Flash Gordon

by Arthur Byron Cover

  “That young hothead!” said Vultan. Then he thought of Biro lying on the fin, of Flash’s bravery, of how the Earthling had not hesitated to rush to the aid of a companion he barely knew. “Ah, well, who wants to live forever?” he called out, laughing boisterously. “Attack! Dive, my Hawk Men, dive!”

  And the remaining wave of Hawk Men swooped down to join the fray.

  Flash leaped off the rocket cycle and onto the fin. Part of him was surprised at how he had accepted the grosser aspects of battle now that he was in the midst of it. He lifted Biro’s wing, winced at the sight of the wound, which must have been painful, minor though it was. “Are you all right?”

  “They just winged me. Here’s the detonator,” said Biro hoarsely, removing a tiny control unit from his belt.

  Flash dragged Biro to safety and pressed a button on the unit.

  The bulkhead exploded. Men (inside and outside, friend and foe) screamed as shards of metal exploded in a deadly spray. At least one soldier caught pieces in his head and heart. Flash’s stomach turned as he saw a Hawk Man collapse and futilely attempt to halt the blood gushing from his wounded leg. A soldier shot the Hawk Man, putting him out of his misery. Picking up a laser gun Biro had appropriated during the battle, Flash sliced the soldier in half. He ignored his pleasurable sensations.

  Flash moved into the warship.

  Elsewhere, Vultan waded through the fray like an elemental force that only materialized whenever groups of men battled one another. He smashed in a skull with his club, disemboweled a second foe, and shattered a jaw, sending his victim plummeting. He stood tall and proud. There was an air about him, as if he was fated to survive the day, as if he was positive he would emerge from battle unharmed. That air, as much as his undeniable skill, was his greatest weapon. Vultan only allowed himself to be diverted from the task at hand when he heard the explosion. He glanced up, saw Luro make an affirmative and defiant gesture. “To the bulkhead, my Hawk Men, to the bulkhead!”

  Soon Vultan caught up with Flash and the foremost Hawk Men as they fought their way through the ship. A Hawk Man set an explosive which tore asunder the door leading to the command post.

  As the Hawk Men barged in, fighting and slaying all who stood in their way, Flash tossed a Mongian grenade at the second level, killing the soldiers or else rendering them incapacitated. Vultan slew the captain.

  The Hawk Men had taken the warship.

  Aura led Zarkov and Barin through the maze of dungeon hallways she had often explored as a child; she was amazed she remembered them so well. They reached an elevator door. Aura manipulated her ring; a light shone from the jewel onto the fixture beside the door. “They’ve changed the code!” she exclaimed.

  Before she had the opportunity to despair, Zarkov lifted her wrist next to the fixture and began fiddling with her device. “It’s okay. I’ll try to work it out.”

  Aura turned to Barin, who hefted the laser she had taken from the guard. Ever since she had been in his presence, her knees had been weak, and she yearned for him to take her in his strong arms. She could not recall having previously felt this way about a man, but there was a purity and security in Barin’s spirit that attracted her to him as if he were completely new in her life, as if she had finally met the man she would gladly call master.

  “I’ve changed too, Aura,” said the Prince of the Tree Men.

  “So have I,” she replied breathlessly.

  “Can you still love me?” he asked, knowing full well the answer.

  “I don’t know. We’ll try.” But there was no commitment in her voice. “I don’t know what kind of relationship would satisfy me. I’m not the monogamous type.”

  “I know.” Barin smiled in a manner which implied he understood her internal conflict. “You have needs.”

  “Yes. Perhaps an open, liberal relationship would be the best thing.” Though her words seemed to widen the gulf between them, she found it difficult to resist him as he leaned over to kiss her. She knew the kiss would be tender. Though Zarkov kept distracting her by moving her arm around, she had never known such a tenderness. She broke away with an effort. “Not now, Barin!”

  For a moment Barin’s former personality reasserted itself. “You haven’t changed!”

  “Please! If I’m not at the wedding I’ll be shot!”

  At that point Zarkov succeeded in cracking the code. A light stabbed out of her wrist, and the elevator door opened.

