Planet America s-2

by Mack Maloney

  This was the operations center for the second service of the Empire's triad, the Inner Defense Forces. More readily known as the Solar Guards, they were about half as big as the Space Forces and were responsible for security within the Pluto Cloud, as the boundary of the Earth's solar system was known.

  Or at least that's how it was supposed to be.

  Truth was, the Solar Guards could be found in just about every corner of the Galaxy, while many vessels of the Space Forces fleet spent their time on assignments closer to Earth, where most of the Empire's major repair and training facilities were located. This disparity was one of the great ironies of the Empire, and it had been like this for longer than anyone could remember.

  To say the two services did not get along was a ridiculous understatement. Their top officers never communicated with each other. They used different types of weapons and flew different types of starships. They had different orders of rank and even different style uniforms. The Space Forces wore blue with yellow trim; the Solar Guards wore black with red. Their missions were nothing alike. The Solar Guards were like an army of policemen. They cruised the Galaxy, working on countless investigations, some of them legitimate (like tracking down tax outlaws and criminal armies), but many not. As a result, the Solar Guards conducted their own wars and the Space Forces conducted theirs. The two services had never fought side by side against a common enemy.

  The Solar Guards had been established just three hundred years before — or so they claimed. And while they boasted fewer men in arms than the Space Forces, their troops were considered more specialized, better trained, and more ruthless. They were also much closer to the inner workings of the Imperial Palace, the ultimate seat of power. While the Space Forces were never shy in making their views clear to the Emperor, by tradition they usually did so through normal channels of protocol. The Solar Guards, on the other hand, excelled in getting the Emperor's ear via back channels and well-practiced intrigues.

  A difference in philosophy fueled the main conflict between the services. The SG believed the Empire's best path to success was to reclaim as many of the Galaxy's planets as possible, as quickly as possible, and bring them into the Empire's fold. The Space Forces were dedicated to the same goal but believed the way to accomplish this was to go after the troublesome planets first — those inhabited by pirates, criminals, and other interstellar lowlifes — and bring the more peaceful, law-abiding planets back in gradually.

  So, it was not a question of expansion; that was everybody's objective. It was how quickly that expansion should be carried out.

  The Solar Guards ops building was almost always covered in shadow. Even now, in the dead of night, no lights illuminated its main entrance. Barely two dozen people were on duty inside, and none was working very hard. Unlike their SF rivals, SG commanders rarely reported in on a regular basis — not officially, anyway. Anything of any importance they always sent in deeply coded layers of biosecrecy, the so-called "brain-proof cryptics that very few people could read, least of all the building's night shift. So while any bubble noise being transmitted to this place during the night was probably coming from the darker places in the Galaxy, the handful of communications beams received were simply stored away to be read by others in the morning.

  Unlike the SF building, though, the Solar Guards had built a bunker below their ops center. It went down thirteen levels. In one section of the lowest level was a room restricted to everyone but a select few at the top of the Solar Guards' hierarchy.

  In this room there was an ultrasecret communications beam selector, one that was always set to the same atomic band. This apparatus worked even less frequently than those in the upper levels of this shadowy place. But a message had come in through it this night.

  It would make sense only to someone who understood exactly who was on the other end of the communicator.

  "Post-Fringe Five Mission, Day 3," the encoded message bubbles read. "Nothing new to report… "

  The Expeditionary and Exploratory Forces, known more simply as the X-Forces, was the third service of the Empire's trinity.

  It had about one-tenth the number of troops as the SF; way less than half that of the Solar Guards. The X-Forces' mandate was to fly to the Outer Fringe — meaning all arms of the galactic spiral — and identify those planets lost since the last Dark Age and even beyond. In many ways, they were the scouts before the cavalry. Any planets they did not reclaim themselves were left for the Space Forces. The X-Force's starships carried highly trained troops but also professional humanitarians, scientists, physicians, and representatives of the Empire's diplomatic corps. Very often the first time the people of a reclaimed world saw the Empire's banner it was painted on the side of an X-Forces vessel. While the SF and SG battled each other for influence both on Earth and throughout the Galaxy, the X-Forces went about their far-flung jobs somewhat quietly.

