Justice League_In Blackest Night

by Michael Jan Friedman

  Fortunately, there weren’t any defense towers here as there had been at the prison. But then, why would Evil Star worry about anyone attacking Chifathia . . . or anything in it?

  Why indeed, John mused.

  He had barely penetrated the city’s outer limits when one of the eyes swerved and came flying his way. It looked like a silver hourglass set on its side, both of its flat, circular surfaces equipped with video cameras.

  Raising his ring, John speared the device with a stream of green energy no wider than his finger. The eye sparked, sputtered, and fell out of the sky. Almost immediately, a second eye moved toward him to take the first eye’s place. He destroyed that one as well.

  From that point on, he didn’t wait for the eyes to react to him. He went after them one by one, blasting them out of the sky until there weren’t any others left to blast.

  They might have recorded a distant image of him, maybe a general idea of what he looked like. However, they hadn’t seen anything that could tell Evil Star who he was or the nature of his power.

  For the time being, that was how John preferred it. The less the tyrant knew about him, the easier it would be for him to carry out another mission—assuming this one turned out to be a success.

  Of course, Evil Star would eventually catch a glimpse of him—maybe even in person. But until then, Aoran’s champion would remain a mystery to him, an enemy at whom he couldn’t strike back.

  Weaving his way among Chifathia’s towers, John made his way to the heart of the city. According to the Council’s database, that was where he would find what he was looking for.

  It didn’t take him long to locate it. As a matter of fact, it would have been difficult to miss.

  The statue was huge, at least a thousand feet high if it was an inch. It was made of something that looked like midnight blue marble with pale purple veins running through it.

  Marble was a mineral, John reflected. Evil Star would have to have dragged it out of the earth. To find such an immense block of the stuff, carve it, and transport it here into the midst of a crowded city must have required immense power—not to mention immense skill. Apparently, the tyrant possessed both in great abundance.

  Then again, he had the energy of the stars themselves on which to draw. With that kind of force at his disposal, there was precious little that Evil Star couldn’t accomplish.

  John didn’t need that much power to do what he had come here for. And as for skill . . . he hardly needed any. It was always easier to destroy than to build.

  Descending to a point directly in front of the statue’s face, John stopped there and took a moment to study his enemy’s countenance. He couldn’t see much of it thanks to the mask Evil Star wore, which was carved into the statue as well. It concealed all but his eyes and the lower part of his face.

  But what John could see was instructive. A proud, jutting chin. Thin lips drawn back in a wolflike grin. An intensity in the eyes that spoke of overwhelming greed and determination.

  Eventually, John hoped to wipe that expression from Evil Star’s face. But for now, he would have to settle for wiping it from the face of the tyrant’s statue.

  Raising his arm to shoulder height, John took aim at Evil Star’s cruel features and unleashed a blast of green energy. The dark, polished stone split as if he had taken a giant chisel to it, sending fragments spinning end over end to the hard surface below.

  But it wasn’t the result he had been hoping for. Apparently, the thing was stronger than it looked.

  Summoning up more willpower, John drove a wedge of emerald force deep into the center of the statue’s forehead. This time, the head cracked in half and both pieces fell away. When they hit the shoulders of the statue, they cracked again and became smaller pieces.

  Next, John went after the statue’s arms, which were bent at the elbow with their hands planted arrogantly on Evil Star’s hips. Severing them at the shoulder and wrist, he watched them plummet and smash to bits on the ground.

  By then, the crowds within a couple of blocks of the square had grown huge. The people of Chifathia had never seen anything like this. They were drawn to the spectacle the way certain insects were drawn to an open flame.

  John was glad they were so interested in what he was doing. After all, that was the point of this exercise.

  Using his ring’s energy like a knife, he sliced through the statue’s waist. Then he delivered a blast that slid the statue’s torso off its base. As it fell end over end, John’s green beam smashed it to powder and bits of debris.

  That left only the statue’s legs. With a series of emerald energy bursts, John knocked chunks out of them. Finally, he flew up above the barely recognizable structure that was still standing and pounded it into the ground.

  By then, a few individuals had separated themselves from the crowd and were addressing their fellow Coranitharans. John swooped lower so he could hear what they were saying. He recognized one of the speakers as a man he had rescued from the prison in Dashiri.

  “You see?” the man shouted. “Evil Star isn’t all-powerful or he would have prevented the destruction of his statue! He can be defeated!”

  John smiled to himself. It was exactly the message he had meant to get across. It was good to see that word of his efforts was starting to spread around Aoran.

  “Together,” said the man who had been a prisoner, “we can be more powerful than Evil Star! We can teach him to fear us as we have learned to fear him!”

  John felt as if he should say something himself. However, it was better to let others do the speaking for him. His legend would grow more quickly if he remained nameless.

  As he circled the plaza where the statue had stood, he saw individual Coranitharans lift pieces of debris and send them smashing down into other pieces. They were showing their newfound sense of defiance by following his example.

  Satisfied with his work there, John ascended into the empty sky and headed for home.

