by S. F. Said
Chapter Thirty-One
Lucky and his friends were bound in electrocuffs and marched away from the Sunfire.
They had to lead the Captain by the hand. Mystica was still unconscious. The tears were freezing down Frollix’s face. Bixa was silent, but she was watching everything with her silver eyes, her thoughts unreadable.
The wind lashed into them as they stumbled through the snow. Lucky was beginning to feel numb inside as well as out. What was he supposed to do now?
Whatever happens, don’t ever give up. You are the only person in the galaxy who can find your father. I am counting on you. And so is he.
They came to a halt by the camp. There were squadrons of Skyhawks and ranks of troopers, rows of cabins and bunkers: a fully operational base.
They were led at cannonpoint through gates in the ground. Axxa troopers searched them as they went. They were allowed to keep only their clothes; their possessions were taken, as they had been at the Spacewall. The troopers seized Bixa’s cannon and armour, though they didn’t notice her needles, because she’d retracted them deep into her hair again. But they wrenched the astrolabe away from Lucky, even as he begged and pleaded to keep it.
Down into the darkness they were led: down steps, through corridors, ever further underground. Lucky lost track of the way. His head spun with all the twists and turns they took.
They were taken finally into a freezing cold cavern, shielded by steel doors, with a detachment of troopers standing guard outside. The walls and floor were solid rock, encrusted with ice. Vidcams on the ceiling kept everything under surveillance. A dim blue lamp provided the only light – just enough to show how hopeless it was.
The cavern was crowded with ragged-looking prisoners, huddled together for warmth. Some of them were Human, some were Axxa. Many had the black-hole eyes and the million-mile stare, just like Captain Nox. In the cold blue light, they looked as if they were dead already: all colour drained from their faces, all hope abandoned.
‘Mystica Grandax?’ came a voice from one of the Axxa prisoners. ‘Can that be the Startalker of the Present?’ Whispers rippled through the prisoners as Frollix settled Mystica and the Captain down among them.
‘Who are all these people?’ Lucky asked Bixa.
‘King Theobroma’s dirty secret,’ she said. ‘All the Axxa who oppose the War – I guess the army lock ’em up here.’ She glanced back into the gloom. ‘As for those Humans, they must be captured Shadow Guards. Prisoners of war.’
Meanwhile, Frollix was talking to some Axxa prisoners sitting near him. There was a seriousness about Frollix that Lucky had never seen in his friend before. ‘Some of the people in these caves came from the Aquarius Nebula,’ he told Lucky and Bixa. ‘I need to find them. I need to hear their stories, to understand what happened there.’
‘Then I’ll come with you,’ said Bixa.
‘And I – I have to find my father,’ said Lucky. ‘He must be here, somewhere . . .’
They left Mystica and Nox in the care of their fellow Axxa prisoners. Frollix and Bixa headed in one direction; Lucky went the other. He made his way through the cavern, picking a path through clusters of people.
He found a group of Humans in a corner, packed in tight, looking down with sunken eyes. From the smells, he could tell they hadn’t washed for a long time. The men were unshaven, their beards bushy; the women’s hair was tangled and wild. It was shocking to see them like that. Could these really be the people he feared so much?
‘Are you Shadow Guards?’ he asked them.
‘We used to be,’ said one, cowering away from him. ‘Please don’t hurt us . . .’
‘Shdw Grds,’ said another, shivering.
‘Nthng mttrs,’ croaked a third, in a broken-sounding voice. ‘Nthng mttrs ny mr.’
Lucky shuddered. Some of these people had the Living Death so badly, they couldn’t even speak properly. They were painfully thin, like they hadn’t eaten for far too long – yet they didn’t seem to care. They just lay there, as if dissolving.
‘I’m looking for Major Dashwood,’ he told them. ‘Has anyone seen him?’
‘Dashwood? He was down that way . . .’
Lucky’s heart beat faster. So his father was here. In these very caves. Maybe only a few steps away – the man he’d crossed a galaxy to find . . .
