Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy

by Christopher L. Anderson

  Squawking in pain the bird flapped wildly away. Laboriously it tried to gain altitude, but blood and entrails streamed from the wound. Slowly it sank to the trees below and finally crashed into the upper canopy.

  It struggled feebly for half an hour before a disturbance in the trees caught Alexander’s attention. A flurry of mantises boiled up through the canopy and immediately attacked the wounded animal. The fight was brief and one sided. Razor sharp mandibles quickly cut up the corpse, and the insects took it, piece by piece, into their shadowy realm. The display was sobering, but also enlightening. It took the mantis some time to find the stricken bird. It was very possible that his encounter with them was bad luck, and not due to the canopy being infested with the creatures. It was a point he’d remember, but it didn’t make him any keener on returning to the trees.

  The chore of self protection complete, Alexander turned to more mundane matters. He used the gun to start a fire and cook the snake meat. The automaton was right, the Banthror was unpalatable. He tossed the greasy strip of meat into the forest. The snake, on the other hand, was fine. The meat, once cooked, reminded him of something not quite like chicken. He washed it down with rainwater, and pondered his next move.

  The cliff hole was fine for a night, or an emergency, but if he was going to spend and extended period of time on the planet he needed something more permanent. A cave or grotto that was defensible would be perfect. He expected to find such a place, if it existed, near the river. The river in its rush from the hills might very well have cut many such places. So, throwing the Banthror hide over his shoulder, the smell of which he was mercifully unaware, he quit his sanctuary.

  Predictably, the automaton waited for him outside. He glanced at the metallic ball with ill concealed contempt. “Well, what clever remarks have you for me this morning? Will I have to put up with you every day from now to eternity?”

  “Eternity is a long time relatively speaking, though on Pantrixnia we measure it in decurns, at the most.”

  “We’ll see,” Alexander replied. With a parting growl he grabbed a vine and climbed up to the top of the cliff. The cliff itself was a massive shelf of broken rock which ran towards the river. Behind was dense jungle leading into a craggy series of broken hills. He set off at a good pace across the edge of the cliff and headed toward the river. The cliff gradually sank towards the jungle floor but streams from the hills carved sheer chasms which lay directly across his path. His only choice was to climb down the cliff and back into the jungle. When he came to the first chasm, this time from below, he explored it. Unfortunately, there were no caves or cracks that would provide more suitable shelter than he already had.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “A hotel,” was his terse reply.

  He continued to work his way towards the river, poking into every chasm he came across. The small streams wound their way into the jungle, fed by the torrential runoff from the heights, but none of them provided suitable shelter, although one gave him his biggest surprise of the day.

  It was a rather wide chasm, surrounded by sheer black cliffs thirty meters high. Vines and creepers gave it an ancient appearance. A clear stream bubbled out of the center from an oval pool at the end. The back of the canyon echoed with the rush of an energetic waterfall. It was a pleasant backdrop to the otherwise deserted place. There was unfortunately no cave behind the waterfall, only a shallow scoop in the cliff. It was a pleasant enough, though, and as it was empty of anything else he took it to be the perfect place to bath. The pool of water was only a couple of meters deep at most, and he could see the bottom. There was nothing lethal waiting for him in the water, at least nothing he could see, so he shrugged off his weapons and armor.

  The armor was a one piece coverall that included boots and gloves as well as integrated armor plates, so it went on and off quickly. Underneath he wore only a light coverall. He took that off, washing it at the edge of the pool, and then laying it by his weapons to dry. Then he showered under the waterfall.

  The automaton hovered nearby. “You wouldn’t have any soap would you?”

  “No, Alexander of Terra. We don’t provide our participants with anything other than what they carry with them. The vast majority have no need of such things.”

  “The vast majority, are you telling me that I may meet up with someone else in this place?”

  “Oh, don’t be foolish. The longest period of survival on record for Pantrixnia is six decurns. I understand the odds makers are giving you a fifty percent chance on making it three decurns, which is very respectable.”