  As Barin moved past her to join Zarkov, Aura succumbed to her overwhelming passions and planted a kiss on her lover that almost caused him to drop his weapon.

  “Hurry!” said Zarkov.

  Aura ran down the hallway, and Barin entered the elevator. As the door closed, Zarkov said, “I thought it was a prime number. Part of the Zeitman series. I haven’t changed!”

  Hawk Men jury-rigged the warship instruments that had been damaged during the battle. Flash was amazed at how quickly and efficiently they worked on the complicated equipment; he recalled Vultan had confided in him that his people had been preparing several years to revolt against Ming. The arrival of Flash and friends, which had caused events to get out of hand, had merely caught them off guard. Flash did not see any prisoners of war, and he pointedly avoided inquiries concerning their treatment. He concentrated on mastering the warship flight controls.

  Biro looked up from the instruments he had been working on; he wiped his brow and smiled. “Autopilot repaired.”

  Vultan slapped his round belly. “Good, good. All right, everybody take off! Luro!”

  “Yes?”

  “Watch Biro here; see that he stays out of trouble.”

  Luro and Biro grinned at one another, it was clear they both would be going out of their way to find trouble once the main battle commenced.

  Vultan shrugged. Those two, he thought warmly. “Form into a battle stream behind the rocket,” he ordered. “Flash and I will bail out when the shooting starts.”

  As the Hawk Men filed out, Flash pushed buttons on a device in the upper right corner of his console. Numbers ran backward.

  “What’ve you set there?” Vultan asked.

  “That’s how long Earth has left, Mongian time. One of your mathematicians figured it out for me. The differentials due to the space curvatures gave him trouble at first, but I almost wish he hadn’t done such a good job.”

  The digital clock read three minutes forty-three seconds.

  “Level with me, Vultan. Will this do it?”

  “No doubt. They’ll switch on the lightning field around the city. And when this baby hits it—BOOM! It’ll blow that field dead, and my Hawk Men fly right in.” He twirled some radio dials. “Let’s hear what the airwaves have to say!”

  Vultan and Flash stood frozen as the traditional ceremonial music of Mongo crackled through the speaker.

  Flash turned pale. “Oh my God.”

  Though the stoic monitors cared not for how her mannerisms indicated her emotional state of mind, Kala found their presence unnerving as she paced back and forth. Without warning, she had found herself fighting off a Hawk Man attack while Ming was engaged in a social function he would not permit to be interrupted. Sometimes she wandered to the main console, which she alone knew how to operate now that Klytus was dead, but mostly she paced the length and breadth of the room.

  The face of the colonel posted at Battle Control appeared on the screen. “I am pleased to report that Rocket Ajax is returning, General Kala.”

  “With Gordon’s body?”

  “I presume so. Communications are out for some reason.”

  Suddenly alert, Kala dashed toward the main console. “Are they in the proper approach pattern for today?”

  The colonel hesitated, licking his lips. “Actually, they are not.”

  “Open fire.”

  “On Ajax, General?”

  “Open fire! All weapons! And charge the lightning field. I take personal responsibility in the Emperor’s name.” Though I reserve the right to change my mind at some f
uture date. As the turrets’ shocks reverberated throughout the castle, Kala spoke into the public address system, “Attention, all wedding guests. There is no cause for alarm. The city’s weapons are being fired in continuous barrage in honor of His Imperial Majesty’s wedding.”

  As Dale slowly marched the intricate path through rooms and the throngs of the court, her life became even more desolate. Her ornate black headdress seemed to weigh her down. She was totally unaware of Aura’s renewed treachery against her father, of the escape of Barin and Zarkov, of the attack upon the city led by Flash. She had become a person without an identity; no longer an individual by any definition of the word. Cut off from her past on Earth, her future became, impossibly, increasingly repulsive. When she heard the voice of Kala over the speakers, a twinge of hope momentarily stirred in her breast. Though she had perhaps indulged in too many attempts to make her fantasies (particularly those of a certain order) come true, she was a realist at heart, and she did nothing to nurture that hope. It was utterly impossible for Flash to have survived the explosion of the Sky Palace.