  As such, they had absolutely no political power anywhere in the Empire and least of all on the Imperial floating city.

  In fact, they didn't even have a building up there.

  All of the buildings immediately surrounding the Imperial Palace were brick-by-brick reconstructions of ancient dwellings found on Earth thousands of years before.

  There were twelve of them in all, their interiors full of intricately carved oak, one of the rarest commodities in the Galaxy. These buildings had very few windows and many were made of stained glass. Though elegant, this made the buildings unnaturally dark inside. Full of shadows and dimly lit hallways, they were also honeycombed with secret passageways, and, it was rumored, dungeons.

  These were the Holy Houses, the places where the Specials resided. And it was into a room on the top floor of one of them that Petz Calandrx suddenly popped in.

  He hadn't traveled so fast in years. One moment he was standing in his foyer talking to the spy; the next, he was here, in this dark place, his head throbbing with pain, his skin still emitting a greenish glow. He checked to make sure all of his vital parts had survived the transport process. They had, thank God. Then he studied his new surroundings. No windows, no furniture, not even a chair. He knew he was inside a Holy House though; the room's exquisite woodwork gave it away.

  But where was he exactly? Which house? Whose room? These things he didn't know.

  This had all happened so suddenly he'd not been given the opportunity to even change his clothes. Whatever member of the Imperial Family had summoned him, Calandrx would be greeting them in his smoking jacket and slippers!

  And what shape had he left his house in? Had he extinguished his reading candles before answering the fateful knock? He couldn't remember — not that it mattered. He was sure the spy was rummaging through his things at that very moment, doing what spies do. He just hoped the man would blow out all the candles before he left.

  Calandrx suddenly felt a bit claustrophobic. This room was very small by imperial standards. Why was he here? Who was he supposed to see? The Emperor? Hardly… O'Nay would not have gone through the trouble of sending a spy for him. He could have simply willed it into the wind, and Calandrx would have been standing before him instantly. The Emperor's wacky son was a more likely suspect. The kid was a royal fuckup, known as much for his inability to handle slow-ship wine as the disrespectful way he treated real women, a rarity throughout the Empire. He also loved Starfighters and in the past had approached Calandrx to talk tactics. But Calandrx had always put him off, having little desire to spend even a minute in the presence of such an idiot. Could this be the Prince's method of revenge?

  No, sending a spy did not seem like junior's style. A battalion of Earth Guards maybe. But not a spy.

  This really left only the Empress, who was just as nutty as her son and well-known for her love of intrigue. Calandrx felt a chill go through him. What would the Empress want with him? He had nothing to hide. Or did he?

  True, he was a man of honor and scruples, but that did not mean he hadn't slipped on occasion. Everyone had a bit of the rascal in him, especia
lly these days. He began worrying that perhaps one of his latest adventures might be coming back to haunt him.

  Suddenly there was a flash, and just like that, there were two more people in the room with him.

  They almost looked like twins. Both were stout but powerful men of middle age, with shiny bald heads and huge, drooping mustaches. Battle scars were prominent on their hands and faces. Their uniforms were black with gold collar badges. The double crosses of the X-Forces were emblazoned on their chests.

  The strange thing was, Calandrx knew them both. In fact, he was good friends with them. Their names were Erx and Berx. They were senior officers of the X-Forces and well-known in many parts of the Galaxy.

  And they were as surprised to see him as he was to see them.

  "Calandrx, our brother!" Erx cried. "They scooped you up, too?"

  "Yes — in my nightclothes yet…"

  "By a spy?" Berx asked. "With no explanation?"

  "The same," Calandrx replied. "That only deepens the mystery as to why we have been called here."

  Erx and Berx shook off the last of the green luminescence surrounding them, then began examining the room. They quickly took note of the woodwork, the shadows.

  "Is this really a Holy House that we've been delivered to?" Erx asked, going over a wood carving like a detective.