  “Three days, that doesn’t sound very good to me.”

  “The odds would probably improve if you weren’t so reckless.”

  “You usually mean something gruesome when you make a comment like that,” Alexander said, taking it seriously and ending his shower.

  Hurriedly donning his wet armor and strapping on his weapons Alexander started back up the canyon. The place lost its innocence. Now it was a trap whose only escape was its entrance, and the precarious vines that hung over the edge of the cliff.

  That thought, of course, triggered his fear into reality.

  A tremor shook the ground, and a familiar snort rolled along the walls of the canyon. He cursed to himself. A quick glance revealed no reachable vines in this end of the canyon. The canyon itself made a dogleg to the north, so the entrance was hidden from him, and he from it. The closest vines were on the south wall, in full view of the entrance. Carefully, but quickly, he went to the curved edge and peered around the corner.

  It was the Tyrannosaurus, of course. The huge carnivore stopped twenty meters into the canyon and sniffed at the ground. He cursed again. The vines were twenty meters from him, the Tyrannosaurus maybe forty. He’d never win that race.

  Back up the canyon he went. There was no better place to hide than just behind the waterfall. It would obscure him from sight and hopefully cover his scent. There was nothing else he could do.

  Alexander took out his rifle, set it on full power and stepped behind the waterfall. He stood stock still on the slick rock with his back to the slimy cliff wall. In the midst of the spray he waited. After what seemed an hour he saw movement through the cascade.

  The Tyrannosaurus stalked heavily up the canyon. He could feel its progress as easily as he could see it. It stopped once, and again sniffed at the stones, but only for a moment. Then it growled irritably and walked straight towards the waterfall. It waded through the pool, seeming to be in no hurry. The creature’s entire demeanor indicated a complete lack of concern or interest in the strange scent it picked up; rather it just seemed to be weary after a long day and somehow pleased to be back in its private lair.

  The Tyrannosaurus halted in the pool with the cool water rising to its belly, and Alexander watched with a curiosity mixed with awe as it dipped its enormous bulk into the water and bathed. The Tyrannosaurus was obviously enjoying itself. It snorted and sighed as it wormed its way around the pool, at one point scratching its back against a familiar and well-placed rock. For a while it just lay still, head resting on the cool rock of the bank, until Alexander thought it was asleep. He began to wonder about the possibility of escape when it raised its massive head and looked around.

  Alexander stiffened. The Tyrannosaur’s head moved around as if watching something, but he couldn’t see from his vantage point what that might be. The Tyrannosaurus itself was large enough so that he could gauge its actions from behind the imperfect screen of water, but he saw little else. The head followed the hidden object to his right and growled. Anger made the cords stand out in Alexander’s neck when he caught a glimpse of the automaton whirring around the canyon. The automaton flew behind the waterfall, hovered for a moment above his contorted features and then flew off again.

  The Tyrannosaurus got up. The head followed the automaton into the sky. It expressed its irritation with a raspy bark, and another discontented snort. Alexander watched in horror as the huge carnivore stalked thro
ugh the pool and up to the waterfall. Without hesitation it put its two meter head into the cascade of water.

  CHAPTER 31: Alexander, the Galactic Spectacle

  The sharp intake of Nazeera’s breath was clearly audible in the Assemblage chamber. She glanced around to see if her colleagues noticed her attention. No, all eyes were on the huge screens that showed Alexander retreating back into the trap that was the Tyrannosaur’s canyon and attempting to hide under the waterfall. Only one set of eyes, bright with malignant intent, watched her; the sneering glance of her husband, Bureel.

  “It seems that my challenge may go unfulfilled after all,” he leered smoothly.

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Bureel,” she whispered. “It would be too dangerous for you to face him alone and on equal terms.”

  “Careful, my dear wife,” he told her. “My patience is short. It would be a severe blow to my heart if I thought your interests in the Terran were greater than those of Chem. I would have no choice but commit the sad duty of exposing you before your peers.”