  Thoughts of a similar nature went through Ming’s mind as he walked up a flight of steps which led from beneath the palace hall to the altar where he had wed so many times before. He wore his finest red clothing, the gold collar of his softest jacket being formed by three circular shapes that encased his visual perceptions in a luxurious cage. The anticipation he felt for this Earth woman threatened to distract him forever from the spiritual matters of genuine importance an emperor was duty-bound to dwell upon. However, he did not regret his preoccupation with mundane affairs. To the contrary. Oneness with the universe could wait a while.

  That is why Ming nodded with approval when he heard Kala explaining that the barrage of gunfire was merely a salute. He did not wonder why she had ordered this unprecedented act. Nervously rubbing the fingers of his right hand, he hurried to his wedding as quickly as his stoic façade would permit.

  The gaudy city, which resembled a plastic toy from a distance, was enclosed in a net of ever-moving yellow gold bolts. Flash marveled at the power the Mongians possessed, for the city lights behind the field had not dimmed in the slightest. He was tempted to make some kind of moral judgment, but he was too busy dodging laser blasts and keeping the warship relatively on course. The ship had been hit several times, and it required all his strength to manipulate the altitude controls. Consoles hummed; exposed wires fizzled; white smoke even rose from the digital clock counting down the time remaining to Earth.

  Vultan climbed up a ladder leading to the second level and an exit hatch, but he paused halfway when he realized Flash was not leaving the controls. “What are you doing? It’s time to bail out.”

  “I forgot to tell you. I broke my rocket cycle.”

  “So come on. I’ll carry you.”

  “Bail out, Vultan—quick, while you still can.”

  The Prince of the Hawk Men both leaped and flew toward Flash. “Are you crazy?”

  “The laser fire’s too heavy. You know we’ll never hit that field with nobody at the wheel.”

  “You’ll blow to pieces, Flash! It’s suicide!”

  Flash tried to keep his voice steady. “No. A rational transaction—one life for billions.” When Vultan grabbed his arm, he fought off the Prince. “You loony bird, go on, get out of here! Your men need you outside!”

  White smoke intermingling with an odorous gray fume entered the control room as a terrific explosion rocked the warship; even Vultan nearly lost his footing. He regained his balance, then contemplated the Earthling as he slowly caressed his beard. “So long, Flash,” he said quietly, though the volume of laser fire continued to increase. “It’s been . . .”

  “I know. For me too, Vultan.”

  The warship swerved to one side and a rear exhaust sputtered. Vultan moved for the escape ladder. He paused when he had reached midway, as Flash said, “Tell Dale I know it would have been good.”

  “That must be one hell of a little planet you guys have,” said Vultan.

  Flash shrugged. “Not too bad.”

  By now the city resembled not a toy, but a crazy arcade. The warship thundered forward though it was struck several times, sending showers of sparks onto the barren landscape. It thundered forward as if its metal parts had somehow become infused with Flash’s tremendous will.

  Behind it were the Hawk Men. They advanced bravely, avoiding the streaks of burning light stabbing through the air. Though he was horrified as a Hawk Man near him was turned into a charred parody of a man, Vultan’s voice was joyous as he communicated to his men via his wrist radio: “Onward, my brave warriors! Don’t, falter! Let this be known forever as Flash Gordon’s day!”

  General Kala was dealing with the many communication breakdowns hampering her defense of the city when Barin and Zarkov burst into the room. Holding his laser at the monitors, Barin said, “Freeze, you bloody bastards! Freeze!”

  The monitors, who up until that point had still spoken aloud, quietly informing Kala what they saw and what they were doing, instantly complied. Their sudden silence was eerie.

  Standing behind the central console, Kala withdrew a laser pistol from her black leather holster. Barin instantly spun on his heel and shot the pistol from her hand. It twirled on the floor until it stopped cold in a corner.

  Zarkov advanced toward Kala. “Take us to Ming!”

  Kala said indignantly, “We do not lead traitors to the Imperial Presence.”

  “I’ve heard that story many times before,” said Zarkov. “Don’t worry; we’ll find a way. Barin, why don’t you grab an imager from one of those agents?”