He picked up his pace as he pressed on through the cavern, past bound and chained prisoners of war. ‘I’m looking for Major Dashwood!’ he called as he went. No one answered. ‘Major Dashwood?’ he shouted, louder now.
But still no response.
‘Major Dashwood?’ called Lucky, beginning to panic.
‘Who’s there?’ came a weak voice.
Lucky squinted through the bodies, through the dark blue gloom, into the shadows –
– and found himself looking at the face that had watched over his whole childhood. The man with the moustache, in his starship commander’s uniform.
The man looked very different now. He was still handsome, but he had aged so much. His uniform was torn to tatters. There were deep lines scored on his face, and marks of brutality on his body. It was almost impossible to imagine this man smiling.
But it was him, Lucky was sure of it. He hesitated a moment, his heart beating hard. He felt as if his whole life had been leading up to this moment.
‘Are you – are you Major Dashwood?’ he asked at last.
‘Yes, I am,’ said the man, peering up at him from the icy ground. ‘And who are you?’
‘I’m Lucky. I – I’m your son.’
Major Dashwood looked bewildered. ‘My son?’
‘And you’re my father.’ The words began to pour out of Lucky as the feelings welled up inside. ‘I’ve come such a long way to find you, and I’ll take care of you, don’t worry, I’ll rescue you, I’ll get you out of here. But I need to know everything about myself – who I really am, why I’m like this—’
But Major Dashwood was shaking his head. ‘I’m not your father, young man,’ he said. ‘You’re Axxa. I’m Human. We’re different.’
‘No!’ said Lucky, ripping out the contact lenses, unbraiding his horns of hair. ‘This is all just a disguise – it’s not real. I’m Human, like you!’
‘But I can’t be your father,’ the man said. ‘I never had any children.’
‘You didn’t?’ Lucky bit his lip. ‘But you’re in the vidpic,’ he insisted. ‘With my mother and me. I was a baby – you were smiling at me, by the Aquarius Nebula—’
Major Dashwood’s eyes widened. ‘Just a moment . . . You’re Diana’s son?’
‘Yes!’ Lucky paused, heart on a knife edge. ‘At least, I think so; my mother never told me her real name. But she called herself Diana Ashbourne.’
‘That name was my idea!’ the Major said. ‘I thought it up when I helped her escape.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes so he could see Lucky more clearly. ‘Diana’s son? How extraordinary . . . No, I am certainly not your father. I was only a friend of your mother’s. We were Shadow Guards together. I did everything I could to help her. But where is she?’
Lucky looked down. Couldn’t answer. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of water dripping echoed in the caves.
‘Oh,’ said Major Dashwood. ‘I am . . . so sorry . . .’
Lucky bit his mouth, until he could taste salt blood and burning. ‘So – you’re really not my father?’
‘Of course not. Why ever did you think I was?’
‘That’s what she told me. She never talked about you much . . . but she loved that vidpic. It was always on our screens.’
‘Is that so?’ Major Dashwood looked down at the icy rock beneath him.
Lucky was beginning to shake. ‘So it was just another lie – like everything else?’
‘Oh, I wish I was your father,’ the Major sighed. It sounded like it came from the depths of his being, and his breath made a tiny cloud of condensation in the freezing air. ‘I loved her, you know. I would’ve done
anything for Diana. But she never thought of me that way. She loved someone else.’
‘Who?’
‘Your father, of course. But she never told me who he was. She was always rather mysterious about it. All I know is, she was desperate to get away at the end – from him, from the government, from everything. And she was right to get out. This war has made fools of us all. The things I’ve seen and done, since she left; I wish I could forget . . .’ He shook his head violently, and covered his face with thin, bony hands. He turned away from Lucky, eyes clenched shut, and sat there in the shadows, shivering. ‘Please – enough of these questions. Leave me be.’
Lucky stared at him, stunned. He could not believe it.
He’d done the impossible. At a cost so great he could not bear to think of it, he’d found Charon. He’d found Major Dashwood.
And yet it was all for nothing.
All of it, everything he’d been through, meant nothing. His whole life, his childhood, his most precious memories and beliefs: everything was a lie.
Why had his mother felt the need to lie to him about everything – why?
