
He couldn’t see Mystica’s cabin any more. But he could see the stars: all around him, above him, below him. Their scorching faces staring right back at him. So clear and close, he could taste them on his tongue.
He was floating in space among them, in that astral body once more. And he could hear their silvery songs, chiming out in waves of overwhelming power.
No matter how many times he heard these songs, he never got tired of them.
Please show me all routes to Scorpio Six, he asked the astrolabe, in his mind.
Lines of silver light swirled out from the stars in every direction: every possible pathway through space, spiralling into infinity. He remembered how this used to scare him, make him dizzy – but now he just felt excitement and anticipation.
He looked out across the stars – and took in vast vistas of information at a single glance. He started to survey the routes one by one, moving smoothly along them, and seeing where they led.
It was total chaos in Axxa space. Most routes were clearly too dangerous. Everywhere he looked, there seemed to be raging battles, Skyhawk patrols, or other hazards, like deadly radiation storms.
But there were a few patches of clear space out there; a few safe channels. Lucky focused his attention on them, trying to string together a sequence, to build a route that might get them all the way to Scorpio.
At first, he hit dead end after dead end. But he refused to get discouraged. Each time he reached an obstacle, he discarded the route and moved on to the next possibility. He kept asking questions, and the astrolabe responded, giving him all the information he wanted, and more.
He smiled to himself. It felt so good to move through space, to find connections over vast interstellar distances, to think and see at the level of the stars themselves.
But then he heard something that made his smile fade. Those strange sad songs again. Those fragments echoing across infinity. He heard them clearer than ever before:
The voices seemed so full of fear and grief. He wished he could help them. But he had a job to do here, and only one chance to do it. He made himself focus on navigation, only navigation, and went back to work.
It was clear that a single, straightforward route would not get them there. But what if he put together parts of different routes? He started to improvise, trying anything and everything to expand his options. Still, he kept falling short – but each time, he got a little bit further, a little bit closer. He kept going, refusing to believe it was impossible, refusing to give up. Trial and error, again and again.
He kept trying and failing, but he kept going, bringing himself closer –
– and closer –
– and closer –
– until finally: there it was before him, as if it had been there all along. A swirling spiral corkscrew of a course that was so unlikely, no one could possibly predict or prevent it. Out of all the infinite possibilities, the one and only pathway that would take them clear through to their destination.
The only safe way to Scorpio.
The route.
He knew it was right the moment he saw it. He felt it, deep within his being. He had the sense of something slotting into place, clicking, satisfying.
This is what I’ve been looking for, he thought. But I can’t get carried away; there’s too much at stake. I’ve got to be sure I’m right.
So he checked, and re-checked, and re-re-checked the route. Every time, it came up clear.
Calmly, smoothly, he pulled his consciousness back out of the astral body –
– and returned to the reality of Mystica’s quarters.
In the soft candlelight, the old lady was applauding him. Bixa was cheering, her needles flashing neon pink. Bazooka was flapping her feathers, merrily sneezing jets of flame. Because there was his route, projected on the vidscreen – and even he had to admit, it was a beauty.
‘My word!’ said Professor Byzantine. ‘What a route!’
‘What do you think, Captain?’ said Lucky.
The Captain shook his great head. ‘I – well – I don’t know what to think,’ he said at last. ‘It might work. It may. Perhaps.’ He stood up with some difficulty. ‘I – I shall go to the cockpit, and see what I can do.’ And with that, he shuffled out of Mystica’s cabin.
They watched him go in troubled silence. A moment passed. Then everyone started cheering again – congratulating Lucky on finding the route, calling him a brilliant navigator, a born starsailor.
It felt so good, he could almost forget about Captain Nox.
And he could almost forget that he’d just lied to his friends.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Sunfire flew in a great arc towards Scorpio, weaving between all the battles of the War Zone. Lucky’s route often brought them close to danger – and Axxa Skyhawks tried to intercept them more than once. But by the time they’d registered the Sunfire, the ship was already gone, on a whirling, curling course their navigators just couldn’t follow.
All the way to Scorpio, Professor Byzantine kept Lucky hard at work with the astrolabe, and even harder practising with his power.
‘The Spacewall was a formidable test of your control,’ said the Professor. ‘And you passed with flying colours. So your task now is to go beyond mere control. You must start learning how to use your power: how to tap into it, let it loose, pus
h it further and further, as far as it can go.’
At first, Lucky was reluctant. He didn’t want to let the light shine out of him, or flare into flame. But he was coming to trust the Professor’s judgement, and he was encouraged by his progress with the astrolabe. So he began to experiment in small ways. He started cautiously, learning how to channel the power through his hands, so he didn’t burn his clothes every time he used it. He learned how to project the light away from himself, illuminating the air around him. Gradually, he built up the courage and confidence to let the fire out too, allowing blazing heat to stream from his body; even creating explosions by force of will.
It felt different, making these things happen deliberately, rather than having them happen to him in his dreams, or bursting out of him because of his fear, as they had before. The Professor and Bazooka were with him throughout, urging him on as he made the cabin light up with vivid colours.
But it never became easy for him. It never stopped hurting. Sometimes he lost control. He’d be overwhelmed by fire, and would feel like his head was splitting open under the strain, exploding, burning so badly he never wanted to do it again. Even when it went well, he always felt so raw and exhausted afterwards that it was a relief to practise Astral Martial Arts with Bixa instead. At least the worst that could happen there was getting beaten up.
So the time passed as they travelled through Axxa space, surging past great rings of astral dust, chasing comets’ tails across the stars, until at last they saw the Scorpio system ahead, glowing purple in the black. And at its heart: the planet Scorpio Six, home to the Startalker of the Future.
The Sunfire landed without incident. There were no government ships patrolling the skies; no sign of the Axxa army, either. It was as Professor Byzantine had said: a neutral world.
Everyone was invited to the main cabin to celebrate their arrival and finalize their plans. Lucky and Bixa came in from training to find Mystica and the Professor deep in conversation, over a pot of Xoco that was bubbling on the stove.