  “Certainly,” said Barin eagerly. He tore an imager off the nearest monitor. Sparks flew and static resounded throughout the room as the Prince recoiled in unexpected horror. For the monitor did not possess eyes; instead, frayed wires protruded from his empty sockets. The monitor screamed silently and lowered his head against the console; a moment later the remaining monitors did likewise.

  Zarkov rubbed his beard. “I wonder why I didn’t know they were cyborgs. Guess that information must be Level Seven.”

  Unseen by both the intruders, Kala moved around the console and withdrew a slim tube from her boot. She aimed it at Zarkov, pressed a button. A tremendous jet of flame roared from the tube, singeing the scientist’s head, before Barin spoiled her aim by firing his laser directly into her chest. Collapsing, having expired instantly, she slid partway down the steps that separated the main console from the monitors.

  Before Zarkov could thank Barin, the colonel from Battle Control appeared on the screen. “Rocket Ajax is still approaching. We guarantee its destruction when it reaches the lightning field. Life-form scanners identify Earthling Gordon at the controls.”

  “Holy Moley!” exclaimed Zarkov. “We’ve got to do something!”

  “General Kala?” said the colonel. “Will you please show yourself on the screen?”

  Barin fired the laser toward the image of the colonel, and the communication device exploded with a crashing and hissing.

  “We’ve got to deactivate that lightning field!” said Zarkov, rubbing his hands, anxious to get to work. “Not only that, but we’ve got to save the Earth!”

  “Admirable goals, both of them,” said Barin, “but how can we accomplish them?”

  “Thanks to my Level Six indoctrination, I think I can override the field controls here. Your mission, whether or not you choose to accept it, is to destroy the control panel of the third atomic generator near the pits of radioactive material.”

  “But they’re too far away. I’ll never make it!”

  Zarkov tapped his forehead. “I know a shortcut. Listen now, I’ve only got time to say this once. Go down the hall, make a left . . .”

  A definite shortage of oxygen in the warship began to affect Flash’s performance. He felt dizzy. He knew he was going to die, but he had hoped it would be quicker than death by suffocation. Nevertheless, despite the difficulties, Flash managed to
keep the warship on course.

  Though her heart was pounding, Dale felt numb, practically deceased, as the short, balding priest Zogi, who possessed wayward clumps of gray hair and an obsequious manner unrivaled in all Mongo, performed the barbaric marriage ceremony. Dale, flanked by guards, stared at Ming standing opposite her. She was mesmerized by an unwelcome fascination with the evil aura of his unrepentant personality. His stoic façade had crumbled, and his lean features struggled to contain the expression of his pleasure.

  “Do you, Ming the Merciless, Rightful Ruler of the Universe, take this Earthling to be your Empress of the Hour?”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t!” said Dale, futilely trying to pull away from the guards.

  “Do you promise to use her as you will?” the priest asked.

  “I do,” said Ming. His anticipation was keen.

  “Not to blast her into space?”

  Ming raised an eyebrow and glared.

  Zogi cleared his throat. “Until such time as you grow weary of her?”

  At that moment, Barin exchanged fire with red-robed guards in the corridor. As he hid in a recess, there was a hubbub of confusion as the guards got their orders mixed up. Barin took advantage of the situation and blasted them. He retrieved a high-powered laser from a tripod and, carrying it in both hands, rushed down the corridor. His greatest fear was that he had run out of time.

  “The ring,” Ming said sternly.

  Zogi’s eyes widened as he glanced at his aides. The second aide finally produced a crystal ring. Wide-eyed and perspiring, the priest gave it to Ming, who held it before Dale. A guard roughly lifted her hand into position, and Ming forced the ring onto her finger.

  “Repeat after me, Your Majesty: With this ring I thee wed . . .”

  “With this ring I thee wed . . .”

  The lightning field was but a few seconds away when Flash heard the final vow of the ceremony over the radio. He had thought he would feel anger or sorrow, but instead he felt nothing, not even regret that he was about to die. He bit his lower lip. “Poor Dale. What a damn shame.”