And if his father wasn’t Major Dashwood – then who was?
He sat there in silence, hoping the Major would speak to him again. But the Major looked like he might never speak again.
The only sound Lucky could hear was water, dripping in the distance. He peered around, and saw a little rivulet rolling down the cavern’s sides. The ice itself seemed to be weeping.
Then he heard the voices of his friends coming towards him, and a wave of comfort washed through him. It was so good to see them. What would he ever do without them?
‘Lucky! You OK?’ said Bixa. She and Frollix came out of the dark blue gloom, and peered down at Major Dashwood. ‘Is that him? You found him?’
Lucky shook his head. ‘It’s Major Dashwood. But he – he’s not my father. He was just my mother’s friend. They were Shadow Guards together.’
‘Doesn’t look so scary now, does he?’ mused Bixa. ‘None of them do.’
Major Dashwood did not respond, or make the slightest sign that he was listening. He just sat there in silence, shivering.
‘I’m sorry,’ Lucky told his friends. ‘I’ve brought us here for nothing.’ He looked down at the ice in misery. ‘Did you find what you were looking for, at least?’
‘Very few people survived the catastrophe in the nebula,’ said Frollix. ‘I can’t make sense of their stories. They’re all talking about that strange shadow we saw in space. They say it created the Wolf That Eats the Stars. They say this Wolf devoured the Aquarius Nebula, and it’s going to destroy the whole galaxy—’
‘Yes,’ murmured Major Dashwood, to everyone’s surprise. His eyes were open again, and they were filled with dread. ‘I was there. I saw it all.’
‘You saw the nebula when it died?’ said Frollix. ‘Please – tell me what happened.’
The Major glanced sharply up at the ceiling. A vidcam whirred there above their heads. He waited for its gaze to move on before he replied, and when he did, it was in a whisper. ‘I don’t know if they can hear us, but these secrets are not for their ears. Only yours.’ He glanced at Lucky. ‘It’s only right that you should know the truth. After all, that nebula was your mother’s favourite place in the whole galaxy. It’s where you were born – did she ever tell you that?’
Lucky shook his head glumly. What could this matter now?
‘She would’ve hated us for what we did,’ the Major went on. ‘Because we were the ones who did it. Humanity. We destroyed the nebula.’
‘But – why?’ said Frollix. ‘Why would anyone do a thing like that?’
‘We needed to harvest the energy of the stars, to power our civilization, and help us fight the War,’ said the Major. He straightened his tattered uniform and sat up smartly, as if remembering better days. ‘We developed a secret new technology. Dark Matter technology: like a Dark Matter bomb, but much more powerful. We call it the Starburner. It cuts into the heart of a star, breaking apart the connections that hold stars together, making them release all their power – so we can siphon that power off, channelling it anywhere we choose. Without it, we could never maintain the Spacewall.’
Lucky’s scalp prickled with horror. ‘The Spacewall? Oh, no – is that how you power it? By killing stars?’
‘We had to keep Humanity safe! And besides, we tested the Starburner on one of the smallest stars in the nebula, far from any population centres. It should have been safe; it should have benefited everyone . . . but things did not go as we planned. As the Dark Matter connections unravelled, something strange and terrible was unleashed. Something we did not expect. No matter how you looked at it, your mind couldn’t get a grip on it. Your eyes kept sliding away.’
‘I’ve seen something like that!’ said Bixa. ‘It was on Scorpio, just after the Dark Matter bomb, at the centre of the wheel. It was so weird, I thought I was imagining it . . .’ She turned to Lucky. ‘Did you see it too?’
‘Yes,’ he said, skin crawling at the memory. ‘I did. And I think I might’ve seen it again, somewhere . . . But what is it?’
‘Nothing,’ whispered Major Dashwood, his eyes sunken, hollow, haunted. ‘Absolute Nothing. It’s the void that lies behind all reality. The negation of all things; the force that will one day destroy everything. This is what lies at the heart of a black hole. And that is what we saw when we killed the star. A black hole.’
Lucky shivered.