  “If I connect you to last night’s assassination attempt you’ll join Alexander on Pantrixnia; and woe to you if he finds you before the scavengers do!”

  “Hardly likely, seeing as I’m in charge of the investigation,” Bureel smiled. “Don’t worry, Nazeera of the Triumvirate, I’ve already got some suspects in mind—peaceniks, desperately trying to halt your push to war and glory! Have no fear, even should they succeed I will carry your banner forward.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Bureel.”

  “Any risk is worth the prize I’m after,” he told her, and then his eyes turned to slits of displeasure as her brother approached them. “Well, well, if it isn’t Nazar. Your service in the government’s counter-terrorism corps apparently went unnoticed by the assassins—how fortunate for Chem.”

  “Meaning you didn’t expect me to interfere with your little scheme, Bureel?” Nazar whispered, nodding to several of his peers.

  “It seems they, whoever they are, miscalculated,” Bureel noted. “I’ll make sure they don’t do it again—try to deprive Chem of you or your inestimable sibling, that is.”

  “Bureel, you cold calculating worm I never thought even you were capable of such a despicable act!” Nazeera trembled in cold rage.

  “Why Nazeera, I’m shocked insinuation. It is doubtless your concern for the Terran’s trials that has you upset. Things have grown rather stale for the moment on Pantrixnia, and there is an alarmingly small amount we can gleam from things. I shall leave you to calm yourself.”

  Nazeera fumed and Bureel slunk away with an evil smile. Nazar put a finger to her lips, “Careful Nazeera, don’t worry yourself; I’ve put my people on his people. We should have ample warning the next time he tries something.” Nazar turned to the screen to watch the Tyrannosaurus bathing in the pool. “How are things going? Is the day so uneventful that the Assemblage is watching a carnivore take a bath?”

  “He’s behind the waterfall, Nazar.”

  “Alexander? Oh my, how did he get there?”

  Nazeera explained the sequence of events to Nazar, who could only shake his head. Suddenly a gasp and a rumbling murmur in the Assemblage caught their attention.

  They turned back to the screen. The images came directly from the automaton, which was hovering overhead unobtrusively. Now it buzzed the resting Tyrannosaurus, flitting about its head. The carnivore blinked in irritation, and followed the path of the little metal ball. With a groan it rolled its heavy bulk out of the water and shook.

  “What’s going on?” Nazeera wondered.

  The ball’s commentary explained it. “Apparently the Assemblage is curious to see how the Terran is reacting to this stressful situation. By order of Nazeera of the Triumvirate we are going to get a look at the Terran as he attempts to elude the greatest carnivore the galaxy has ever known!”

  “What? Who dares usurp my name,” Nazeera breathed, and all eyes of the Assemblage turned to her, including those of the Elder. She fought for self control, and just about lost, when the soothing voice of her husband announced his return.

  “Your pardon, my dear wife,” he whispered venomously. “I felt it necessary to insulate you from your own emotions; you’ve been far too open with them thus far. Members were beginning to talk. Bringing our friend’s hiding place to the attention of the carnivore was genius. It should quell any rumors of a soft spot in your heart for this enemy of Chem. Don’t you agree?”

  Nazeera shook with an absolute and helpless rage. Her nails dug into her own fists, and blood dripped to the floor. Bureel turned with an amused smile and left his wife with images of murder filling her beautiful head.

  Nazar touched her and motioned to the screen. The automaton floated behind the waterfall for a moment, capturing the furious face of Alexander. His eyes burned like green witch fire. There was a palpable silence in the Assemblage. Then the automaton drew back through the water and rose into the air with the comment, “I don’t think the Terran appreciated our curiosity, and you can see why!”

  As the automaton withdrew to its former position the Tyrannosaurus stalked to the waterfall and poked its head through. The Assemblage gasped, and again all eyes turned to Nazeera. She stood stone faced as the automaton said, “That looks like it will just about do it. A disappointing end to a noble effort, I must say.”

