by Mack Maloney
That's how Hunter and Xara discovered that, without needing an airplane or even a pair of wings, they were able to fly here in Heaven.
7
High Hill was deserted when Hunter and Xara returned.
This was odd. The hill looked out over Happy Valley and as it was the highest vantage point above the hovering ships, some of the principals of the UPF could always be found up here or at least nearby.
Happy Valley itself seemed strangely empty, too. A twilight had set in just as Hunter and Xara arrived back home. No one saw them land. And while a few figures were moving around in the dusk below, usually a large part of the 40,000-man UPF contingent could be found beneath the hovering ships, lolling about the emerald grass or congregating around the apple trees. But now the fields seemed virtually devoid of troopers.
This was not good. There was a standing order that should the status of their position here in Paradise ever change in any way, the principals of the UPF should head immediately for the fleet's flagship.
And that's where Hunter and Xara found them. Waiting in the combat center of the lead blue-and-chrome warship, America.
The entire inner circle was there. But no one was looking particularly happy or enlightened at the moment.
Erx and Berx, the nonnally jovial pilots who had found Hunter on Fools 6 so long ago, now appeared very troubled and even pale. They barely looked up when Hunter and Xara walked in. Calandrx, the great warrior and pilot turned poet and Empire bon vivant, also looked uncharacteristically down-cast.
The Great Klaaz, star hero and the oldest of the group, looked very old under the low lights. Zarex, the explorer, and Pater Tomm, the space monk, were staring at their hands folded tightly on the table before them. Steve Gordon, the CIA man who had traveled out from Planet America with them, was going through the motions of writing something down.
The pilot just stared at them. Finally he asked a question almost never heard in Paradise: "What's wrong?"
Tomm was the first to reply. His voice was very solemn.
"Brother Hawk," he said. "You must hear this man's story."
He pointed to the person sitting at the far end of the table almost in the shadows. It was Gym Bonz.
Hunter fell into one of the hovering seats directly across from Bonz. Xara took a seat next to Vanex, the Imperial Custodian, who was sitting by himself off in a corner.
Bonz recited his tale. He began, as always, with his being assigned the spy mission inside the SG No-Fly Zone, how he found no SG activity within the forbidden area nor evidence of any battle. He told how SG troops riding in crimson ships wearing red uniforms executed him. His description of the battle between SF and SG ships that followed was particularly vivid.
When the SF3 agent was through, a dark silence fell upon the cabin. The lights grew a bit dimmer.
"You know how things work here, Hawk," Tomm spoke up finally. "Nothing ever goes wrong in this place. There just aren't any mistakes. And as you know more than anybody, this place is so vast, it really does seem to go on forever. And quite possibly it does. Yet of all the spots Mr. Bonz here could have crossed over to, he arrived here, right in our midst. It just can't be a coincidence that he has fallen into our laps."
Calandrx leaned over and lightly touched Hunter's arm. "We believe our new friend is here for a reason," he said.
Hunter felt his heart sink to his boots. He glanced over to the corner at Xara. She was about to cry.
It was Gordon, the CIA man who spoke next.
"We are battling the Empire, Hawk," he began. "And that means both the Solar Guards and the Space Forces. But now that we know they are fighting each other, we have to assume that they are distracted, at least for a while. If so, this is a chance that won't come again. If we don't take it, then we might just as well stay here. I, too, think this is a sign — a sign from the other side."
Hunter slumped farther into his seat. He knew what they were getting at. They had talked about this day many times since first arriving here. But after spending what seemed like more than a decade in Paradise, they'd almost forgotten that at some point, this day would actually come.
It was Zarex who finally spoke the words: "Brother Hawk, we believe that someone… or something… is telling us we have to go back."
Again, dead silence around the table.
Hunter looked at each of his friends. They all seemed particularly old at the moment, even though, in theory at least, they hadn't aged a day since coming here. His mind wandered back to the clouds he'd seen in the sky at the previous twilight — and Xara's dream that they were actually red. His spirits dropped even further.
Like the rest of them, he'd fallen in love with this place. And like him, the thought of returning to the other side with the intent of restarting their military campaign was repulsive, almost nauseating. But this place meant something even more to Hunter: while the others in the UPF fleet had met compatible souls here with which to share their time and desires— even the old-timers like Vanex and Klaaz had hooked up with significant others — Hunter already had Xara, his true love, when he arrived. And he had spent all of the past ten years with her, every moment of it, in total happiness with her. She was so beautiful, inside and out, that spending an eternity in Paradise was the ultimate in heavenly rewards.
Hunter didn't want that to change for anything. And he surely did not want to go back.
But the others had anticipated his reaction. It was up to Tomm to change his mind.
"Brother Hawk," the monk began. "Since I've known you and about your quest, you have made one point to me over and over again."
The priest looked around the room.
"We, your brothers, have joined you in your campaign to right the wrong done to the original peoples of Earth. We believed in you. We believed in your cause. It was honest. It was necessary. Something that had to be done for the betterment of all. But again, in all that time, I have heard you say to us that this is really your fight. You started it. You have vowed to finish it. True?"
