The Last Starfighter

by Alan Dean Foster

  He tried to throw himself clear of the sleeping bag, only to find himself held in check by a pair of clutching hands.

  “Jack,” the sultry voice beneath him moaned, “Jack, for God’s sake, not now!”

  “Dammit, Cindy, let go of me!”

  “That’s not what you were saying a minute ago.”

  “Let me go, Cindy!” It was amazing how strong those perfectly manicured fingers had suddenly become. He tried to stand. The bag rolled. Cindy started laughing as they headed for the lake, Jack Blake’s piteous cries fading as his mouth filled with sand.

  “Hey! Come back! Scratch that paint and you’re dead, Rogan! You hear me, you’re dead . . . Cindy, let go of me!”

  Activity of a different kind reigned aboard the ships of the Ko-Dan armada. Final preparations were underway. The crews worked in silence, speaking only to give or acknowledge commands. This was to be a landmark day in the history of the Empire, and they were privileged to be a part of it. Their names would be writ large in the history of Ko-Dan expansion and conquest. No soldier could wish for more.

  In the command room a subofficer turned from his console. “All ships are at battle ready, Commander. Probes indicate there has been inadequate reestablishment of the energy shield around Rylos. We are ready to break through.”

  Xur smiled, spoke the single word uppermost in his mind for many years. “Invade.”

  Next to him one of the senior Ko-Dan aides spoke to Kril. “Commander, the Xurian ships have not yet answered the invasion code.”

  Kril considered. “That’s odd. They were supposed to wait for our call while concealed on one of the large asteroids in this area. They are to precede the armada in the hope that they can convince the government to surrender peacefully and accept Xur as regent.”

  “That is how I understand it to be also, Commander. The lack of a reply suggests some difficulty.”

  “What difficulty?” Xur’s interruption was an unpardonable discourtesy which the weary Kril accepted silently. “The Frontier is nothing but an empty phrase now that the shield has been destroyed. As I said, the moon of Galan is eclipsed. The Starfighters are dead. Invade!”

  Kril thought further. If anything went wrong, he was the one who would have to answer with his eyes to the Imperial War Staff, not this Rylan harlequin.

  “We should wait for word from your people, Xur. It would be best if Rylos could be taken without fighting. It would make the other members of the League see the hopelessness of resistance.”

  “Where is your love of battle?”

  “My love is for my Emperor, for my family and for those who serve under me, Xur. And for conquest, yes, but at the cheapest price obtainable. As for attacking at the moment of the Galan eclipse, surely you can forego that juvenile dramatic gesture?”

  “I will forego nothing! This was planned and timed to the minute. I will tolerate no delay.”

  “Where are your ships?”

  “I don’t know. What does it matter? Delayed, perhaps, or made suddenly afraid by your fleet’s demonstration of power. They may be unsure of you even if they remain sure of me, and are simply waiting for your armada to approach within attack range of Rylos.”

  “How brave they are,” Kril observed sardonically. “Nevertheless, what you say makes some sense, and I am directed to obey your orders.”

  “Then invade. Now.”

  Kril executed a reluctant gesture and addressed his chief communications officer. “All ships forward at half sublight cruising speed, with all energy probes and detectors on. If there’s anything larger than an egg out there traveling in anything other than a standard orbit, I want to know about it immediately! Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Commander,” communications replied instantly.

  “The same thing goes for any object stable in relation to planets or other bodies that is generating more than a minimal amount of radiation.”

  “There may be cargo vessels or transports in the area on their way insystem,” the communications officer suggested.

  “If they’re heading outsystem we don’t need for them to give reports of what’s happening here, and if they’re going toward Rylos it’s their misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “You wish any such vessels detected to be taken in tow, Commander?”

  Kril gestured negatively. “I don’t wish to waste the time. If they do not reply to any of the Xurian codes, they are to be destroyed.”

  “As you command.”

  Xur stood nodding nearby. He was watching the main viewscreen. It showed the starfield forward. In the center was the slowly enlarging sphere of Rylos.

  “That is more like what I expected from the Ko-Dan.”

  “I am glad you are pleased with my tactical decisions.” Kril was careful to keep his tone neutral.

  Grig fretted over the gunstar’s instrumentation, checking and rechecking every function. Alex could only wait, excited, nervous, but secure in the knowledge that he’d made the decision to fight. He let his fingers flutter over the fire controls, coming so close he could almost feel the smooth surfaces without actually touching them. His seat responded to the slightest movement of his body, always keeping him comfortable and in position.

  They waited motionless within the throat of the old volcano, all power off except for sensors and life support.

  “Here they come,” Grig finally announced.

  “How many?” Alex’s fingertips tingled as if they were asleep.

  “Twenty to thirty. Small fighters. Indications of more following. Many more.”

  “You’re not doing a lot for my confidence.”

  “Sorry. Should I lie to you, Alex? I’ve already told you what we’re up against. Remember, surprise will be worth a great deal.”

  “If we can pull it off.”

  “Yes. If we can pull it off.”

  They were on Alex’s screen now. He was counting the number of deadly shapes when something buzzed loudly on Grig’s console, making both of them start.