  Jerred stood outside of Agrayn’s front door and touched the metal wall pad that would announce his presence there.

  He had known Agrayn for a long time. However, he had been invited to Agrayn’s home in one of the city’s highest towers only once before—to celebrate the birth of the man’s granddaughter.

  On this occasion, Jerred didn’t expect to do any celebrating. Even with the Green Lantern’s victory in Dashiri, there was still a great deal for the Council to worry about.

  No doubt that was why Agrayn had asked him to visit.

  As he thought that, the door opened. “Ah,” said Agrayn. “Thank you for being so prompt. Please come in.”

  Jerred entered the apartment and allowed his host to lead him to a comfortable-looking chair. Agrayn took one on the other side of a low, polished-metal table.

  “So,” said Jerred, “what did you wish to speak about?”

  Agrayn’s expression turned somber. “I think you know what I wish to speak about.”

  Jerred did know. “About Maleen.”

  “She was supposed to be a part of our deception,” said Agrayn. “It seems she has become more than that.”

  “I’ve noticed it as well,” Jerred was forced to admit.

  “It’s not wise for her to become so involved, my friend.”

  Jerred shrugged. “You’ve seen how the Green Lantern acts, how he carries himself—how he springs into battle against terrible odds without a moment’s hesitation. Is it any wonder that Maleen has become infatuated with him?”

  “John Stewart isn’t one of us,” Agrayn reminded him sternly. “He’s not of this world. He was brought here for one purpose and one purpose only—to rid Aoran of Evil Star.”

  Jerred sighed. “I know.”

  “She’s your niece,” said Agrayn. “Speak to her.”

  “I have,” said Jerred.

  “Then speak to her again. For her own sake, see to it that she keeps her emotions in check.”

  Jerred nodded. “I will do my best.”

  And he would. He
was, after all, a man of his word. But he had seen the look on Maleen’s face when the Green Lantern flew through her open window.

  If that look was any indication, he would have a hard time making his niece see reason.

  Evil Star floated high over the lofty towers of Chifathia, his dark blue cloak snapping viciously under the lash of the wind. He looked down on the ruin that had been his statue. What had once been a mighty tribute to him was nothing more than dust and pebbles.

  First the prison, Evil Star thought with a rush of anger, and now this. Clearly, he had taken his newfound adversaries too lightly.

  When he saw what they had done in Dashiri, he had believed he was still dealing with rebels—a more powerful variety of them, perhaps, but rebels nevertheless. Now he realized that his adversaries were a different breed altogether.

  They weren’t just trying to free one nation or another from Evil Star’s grasp. They were taunting him, trying to expose the chinks in his armor. Trying to make him look bad.

  And it wasn’t difficult to figure out why.

  If they could give the people hope, the people might rise up against him. And they would be much more difficult to crush if they fought him together rather than separately.

  Evil Star would still triumph over them in any case. He would still become Aoran’s undisputed ruler. But why allow the path of his ambition to become any more arduous than it had to be?

  He again eyed the rubble on the ground below and his fists clenched in their purple gloves. He had to destroy the ones responsible for this and he had to do it quickly—so they would never have a chance to mock him this way again.

  But Evil Star still had to know who his adversaries were. He still had to find them.

  Fortunately, that wouldn’t be a problem. In Dashiri, the prison breakout had occurred without witnesses. The only ones who had seen what happened were the prisoners themselves, and they weren’t exactly available for questioning.

  The situation here in Chifathia was a different one entirely. There had to have been witnesses aplenty. All Evil Star had to do was find them and make them talk.

  And he would do that. With pleasure.

  At John’s insistence, Maleen had agreed to appear before the Council with him.

  After all, he had said, her suggestions and her insights had been invaluable to his work. He had come to depend on them every bit as much as he depended on his ring.

  So she went with him. But as they entered the chamber, she couldn’t help remembering the advice her uncle had given her just before John got back from Chifathia.

  “The Council is concerned, my child. And I am more concerned than any of them. You cannot allow yourself to fall in love with the Green Lantern.”

  She wasn’t doing that, Maleen had told him. She was just doing what she had agreed to do in order to save their world.

  But she had lied to her uncle, hadn’t she? She was falling in love. She hadn’t asked for it or expected it, but it was coming over her just the same.

  “Welcome,” said Agrayn, smiling as he looked at John.

  Then he turned his gaze on Maleen. There was just the slightest hint of disapproval in it.

  “Both of you,” he added politely.

  “Thank you,” the Green Lantern replied, his voice striking echoes off the walls. “I’ve come to speak with you about our next step.”

  He looked more confident than ever, Maleen thought. But then, he had a couple of victories under his belt. And the more time he spent on Aoran, the more he studied the Council’s database, the better he knew the place.

  “We’ve hit Evil Star and we’ve hit him hard,” John said. “But if we let up now—even a little bit—we’ll lose our momentum. We’ve got to come up with a stunt that will really get the people’s attention.”

  Darmac frowned. “It will be difficult to strike a blow more impressive than those you’ve already struck.”