  "It is indeed," Calandrx said.

  "Whose is it, brother?" Berx asked him. "Have you noodled that out yet?"

  "My guess is the Empress," Calandrx whispered. "And to no good end, I fear."

  "You see nothing positive in this, brother?" Berx asked him worriedly.

  Calandrx shook his head. "I am no longer an expert in palace machinations. I just know they don't send out spies to summon people like us for any small reason."

  The three men looked at each other. There had been one episode of mischief among them lately. Could that be why they were here?

  "Where did you pop in from?" Calandrx asked them worriedly.

  "We've been in the secret court of inquiry for the past six weeks!" Berx exclaimed; he was usually the more excitable of the two.

  "Still?" Calandrx asked them. "That's way too long."

  Erx and Berx nodded glumly. The secret inquiry was looking into what happened during the battle of Zazu-Zazu. The tiny moon at the end of the Five-Arm had come very close to being destroyed by a very mysterious military force using weapons never seen in the Galaxy before. The battle was finally won by the moon's inhabitants after, ironically enough, the Solar Guards came to their rescue. But the mysterious enemy departed in a very strange spaceship, again, not of a type ever seen in the Galaxy.

  These were very disturbing events for the people at the top of the Empire. A number of bizarre episodes had been reported in various places around the Galaxy in the months leading up to Zazu-Zazu, but none so strange as the tiny war on the tiny moon so far out on the Fringe, you would fall off the edge if you went any farther.

  But the rub was this: The central character in all this had not been Calandrx or Erx or Berx, but Hawk Hunter. In fact, it was Erx and Berx who first found Hunter on the desolate planet of Fools 6, not quite a year before. That Erx and Berx were the last ones to see him before he went AWOL made them very suspicious in the eyes of the Empire's top inquisitors. That's why the investigation into Vaffaire Zazu-Zazu had been ongoing for so long.

  And Calandrx's involvement? He'd been instrumental earlier, by getting Hunter a spot in the most recent Earth Race, which the pilot won superbly, making Calandrx a pile of money. But the triumph also led to Hunter being commissioned by the X-Forces and sent into deep space, where he disappeared.

  "They keep asking us the same questions over and over," Erx was telling Calandrx now. "First, the interrogators from the Space Forces, then the Solar Guards, then the X-Forces. Once they seemed finished with us, they just start it all over again. We told them everything we know—"

  "But at some point it must end," Calandrx said. "Right?"

  Both men shrugged on cue. "Surely. But when it does, so what?" Erx said. "What will we have to do then?"

  Calandrx played upbeat. "You will go back to your duties, of course."

  But both men were immediately crestfallen.

  "That will be impossible, brother," Erx said. "Obviously you have not heard the latest news on our predicament?"

  Calandrx shook his head no.

  "They have barred us from flying in space," Berx replied, barely able to say the words. "No matter what happens in the inquiry, we've been grounded… permanently."

  Calandrx felt his heart sink. This was a blow he'd experienced himself some years ago. Grounded: It was a fate worse than death for most.

  "But that's ridiculous!" Calandrx roared. "With all your years of service? With all your battle decorations? With all you've given for the Emperor?" His voice was very loud — not a good thing, considering his current location. But he didn't care.

  "For what reason are you banished?" he asked them.

  Both men just shrugged.

  "We've seen too much? We know too much?" Erx replied. "Take your pick."

  On those words, the door suddenly opened, and two enormous Earth Guards walked in. They didn't speak; they rarely did. Instead, they simply indicated it was time to go. The three men gloomily trooped out.

  They were led down a long corridor, dark and brooding, with many locked, unmarked, ornately carved wooden doors on either side. There was no doubt about it now; they were in a building very close to the Imperial Palace. Calandrx took a sniff. He detected the unmistakable scent of Venusian perfume in the air. Not a good sign… O'Nay, the Empress and their son were all known to use the fragrance.