‘But don’t black holes destroy everything around them?’ Bixa asked the Major. ‘If you were close enough to see one, why didn’t it destroy you too?’
‘I wish it had,’ he replied. ‘But black holes are made from the bodies of dead stars. The bigger the star, the bigger the black hole. The star we destroyed made a small one; it collapsed rapidly, and we were distant enough to escape it. Yet in the brief moment it existed, it was still strong enough to devour the entire nebula.’
‘The Wolf That Eats the Stars!’ gasped Frollix. The blue fire sparked in his eyes. ‘But . . . if the Wolf is a black hole, how can you fight a thing like that?’
‘You can’t.’ Major Dashwood covered his face with his hands, trying in vain to close out a sight he could never forget. ‘If you’ve seen a Dark Matter bomb, scale it up a billion times, and you’ll understand why. You see, Dark Matter bombs damage the fabric of spacetime just enough to reveal the merest glimpse of the void. Everyone who sees it feels profound despair. The mind retreats from the horror, and turns in on itself. Nothing matters any more. Everything seems meaningless. This may happen at once, or it may take years; you may recover from it, or you may not; but sooner or later, you will suffer the Living Death.’
Lucky looked around the caves, at all the people with black-hole eyes.
‘The Captain!’ breathed Bixa. ‘He flew through Dark Matter bombs when he saved us – remember, Frollix? Maybe he got the Living Death all those years ago, and he’s been fighting it ever since. But something must’ve pushed him over the edge—’
‘Aquarius.’ Frollix shook his head grimly. ‘I tried to stop him, but he was looking right into the star as it flashed.’
‘Aquarius?’ gasped Major Dashwood. ‘Please tell me they’re not using the Starburner on Aquarius itself?’
‘It’s going supernova right now,’ said Lucky, his mind flinching at the memory of the dying star’s screams. ‘That’s where we saw the Starburner. And . . . I think that was where I saw the Nothing again . . .’
Horror warped Dashwood’s features. ‘Before I was captured, I told them not to use it again – I warned them of the dangers! If a massive star like Aquarius dies before its time, the resulting black hole would be so vast, nothing could possibly escape! It would be the end of all worlds. The end of all stars. The end of everything.’
‘That was Gala’s prophecy,’ said Bixa. ‘If Aquarius goes, everything goes.’
‘It doesn’t have to happen!’ cried Major Dashwood. A last desperate hope flickered
across his face. ‘If only Thorntree and Theobroma would talk to each other, and stop this senseless war. If only they would make peace.’ He bit his lip, shook his head. ‘But . . . how can there be peace? No one will make the first move. No one will back down.’ With a deep, deep sigh, he shut his eyes, and his body began to shiver and shake in the cold blue light. ‘No,’ he said. ‘There is no hope. The end is coming, and we cannot stop it. Death would be a mercy now.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
They trudged back through the freezing cold caves in silence, and sat with Mystica and Nox in the overwhelming gloom. There was nothing left to say. They were each lost in their own thoughts, their own private hell.
Lucky had never felt more hopeless. He thought he’d known bad times before, but this was the worst it had ever been.
He shivered. He was so cold. A deadly cold that sapped his will to live—
But wait. One side of his body wasn’t so cold. In fact, it felt warm. And it was getting warmer every moment.
Fumbling with the electrocuffs, he twisted round to touch the side of his coat. The pocket felt positively hot. He peered down at it, and was startled to see a fiery glow streaming up from the opening.
Quickly, he emptied the pocket out onto the frozen ground –
– and from it tumbled a tiny chick. It was smaller than the palm of his hand, but it was complete and intact. It stood there, staring at him with wide-open eyes. Its plumage shone with crimson gold light, stunning against the cold blue ice.
A phoenix.
‘Bazooka?’ he breathed.
The tiny bird blinked. She tipped her head to one side, as if she was trying to remember something. She flexed her beak, still not quite able to speak.
‘Ba – Ba – Ba—’ she squeaked, in a minuscule voice.
‘Bazooka!’ he said.
She hopped up and perched on his shoulder, glowing like a little sun. Radiant with heat and light, she warmed the glacial gloom that surrounded them.
