“Will any weapons be employed that could pose a potential threat to our troops?” an Azin Mö inquired. As the primary doctors on Alpha Station, naturally their first concern would be for the safety of the troops.
“No chemical or liquid weapons will be used during the assault,” Filitt assured it.
“What is the main goal of that mission?” That came from the representative of humanity’s oldest friends, the Kortân-Dahuks; the first aliens to shake hands in space with a human.
“We intend to destroy their defense system, which has shut down all our mediums of communication.”
“Why are you the one organizing the mission?” the Toinul ambassador inquired. They were highly respected on Alpha Station, as their scientists had contributed a great deal of knowledge and information as well as assisted with discoveries and inventions. They were always ready for intellectual discussion, and clearly the ambassador thought this mission warranted one.
“The Central Committee has entrusted me with this mission, and it will be an honor for me to complete the task successfully.”
Valerian was scanning the crowd when he heard Laureline’s voice in his ear.
“That’s all we need!”
“What?” he asked.
“Doghan Daguis.”
“Oh, great,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Three squat aliens, all about four feet tall, stood in front of Laureline. Their stubby, four-fingered hands were in the air, and their small, beady eyes were wide as they stared down the lengths of their elongated, trunk-like muzzles at Laureline. They were brown and wrinkled and stooped, with sparse hair sticking up here and there.
Laureline had drawn her weapon, startled at having someone come up behind her, but now she lowered it, and they lowered their arms.
“Nice to see you again,” one of them said. He had a smudge of blue around his eyes.
“Agent Laureline,” the second chimed in. This one, too, had markings around his eyes, except his were burgundy-colored.
The third Doghan Daguis, whose markings were yellow, completed the sentence. “As resplendent as ever.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Laureline snapped.
“We go where work calls—”
“—We can speak over five thousand languages—”
“—which can come in handy—”
“—at a party like this,” the first finished. The second one added, “Need our services?”
Laureline patted the gun she’d just replaced on her hip. “No thanks. I have my own personal translator,” she said acidly. “Now, scram!”
Valerian’s voice came over the radio. “Ask them if they have any intel on Mül.”
He’s really obsessed with this dream, Laureline thought, but I suppose I can’t blame him. She grimaced, but obeyed. Sighing, she said to the three, “Okay. Major Valerian does want some intel after all. Planet Mül? Ring any bells, guys?”
“A highly sensitive matter!” exclaimed Blue.
“The best person to speak to—” continued Burgundy, and the yellow-marked Doghan Daguis finished up, “— would be Major Samk.”
“Alex?” said Valerian. “What have you got on a Major Samk?”
A picture of a dark-complexioned, handsome military man with a neatly trimmed beard came up on Laureline’s screen, along with his stats. Samk, Major Aton. 33. Deceased.
“Major Samk died a year ago,” Laureline said accusingly to the trio.
The Doghan Daguis appeared to be unruffled. The first one produced a small device and showed her his own picture of Samk—stone dead at his desk. Laureline’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” Blue began, “a most curious demise—”
“—that was never fully explained,” added Burgundy.
“Murder, some might call it,” Yellow said in a melodramatic tone. Laureline fought the urge to punch him right in his long nose, but refrained.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“Major Samk was an expert on planet Mül,” Blue continued.
“He took all that precious information—”
“—to the grave with him,” said Yellow.
“What a waste,” sighed the first Doghan Daguis.
“If you learn anything about the planet,” Laureline told them, “we’re interested.”
“It would be a pleasure to work for you, Laureline,” enthused Blue.
“Before we go,” the second began.
“—allow us to give you—”
“—some info—”
“—for free,” finished Burgundy.
Laureline eyed the three aliens skeptically. “For free?” she echoed. “Are you not feeling well?”
“The converter is precious—”
“—and highly sought after.” Burgundy nodded sagely.
“Mercenaries will come—” said Yellow.
“—to retrieve it—” Blue continued.
“—sooner than you think,” Burgundy finished solemnly.
“What kind of mercenaries?” Both Laureline and Valerian spoke at the same time.
They all eyed her with a smug expression. Blue actually wagged his finger at her. “The first tip was free.”
“You must pay for more,” Burgundy said.
Yellow added, “You get a discount, of course.”
Valerian’s voice came over the radio. “Alex? What’s that?” Laureline, too, could see a flashing red light on her own screen.
“A dozen individuals approaching,” Alex informed them. She added, “They are not on the guest list.”
“What kind of individuals?” Valerian pressed.
“Undetectable for now,” Alex responded.
Laureline looked at the Doghan Daguis wryly. “I get the feeling your info just lost its value. Go on, get out of here!”
The three headed for the exit, looking dejected. Valerian anxiously noticed the red light blinking faster.
“Valerian,” Laureline said, “this doesn’t look good.”
“No, it doesn’t. I want you back in the room near the commander, right now. Alex? Where are they coming from?” Valerian demanded.
“Everywhere,” Alex responded. “They’re going through the walls.”