  “Impossible, perhaps,” said Jaapho.

  “No,” said Agrayn, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. “John is right. He must do something that shows once and for all his disdain for Evil Star’s power.”

  “But what?” asked Jerred.

  The Council leaned back in their chairs and fell silent. They weren’t used to thinking along these lines. For a long time, they had been concerned only with Escraya’s defense. Now they were being asked to change direction and go on the offensive.

  Maleen considered the question too. In fact, she had been considering it since John returned from Chifathia.

  What could John do that would undermine Evil Star even more than the liberation of his prisoners or the loss of his statue? How could the Green Lantern top what he had already accomplished?

  Suddenly, an idea came to Maleen. “His communications center,” she said in a whisper.

  Everyone looked at her. “I beg your pardon?” Agrayn replied.

  “His communications center,” Maleen repeated. This time, she spoke loudly enough for everyone in the chamber to hear her. “Evil Star’s communications center.”

  “What is that?” John asked her.

  “You’ve seen Evil Star on the trans-video receiver? When he wants to address all the nations he’s conquered?”

  John nodded. “Yes . . .”

  “He sends out those messages from a communications center in Pejaara, the capital of Poyaaj.”

  Darmac’s eyes lit up. “I see what you mean. John could destroy the facility with his ring. That would leave Evil Star without a way to speak to his subjects.”

  “But only for a little while,” Jaapho said. “He would eventually build another communications center somewhere else. Or perhaps in the very same place.”

  That wasn’t what she had meant. “You don’t understand,” Maleen told him.

  But John did. She could see it in his eyes.

  “Maleen’s not talking about destroying the place,” he said. “She’s talking about using it.”

  She smiled. He had come to know her well in the short time they had been together.

  “John’s right,” she told the Council. “I’m saying he can take advantage of the communications center to broadcast a message to the people of Aoran.”

  “And it will be that much more impressive,” said Jerred, picking up her train of thought, “because he will be sending it with the help of Evil Star’s own facility.”

  Maleen nodded. “Exactly.”

  The Council considered the idea for a moment. “It may be just the thing we need,” Agrayn concluded.

  “It is,” the Green Lantern told him. He tossed an approving look in Maleen’s direction. “It’s perfect.”

  No, she thought. It wasn’t. If it were perfect, there wouldn’t be any possibility of John’s being destroyed before he could get his message off.

  She knew there would be an incredible amount of risk involved in seizing control of the communications center. Of course, John’s other missions had involved risk as well. But this one was even more daring, even more defiant.

  And having been burned twice, Evil Star would be that much more vigilant. For all Maleen knew, he had set traps for John wherever the tyrant thought John might strike next.

  “Then it’s settled,” said Agrayn. “When do you leave?”

  John shrugged. “As soon as I learn what I need to know about the place.” He glanced at Maleen. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour, I’d think.”

  “An hour,” she confirmed.

  Then he would be gone again. And she would be forced to sit by the window and watch for his return— and try to convince herself that he was just an unwitting servant of her people, not a man she was coming to love.

  John swept through the seemingly endless darkness, looking for the distant glow that would be the city of Pejaara.

  The gloom through which he flew reminded him of the stakes he was playing for. If he failed in his efforts, if Escraya fell like the rest of Aoran, the stars might never be seen again.

  It would always b
e like this. Always. Never changing. Children might be born and live their entire lives without ever seeing the sun, without knowing it was ever any different.

  In darkest night . . .

  The words just popped into John’s head—as something similar had popped into his head when he was sitting in his house back in Escrayana. Again, he had the uncomfortable feeling that he had heard it before but couldn’t remember any of the details.

  Then he was forced to put the subject aside— because as he flew past the shoulder of a mountain, he saw Pejaara. It looked just as the database had described it.

  It was an older city, not as elegant as Chifathia or Escrayana. Its towers were smaller and squatter. Still, it had a certain charm to it, a certain hominess, with its soft lighting and its vibrant colors and its winding streets.

  The communications center was on the outskirts of Pejaara. A modern building made of metal instead of stone, it looked out of place among its neighbors. But that only made it easier for John to spot.

  He wasted no time zeroing in on his objective. Extending his right hand, he sent a blast of green energy plowing through the nearest wall. Then he went plunging through the hole he had made, ignoring the dust and debris that still filled the air.

  There were workers inside, open-mouthed and frightened. But John had no time to reassure them, to tell them that he was on their side. Not if he was going to pull this off.

  Following the floor plan he had found in the Council’s database, he arrowed through one corridor and then another. And finally, he came to the room where the center’s broadcasts originated.

  There were workers there too—technicians in the midst of checking out their equipment. John wondered if that meant Evil Star was due to arrive soon for another of his trans-video messages.

  “Move,” he barked.

  But the technicians just stood there.

  John didn’t want to hurt them. He knew they were just acting out of fear of what Evil Star might do to them. But he also didn’t have any time to spare.

  Training his ring on the technicians, he made a wedge and moved them out of his way. Then, still holding them there, he took up a position at the center’s U-shaped, metal control console.