  #

  “Why the cold blooded bastards,” Admiral Augesburcke exclaimed. He was watching the pirated Chem broadcast in the CODOTS chambers at the United Nations building. “It wasn’t enough that they put him in that infernal place, but now to goad a Tyrannosaurus Rex after him. My god! Who is this Nazeera of the Triumvirate? I’ll remember her name to be sure!”

  Augesburcke’s swarthy visage creased into furrows of disdain as he witnessed Alexander’s plight. He pulled at his thick mustache and directed his remarks at Doctor Hashimoto.

  “It is certainly not consistent with a “hands off” approach to experimentation,” Hashimoto said. “I don’t know how they expect to get accurate results if they’re manipulating things.”

  “They’re not looking for results,” Augesburcke told him. “The damn thing’s a spectacle, it’s purely for entertainment. If this Alexander fellow does well enough they’ll probably want to use Terrans as gladiators down there!”

  “Many of us wouldn’t fare so well,” Doctor Hashimoto said.

  “I can’t disagree with you there, Doctor.” Augesburcke turned to his aid, and asked, “Colonel Sandberg, any luck on who this fellow is?”

  The Colonel responded in the negative.

  “Keep them working on it,” he said brusquely, and then he moved on to the next item on his mental agenda. “Have we gotten the hourly updates yet? Let me have them.” The Admiral almost tore them out of the Colonel’s hands. He scanned the reports, muttering aloud, and turning through the pages with a vengeance.

  “Superluminal trials with the Missouri completed this morning, out to Alpha Centauri and back in a little over three days. What would Nimitz have thought? He took the Jap surrender on that deck, and now it goes out to Alpha Centauri and back!”

  He looked up; belatedly realizing his comment attracted the attention of his colleague, Doctor Hashimoto. Two weeks past he might have made the same comment on purpose, but today he said, “My apologies, Doctor, the reference was uncalled for. I suppose we all have some growing up to do.”

  “No need, Admiral,” Doctor Hashimoto replied, “I believe we all, as you say, have some growing up to do before we can properly be called “Terrans.” Concerning the gunnery trials, everything checked out surprisingly well on the Iowa, engines, scanners, and weapon systems all performed up to or in excess of specifications.”

  “Excellent! I especially enjoyed the video feed of the blaster tests. Now that is what a broadside should look like!”

  “I’m afraid the astronomers won’t be very happy,” Doctor Hashimoto said. “We left some good sized holes in Charon, Pluto’s moon.
We got good pictures though.”

  “This makes all the difference in the world. I’d much rather defend Terra in open space than from the ground. It’s amazing that this crazy scheme of ours is actually working. Who would have ever thought a salt water navy could fly, not to mention go into space? Crazy idea,” Augesburcke shook his hoary head in wonder, belying the fact that he’d originated the idea.

  “Still, it looks as though folks are getting the hang of this. We expect three more launchings today, five tomorrow, twelve the next, and so on. We’ve got enough equipment for three hundred ships, and if we can get the Scythians moving we could add another twelve hundred, if we had the ships.”

  “The Scythians assure us that another convoy is on the way,” Doctor Hashimoto told him.

  “Yeah, like I really trust those bastards,” Augesburcke mused, and then his aide handed him a file. “We have something? Is this our boy? Excellent, let’s see here, Alexander Thorsson. Here’s something you don’t see every day: he was an NFL nose-tackle, then an Air Force pilot, and now he’s an airline pilot. I should say he was an airline pilot. What do you call what he’s doing now? I suppose he’s the poor sidekick on some form of galactic “Wild Kingdom,” but I’ll be damned if he can expect Marlin Perkins to lift him out of there! This would be a helluva thing to put on a resume. What else has he done?”

  Augesburcke perused the record, and a frown spread across his face. Eventually he put the record down. “I can’t figure this, Colonel. This man had an outstanding record. Why did the American Air Force let him go?”

  “Didn’t make the next rank,” the Colonel told him. “Though from what I saw there was nothing in his record to warrant that.”