Laureline picked up her pace, threading her way through the packed hall and heading toward the podium. She met Valerian’s gaze, and he seemed to make a decision.
“Laureline, evacuate the commander! I’m going after these intruders!”
Laureline shoved aside the last few audience members blocking her path, leaped onto the stage and rushed toward Filitt. She seized his arm and began to haul him away.
“Agent, what—” he began to protest, but she cut him off.
“Sorry! Emergency protocol!”
General Okto-Bar, who had been standing off to one side, instantly sprang into position to offer cover for the commander’s exit. His gun was drawn and his face was resolute. The crowd was starting to panic.
I really hope this is a false alarm, Laureline thought. But she didn’t expect they’d be that lucky.
* * *
Valerian’s gaze darted from the screen to the crowd and back again. The red warning light was flickering faster now, and the adrenaline was kicking in.
“Alex? Dammit, I need to know the attackers’ identity! Who is it?”
“I’m sorry, Major, but I cannot read their DNA,” Alex replied.
“What?” exclaimed Valerian. That simply couldn’t be. The Intruder XB982 was programmed with the DNA of every known sentient life form. Alex couldn’t possibly—
The far wall of the reception hall exploded.
Cries of terror went up as several of the guests were knocked off their feet. Valerian stared, stunned at what he was seeing.
A dozen slender, gray-robed figures suddenly poured into the hall. Beneath their hoods, their blue-eyed, bone-white—pearl-white, Valerian realized—faces were set in expressions of determination. They lifted something that looked like gr
acefully fashioned glass or ceramic vases, except instead of being carried upright, they were held so the opening faced forward. In their bulbous lower parts, pale blue light glowed softly.
But they were not vases, of course. They were weapons, and the aliens began firing indiscriminately into the crowd.
Valerian braced himself for carnage of the worst sort, but what emerged from the muzzles of their weapons was not bullets, but a gelatinous substance. It spread rapidly over the victim’s body like some kind of webbing or cocoon, sealing them up inside and completely immobilizing them.
Valerian’s mind flashed back to when he had asked Alex to analyze the pearl. The computer had assured him that Mül had no inhabitants. But Valerian had dreamed them, and then he had seen them on Kirian, and here they were again.
Alex hadn’t been able to analyze the Pearls’ DNA because the Pearls didn’t exist.
He snapped back to himself, but by then the commander’s men were already firing at the slim, pale figures. But in addition to being non-existent, the Pearls seemed also to be untouchable. They leaped and dodged, their movements agile and flowing and as beautiful as they themselves were. Before Valerian could even react, Okto-Bar, Laureline, and Commander Filitt himself, in addition to most of his men, were encased in the strange, gelatinous cocoons.
Valerian dove for cover behind a large white marble pillar. “Alex,” Valerian hissed, “give me something with a bit of bite.” He glanced down at his gun, watching the LEDs flashing.
“A new generation weapon,” Alex replied. “Running analysis. Plasma bullets. No counter before thirty seconds.”
“Great!’’
Valerian pulled a tube from his pocket, activated it with a quick snap, and stuck it between his lips, gripping it with his teeth. By this point, the Pearls had reached the stage. They seized the cocoon that encased the commander, hoisted it, and were carrying it off when Valerian leapt out from behind the pillar and opened fire on them.
He never saw the Pearl that had managed to sneak up on him from behind, but he did see the blue gel from their weapon ooze over his face and body and felt its gooey warmth envelop him, as it had done with all the others. He struggled against it for about a nanosecond before it totally wrapped him in its embrace and he toppled to the floor. Fortunately, the goo also provided plenty of padding.
“Thirty seconds,” Alex intoned. “Plasma bullets operational.”
Well, that’s nice, Valerian thought. But I can’t do so much as wiggle my little toe right now. The seconds ticked by, but Valerian wouldn’t give in to panic. Then, thankfully, the tube he’d stuck into his mouth started flashing red and then split in two.
A small mechanical spider emerged from the tube. Through the blue of the gel, Valerian followed the little trail of blinking red light as the robot extended a knife blade from its back and plunged it into the cocoon. It scurried down along Valerian’s body, cutting upward through the goo and slicing a tidy little line all the way down.
Valerian gulped in fresh air and sat up, squirming free of the sticky second skin. Stumbling forward, he rushed over to Laureline, drawing out a small knife from his kit and slicing open her cocoon. Her eyes fluttered open, and she inhaled deeply.
“What was that?” Laureline asked.
“The Pearls from Mül,” Valerian told her. “And they’ve got the commander! Free the general and get to the control room. You can track them and me both from there.”
She nodded. Goo was on her face, clumping in her hair. And he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. But he didn’t.
Instead, Valerian sprinted after the Pearls. He had worried that, since Alex wasn’t able to track their DNA, he might have trouble following them, but it turned out it was child’s play.