Hunter nodded solemnly. Tomm was right. During both their struggle to free the Home Planets and while battling their way down the Two Arm, he'd always had an additional weight on his shoulders: that his friends really didn't own a piece of this fight simply because they weren't Americans, nor were they from any of the Home Planets. They really were like his brothers, and each in his own right, fierce warriors. But they weren't like him. They had simply joined his cause. The thought that one of them would get killed fighting his fight haunted him day and night as the campaigns progressed.
"While I owe you all a debt that I can never repay," Hunter finally said to them. "What you say is true; this is my fight, and my fight alone."
Tomm looked across the table at Hunter very sternly. Then he just shook his head.
"Brother Hawk, forgive me," he said. "But on that point you are dead wrong."
Tomm nodded to Gordon, who had repositioned himself at the room's immense porthole, at present covered by an atomic-silk curtain. With no little drama, Gordon yanked back the curtain and suddenly the room was filled with light. The twilight was gone, and the sun had returned to its place in the sky.
On the valley floor directly below them stood the entire 40,000-man contingent of the United Planets Forces, soldiers born and trained on the Home Planets after the prison colony was freed. The small army was assembled in thirty-five huge columns, each formation representing one of the planets contained inside the prison star system. Standing out front was the contingent from Planet America. Its flag was the UPF flag: the Stars and Stripes.
Hunter looked down at the assembled soldiers and felt a lump grow in his throat. They had obviously staged this for his benefit, and now he knew why the valley had looked so empty. But it was hard for him not to get the message. Tomm was right. This wasn't jast his fight. This was their fight, too. All 40,000 of them, standing below, flags billowing in the soft breeze were the descendants of those who had Earth so cruelly taken away from them thousands
of years before.
And from the looks of it, they were ready to leave Paradise today — and go to try and get it back.
Hunter glanced at the others around the table, then over at Xara in the corner. She was crying now, and they weren't tears of joy.
He looked back down on the army assembled below. His eyes locked onto the huge American flag out front and just would not let go. That flag meant something very deep and very real to him. Something that had not dulled over the trillions of miles or the thousands of years. In his eyes and in his heart, it represented just about everything that was good and just and right about humanity. Not perfect, but close enough. He just couldn't give up on it now.
"OK," he finally said, softly. "Let's go back—"
No one knew why they found it slightly easier to talk about the nastiness of war when they were in the auxiliary engine room at the bottom of the flagship America.
Was it the proximity to the antique ship's revitalized ion-drive star engine? Or was it something about being in the gut of the hovering ship that put them out of sight from the big brother that seemed to be watching over them here in Paradise? Or was it just their imaginations all along?
There was no real answer to be had. But shortly after agreeing that it was time for them to finally return to the other side, Hunter and the rest of the UPF command staff huddled inside the small anteroom just off the main power system suite. Sitting on the floor, in near total darkness, heads down, they were trying very hard to concentrate on things other than peacefulness and light. They felt foolish, even childish. But this was die only place they knew where they could hide from God.
In the few brief discussions tfiey'd had upon first coming here, it was agreed that there was only one way they could ever attempt a return to the other side: one ship would go first; the others would follow later. That first ship would carry a skeleton crew consisting of the original rebels: Erx and Berx, Calandrx, Zarex, Gordon, Pater Tomm, and Klaaz. Why them? And why just one ship? Because no one was sure if the Vanex Door worked in reverse. Could they leave the way they came in? There was actually a high probability they couldn't, and that those making the attempt to pass back over would be killed. If that happened, it stood to reason — if there could be any reason in these things — that the souls of the lost crew would return here and inform the others that passing back over was probably impossible. Then they really would have to stay in Nirvana.
But if all indications were that the ship and crew did make it back, then the others would follow exactly one week later. And while direct contact with the other side would be impossible — the Echo 999.9 capsules were good for onetime use only — those returning first would have to make sure that the reentry point was secure for the other eleven ships to pass through. Or at least that had been die original plan. Now, with news of the SF and SG fighting each other, the crew of the pathfinder ship would have its work cut out for them. The reentry spot — Zero Point — would be, Vanex had calculated, exactly where the UPF fleet disappeared in the first place: right in the middle of what was now the SG No-Fly Zone.
But that was only a small part of the enormous problem. Even if the entire fleet was able to make it across, the subterfuge and blitz methods they'd employed during the initial invasion of the Two Arm would no longer be possible. Once the shock of their reappearance wore off, the SG's Rapid Engagement Force — die real villains in this space opera — would be all over them. And no doubt, they would soon be joined by regular Solar Guards forces, and, not to forget, the ultraloyal Space Forces as well. In other words, the UPF would be facing the military might of the entire Fourth Empire. Just them, and twelve ships.
"If we make it back, the odds against us will be tremendous," Calandrx said now, his voice echoing in the dark little room. "But if we must go down, then we should go down fighting… and that means…"
He began stumbling for words. Everyone else tried hard to concentrate.