  “Snash!” Grig growled in frustration, banging one hand down on a panel. The buzzing and the flashing light that had accompanied it vanished.

  “What was that?”

  “Automatic engine check. Sounds periodically when the main drive is off. I forgot to shut it down.” He went quiet, then whispered (even though there was no reason to whisper), “One of them’s breaking off. I think it’s coming in for a closer look.”

  “Surely they didn’t pick up on anything as weak as that buzzing?” Alex found he was sweating.

  “Ko-Dan detectors are extremely sensitive. I’m sure they have orders to investigate the slightest disturbance.”

  “Why don’t we move back deeper inside?”

  Grig made a gesture of negativity and stared at his instruments. “Can’t now. Not without sending up an energy card announcing our presence to the whole armada.” He added hopefully, “Still, as you say, it lasted but an instant.”

  The curious Ko-Dan ship cruised low over the broken surface of the planetoid, the pilot watching his instruments intently. He had detected the barest flicker of energy. It had hardly been sufficient to activate his detectors. Now there was nothing. The little airless world below seemed as dead as the ages.

  He still conducted his survey with care, employing visual as well as electronic aids. Then his squadron commander called him, wanting to know what he was wasting his time with and why he was still out of formation. The pilot muttered a curse and accelerated to catch up. It would not do to be caught out of formation during the approach to Rylos. Orders were to put on the most impressive display possible to overwhelm the already half-beaten Rylans.

  “He’s gone,” Grig said softly. Alex let out a deep breath. “Good thing there’s not much gravity here or he might have spotted the debris from those Xurian ships you blasted. As it is, everything’s had time to drift off in a dozen different directions.” He smiled, a human gesture his stiff skin was not quite able to imitate properly.
r />   “There’s going to be a lot of debris floating around this sector before too long.”

  The police car ripped through brush with wild disregard for the large trees in its path. Finally it encountered one tree that refused to bend. The car banged to a halt in a rising ball of dust and dead leaves and was abandoned by its driver.

  The assassin dashed into a small clearing that was shaded from above by several much larger trees, running toward another parked vehicle. There were no wheels on this one and its range was considerably greater than that of the police cruiser. Distorted feet pounded the earth as their owner raced for his ship.

  Once safely inside, it let itself relax. The craft was small, but more than capable of resisting the minor projectile weapons utilized by the locals, and it had no intention of waiting around until the local military could be informed of its presence.

  Now it had ample time to compose a suitable message for its employers. The signal would be reduced to code and sent off to the nearest Ko-Dan relay. From there it would travel from relay to deep-space relay until it was picked up and decoded by the armada. That would put an end to its work here. It would leave for home, its assignment frustrated but its contract fulfilled by the explanatory message.

  Maggie clung to the overhead handle as the driver sent the careening pickup hurtling across the rough desert road with complete disregard for maintaining the integrity of the truck’s underbody. Or their own.

  “You’re a robot?”

  “A robot.” He searched Alex’s memory for additional references. “Like in the stories by Asimov. Like in the GM factory in Detroit. Like in the song by Styx. More complicated than any of those.”

  “A duplicate of Alex . . . I can see that, of course. Then . . . where’s Alex?”

  The Beta jerked a thumb upwards. “Out there.”

  Maggie looked ceilingward. “Out where? Up in a plane somewhere?”

  The Beta shook his head. “Considerably farther than that. Considerably farther than you can imagine.”

  “Alex . . . out in space. Is this for real?”

  “Yes! I’ve been trying to tell you, it’s all for real. Very real. Lethally real. Lethal to Alex if I can’t stop that assassin before he tells his superiors what I’ve just told you.”

  “Why would anyone want to assassinate Alex?”

  “Because he may be the key to saving galactic civilization as we know it.”

  Maggie thought a long while. “Alex? My Alex? Alex Rogan who has a hard time fixing a broken septic tank valve?”

  “The same,” the Beta told her. “Actually, that’s not such a bad analogy for the job he’s doing now.”

  “Then don’t talk, drive!”

  The Beta did not reply, though it wanted to. What did the young female think he was doing?

  “First attack wave closing on Rylos, Commander,” the communications officer announced.

  “Any signs of opposition?”

  “Nothing, Commander. Monitoring of surface transmissions indicates that the first wave has been detected by the Rylan authorities.”

  “Any reaction as yet?”

  The communications officer made some inquiries, waited, then replied with barely concealed delight. “Indications of general panic among the populace despite government assurances that all is under control. Also ultimatums directing us to turn back or be destroyed.”

  “They are down to their final bluff.” Kril permitted himself to relax. It was all but over.

  “You see?” Xur said triumphantly from nearby. “I told you. It’s been so long since the League has actually had to fight anyone that they’ve forgotten how to do it. That hidden base was their only source of resistance. All other weaponry is localized.” He sniffed disdainfully. “Police functionaries. Government security. Weaklings and cowards.”

  “I am pleased nothing has materialized to dispute the correctness of your information,” Kril said smoothly, “though I would still like to know what happened to your own ships.”

  Xur turned to stare hungrily at the screen. “When the time is right they’ll show themselves, you’ll see. Haven’t I been right about everything else so far? You worry too much, Kril.”