  They finally reached a huge black door located at the far end of the hallway. The air was especially thick with perfume here. One guard opened the door to reveal a room vast even by imperial standards. An entire forest of precious maple must have gone into the woodwork; the floor was dull with ancient metallic rugs. A huge fireplace dominated one side of the room. Several giant logs, precious oak, were roaring within.

  The guards nudged them inside and quickly shut the door-behind them. The first thing that went through Calandrx's mind was: This doesn't look like a torture chamber.

  But when the Empress was involved, who knew?

  That's when they looked to their right and saw, by the light of the fire, a diminutive figure dressed in white, sitting on a couch.

  All three men sighed with relief. This was not O'Nay, nor the Empress, nor the mindless Prince. It was, in fact, the fourth member of the Imperial Family, the sweet and beautiful Xara, Princess of the Galaxy.

  She looked up at them, and all three went to one knee immediately. Erx and Berx had never met the Princess formally before, and they'd certainly never seen her this up close. As a friend of her father's, Calandrx had spoken to Xara many times, but that was back when she was a little girl. Of course, all three had seen her from a distance over the years, but until that moment, never did they realize just how beautiful she was.

  To say she was just a smaller version of her mother was doing her an injustice. Though the Empress was regarded as a true galactic beauty, Xara was even more radiant, more angelic, more heavenly, and quite a bit younger. She was not yet twenty, of slight build, her hair luxuriously blond. It was hanging loose over her shoulders now, a real treat, as she rarely appeared in public without it being tied back somehow. She was wearing a simple, form-fitting white smock with a sash tied loosely just above her abdomen. She was barefoot.

  "Uncle Petz," she said with a sad smile. "It has been too long."

  "The years have been worth the wait as I now see how beautifully you've grown," Calandrx told her.

  She blushed and motioned them closer. The three men rose and slowly moved toward the couch. Calandrx introduced Erx and Berx, but the two men could barely speak.

  "I have heard about your exploits," Xara told the two explorers. "Our citizens are better for your service."

  Both men bowed deepl
y.

  "You honor us, my lady," Erx managed to croak.

  The fire crackled as another log materialized from nowhere and was added to the small blaze. An awkward moment came and went.

  Finally, Calandrx said, "My lady, excuse us, but we are a bit surprised that it was you who called us here."

  She pushed some hair back from her face.

  "I understand," she said. "And I'm the last one to indulge in such cloak-and-dagger stuff. But I'm afraid it was necessary. No one must know of our meeting like this."

  "And they will not," Calandrx assured her. Erx and Berx bowed in agreement as well.

  Again, the fire crackled.

  "So, we are here then, my lady," Calandrx said. "How can we help you?"

  Xara wiped her eyes. For the first time, Calandrx realized that she had been crying.

  "You are Hawk Hunter's closest friends," she began with trembling lips. "He told me so himself. That's why I must ask you. Have you heard from him… anything at all?"

  She looked at them, a faint glimmer of hope in her teary eyes. But Calandrx glanced at the others, and they were shaking their heads no.

  "We're sorry, my lady," the old pilot told her. "We have not."

  Xara's hand went to her mouth. "Do you know where he is?"

  Again, all three men just shook their heads.

  Erx spoke up. "If only we did. We miss our brother Hunter, his company and his spirit."

  Xara turned away for a moment. The words sounded too much like a eulogy to her.

  "It's been so long since he was last heard from… " she whispered. "He left us so suddenly. And there are things he should know… "

  Finally, she began to cry in earnest.

  Calandrx glanced at the others and did an eye roll. At the same time, though, his heart became a bit heavier. He'd gone through this sort of thing — a couple centuries ago. They all had. And it was understandable. Hunter was a good guy. Handsome, honorable, mysterious. Was there anything else a teenage girl could want?

  So the mystery was solved. They'd been called here not for some dark reason but to comfort a teenage girl who had lost her first love. It was not the type of work Calandrx, Erx, and Berx were known for, but they were hugely relieved. They could have been summoned to the Imperial Palace for many things a lot worse than performing a mission of adolescent comfort.