"And that means…" Calandrx began again. "That… the grass was especially brilliant earlier today. The wind was warm and soft and…"
He tried to bite his tongue to stop talking, but it was no use. He'd been sidetracked just like every time they tried to talk about anything that wasn't acceptable in this place of mandatory peace.
So Tomm tried to pick up where Calandrx left off.
"We will all have roles to play once we return to the other side," the monk started saying. "We know how we are going to attempt to go back. But there is no sense in talking about what happens after that now… because… as you know… the water down in the stream was especially tasty today, wasn't it? And…"
He stopped himself. It happened again. Heaven was intruding.
Klaaz gave it a try. "We will need more men, more weapons, more support," he began. "We will need to make sure that… that… we are all atop High Hill when the next twilight comes, because it will be extremely spectacular and…"
He, too, stopped talking. Three sentences were as far as he could get. The invisible euphoria gas was seeping into the closed compartment very quickly now.
Zarex jumped in. "Tomm is right; these are things we can only discuss once we get back," he said in rapid-fire fashion. "We can only plan it then… We must be prepared to… eat the golden apples near the big bend in the river, as they are especially sweet."
"That they are," Gordon said. "I had one earlier and…"
He stopped himself, and everyone smiled. They could go no further. Happiness and peace had found them again. This was all that could be said.
But they all had the basic idea: get one ship across, try as best as possible to smooth the way for the other eleven to follow.
And then prepare for a massive, one-sided, and most likely suicidal last battle.
But leaving Heaven would be more difficult than getting in.
There were several technical problems to overcome, beginning with the so-called Vanex Door itself.
It was an impressive structure, nearly a quarter of a mile wide and more than 750 feet high. Even more remarkable was that the elderly Imperial custodian had built it himself. Of course, he had the help of his electron torch, the do-it-all hand tool that could convert any kind of atom into any other kind of atom, and therefore allowed its owner to create just about anything out of practically nothing, so to speak.
Vanex and Xara had arrived in Heaven several days before the UPF fleet. To them though, their head start seemed the equivalent of several months, long enough for the engineer to conceive his genius invention and then actually construct it.
The structure was located near the south side of High Hill, about a quarter mile from the last bend in Happy Valley's river and a part of the UPF's little enclave where few of the local souls ever bothered to venture. It was a basic framework of thin, shiny girders, which essentially served as a 2,500-foot rectangular brace for the four Twenty 'n Six units. When connected, they created the crucial transdimensional field that made up the Vanex Door. The disassembled Echo 999.9, augmented by a ring of signal amplifiers, was positioned over the screen like a king's multijeweled crown. The Door was a magnificent achievement; gigantic and slightly asymmetrical, it was almost a work of art. It also looked as out of place as the twelve huge warships it helped bring here.
But it was its location that posed a significant problem. As each of the escaping UPF ships came through the Door, their power plants ground to a halt almost the instant they gained the airspace over Paradise. There were nearly a couple cataclysmic collisions in the first few hair-raising seconds as the ships had appeared so fast, their pilots barely had enough time to move their stalled vessels out of the way before the ship behind them popped through. This was why the UPF fleet was hovering above the heavenly landscape in such a haphazard fashion and not in any kind of a rigid formation.
The problem was rooted in the odd fact that once here, the twelve ships lost all power, except what was needed to keep them in their hover and to keep a few lamps illuminated. Many took this as further proof that
someone or something was pulling the strings here, and while that entity didn't mind the ships invading its space, it was adamant about them not going anywhere once they arrived. Further proof of this: no electron torches worked after the ships crossed over here, though they had worked for Vanex before. Quadtxols didn't work here, either. Subtle things. But the message seemed clear: strong forces will become obstacles if you try to leave or even move around.
The problem then was that the ships were out of position to make the return trip back through the Door. The UPF engineers figured out mat the tiny modicum of power that was keeping the ships in the air could be used to push them forward back out the portal, but not much farther than that. There would not be nearly enough juice to maneuver the ships around so they would be pointing back at the Door.
The only solution: the portal would have to be moved to accommodate them.
The 40,000 members of the UPF fleet would provide the muscle for this project. They would have to deconstruct the Door's framework by hand and reassemble it, at a location near one of the stolen cargo 'crasher ships, Resonance 133.
As it would be this vessel to attempt the first reverse cross-over, the Vanex Door would have to be rebuilt just a few feet off its nose.
There was yet another problem, bigger than the repositioning of the Vanex Door. This one had to do with Hunter himself. When the Resonance 133 crew finally launched, there was no way he could go with them. Why? Because he'd not come here the same way they had.
They'd all come through the portal created by combining the Echo 999.9 and the Twenty 'n Six field.
Hunter, on the other hand, had come here via an Echo capsule, as had Xara and Vanex. The more direct approach, certainly, but it raised a huge question: What would happen to him if he rode back to the other side in the UPF ship? If he had entered Heaven by one means and then left in a completely different way, would there be any cosmic repercussions?