  “I am aware of that, Xur,” the Ko-Dan replied. “That is why I was made Commander.”

  Off to one side of the spacious command chamber the officer in charge of monitoring fleet communications was staring in confusion at his instruments. He ran the coded message back through the computer, assured himself of its accuracy, and decided it had to be turned over immediately. His superior accepted the transcription with the equivalent of a frown and reluctantly determined to present it to the Commander.

  He skirted the Rylan renegade and made his presence known.

  Kril turned to face him. “Yes, what is it?”

  “I would not interrupt your triumph if it were not a matter of some . . .”

  “Get to the point,” Kril said impatiently.

  “Yes, Commander.” The officer studied the message one last time. “We’ve picked up a signal on an emergency frequency. It’s been relayed quite a distance from a primitive world outside League and Ko-Dan boundaries. It comes from one of our ZZ-Designates.”

  They were interrupted. “I know what it concerns,” said Xur. “Remember that single small ship that jumped in supralight just before we destroyed the base on Rylos?”

  “Of course I remember.” Kril was furious at being treated like some green junior officer. One time this Rylan upstart was going to go too far, Imperial orders or no Imperial orders. “We put a lock on it and estimated its course, then sent Designates to check for activity indicating the presence of League technology at work on any inhabited worlds in line with that estimated course and the jump capability of a vessel that size. As you wished.” He faced the officer. “What of the message’s contents?”

  “Rather confusing, Commander,” the officer replied. “And brief.”

  “All Designates file brief reports,” Kril declared. “They are not utilized because of their ability to carry on lengthy conversations.”

  “No, Commander.” The officer swallowed. “The message from ZZ-Designate 61 says, ‘The last Starfighter . . .’ ”

  The Beta turned off the dirt road and started climbing a steep slope above the clearing, hoping to take the assassin by surprise. It might not be expecting any pursuit, but the Beta was taking no chances.

  As the truck bounced crazily over boulders and rills, the Beta held the wheel firmly in one hand while opening its stomach with the other. Maggie observed this bloodless operation with silent fascination. The Beta removed a small box no larger than a pack of cigarettes, stuck it beneath the pickup’s dashboard, and refastened its stomach. The box clung to the metal, a single red light glowing brightly on one side.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her teeth rattling.

  “A surprise for our friend below. Isn’t it your custom to give presents during the upcoming time you call Christmas?”

  She nodded. Actually she couldn’t do anything but nod, rough as the ride was. They had reached the top of the low ridge and were starting down the opposite side.

  “This will be an early present for our friend. When I give the word, you jump, okay?”

  “Do I have a choice?” The pickup was beginning to pick up speed as the Beta sent it rumbling down the rocky slope.

  The Beta indicated the metal box attached to the dash. “Not unless you want to be part of the surprise.”

  “I don’t think so. If this is going to help Alex . . .”

  The Beta nodded. Maggie put one hand on the door handle, keeping her other on the overhead grip, and waited anxiously for the robot’s command.

  At the last instant he shouted, “JUMP!” Without thinking, Maggie threw herself out the door, covering her face and rolling over a couple of times until coming to rest against a mercifully soft bush. She sat up fast.

  It occurred to her then that she hadn’t seen the Beta try to jump clear.

  Bel
ow, she could see the truck roar toward something shiny and strange of shape. The last seconds seemed to pass in slow motion, like something out of an old movie.

  The pickup smashed into the vessel concealed by the brush and exploded. The truck’s twin gas tanks erupted in concert with the robot’s mysterious metal box. The alien craft, which would have withstood the gasoline explosion easily, turned into a geyser of metal and metallic glass. The concussion knocked Maggie down. Among the vaporized contents of the spaceship were the remains of one very surprised alien killer.

  The gasoline and the surrounding vegetation continued to burn long after the ship had been destroyed. For the second time in as many minutes Maggie slowly picked herself off the ground. She wiped twigs and dirt from her legs. She was sore and bruised, but nothing was broken.

  She wished she could say the same for the Beta. He was down there, somewhere, in small pieces. He’d sacrificed himself to help Alex. Of course, he was only a machine. It wasn’t like he was a real person, was it?

  Well, was it?

  You can’t cry over a machine, she told herself. That would be silly. Beta would’ve thought it silly. So she didn’t, but she had to work hard to keep the tears back.

  She still didn’t understand what was going on, but she didn’t want to have to answer a bunch of awkward questions. The fire would bring out forestry service trucks, and Jack Blake would be coming along sooner or later, hot on the trail of his precious, missing pickup. She didn’t want to talk to Jack just now. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  She started back toward the trailer park—sore, confused and concerned.

  Just where was Alex?

  13

  “Well,” Kril said into the unexpected silence, “what’s the rest of the message?”

  “I’m afraid that’s all there is, Commander.” The communications officer was apologetic. “That much came in and then the transmission ceased.”

  “Could there have been a relay failure between here and this primitive system the report was being filed from?”

  The communications officer considered. “I do not think so, Commander. Because of the planned assault on Rylos and the rest of the League, all deep-space relays were performance checked just prior to the fleet’s departure. All were certified operational.”