He just had to follow the enormous holes they’d blown in the walls.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There had, surprisingly and fortunately, been no casualties among the extraterrestrials gathered in the security hall. It seemed that the commander’s soldiers had been good enough shots to avoid collateral damage, and the weapons the Pearls had used only incapacitated. The converter had been completely unharmed, and a quick check revealed that it had slept through the whole ordeal. Within a few moments, Laureline and General Okto-Bar were back in the control room. Both of them placed their hands on the ID screen.
“Status on Major Valerian. Level Five. Emergency,” Laureline stated, keeping her voice calm and cool.
“Accepted,” answered Okto-Bar.
Laureline called up a map of the space station on the screen and typed in the code. A red light appeared on the map. It looked like Valerian was deep in the heart of the technological section of the station. He was right in the middle of a major intersection.
“Valerian? I’ve got you on visual,” she said.
“Okay, but I’ve lost track of them. Try to locate the commander!”
Laureline typed in the message, but instead of the location of the missing Filitt, the face of the minister of defense appeared on-screen.
“Agent Laureline here,” Laureline said. “I need to access the genetic code of Commander Arun Filitt.”
But the minister was shaking his head. “Those codes are strictly confidential, Agent Laureline,” the minister chided. “You know very well I—”
Laureline had no time for this. She placed her hand over a scanner that glowed red when she touched it. “The commander has been abducted,” she stated. “If we don’t get a lock on him in the next minute, we’ll lose him.”
The scanner turned green.
Okto-Bar read the result aloud. “Lie detection result: negative, sir. And I can confirm that the commander’s been taken.”
The official hesitated. Then he nodded. “Very well. Access granted.”
Laureline entered the code as soon as the minister of defense sent it through, and another red dot appeared on the virtual map. She exhaled in relief.
“Thank you, sir. Okay, Valerian, I’ve got a fix on him. He’s near the docking bay. The intruders must be headed for their vessel.”
“Okay! What’s the shortest way there?” asked Valerian.
“North-northeast,” Laureline replied. “One hundred thirteen degrees.”
* * *
Valerian spun around, following the digital compass on his wrist. He lifted his head and blinked.
“North… East… Laureline, that leads me straight into a wall!”
“You said you wanted the shortest way!”
Valerian sighed. He had said the shortest way, hadn’t he? He hit a button on his sleeve. With a series of snapping sounds, his combat suit morphed into a solid shell. He took a moment to steel himself for the experience, then he started running.
He’d done this before, so he knew it didn’t physically affect him in any way. Even so, he found his stomach tightened every time he ran into a wall full tilt.
But that very normal human reaction didn’t slow him one bit. Valerian sped up and crashed through the black metal wall, and the chase was on. He was in the west part of the station—the humanoid area. He continued his straight, shortest path, crashing through corridor halls, into private domiciles, and charging through public recreation and shopping areas.
He was so focused on what was ahead of him that at one point he almost didn’t see what was underneath his feet—or, rather, what wasn’t underneath his feet; he exploded through a wall and into open space. Various small spacecrafts went about their business as Valerian plunged downward, the surrounding buildings black monoliths sprinkled with lights here and there. Streams of magenta and blue lighting marked walkway tubes that connected the buildings. His suit’s default setting was to operate at all times as if he were in normal gravity unless specifically reprogramed. He was therefore hurtling downward directly at one of the walkway tubes right now, and he frantically tapped in the key that changed his suit from one that smashed right through solid matter to one that didn’t.
He had to get the timing just right—
> Valerian crashed through the clear top of the tube and, just in time, his suit transformed so that he landed safely on the corridor’s floor instead of continuing right through it, albeit on his hands and knees.
There were several other humans in the corridor, understandably startled by his appearance. They cringed back as they ducked the falling chunks of clear debris, but no one looked hurt. They’d be fine; already the breach Valerian and his suit had made had sealed with a protective force field.
“Alex,” he yelled, “give me the surfacer setting!”
“Right away,” Alex replied promptly. “Reconfigured,” she said an instant later.
Valerian took off again. “This may be the shortest way, but it’s sure not the easiest one,” Valerian said to Laureline, panting. The suit protected him from physical damage and gave him added strength, but any speed was still his own.
“Keep going,” encouraged Laureline’s voice. “You’re losing them!”
“I said, I’m doing my best!”
“Do it faster!”
Valerian bit back a retort. Right now, he needed his breath to keep running. He sprinted down the enclosed translucent passage as long as it took him where he wanted to go. It opened up onto a building of small apartments, continuing straight as the hallway turned left. He was vaguely aware that one wall of an Arysum-Kormn family’s home was of a translucent material as he raced through it, but he didn’t realize that it was actually a window until he’d shattered it into a few hundred shards and found that he was, once again, hurtling downward.
This time, though, he was prepared. Alex had reconfigured his weapon to produce a deceptively thin, glowing plasma disk with a diameter of about four feet. Valerian struck it with his right foot and launched off, firing ahead of himself before every leap.
He sprang forward from the last plasma disk into the Azin Mö nuclei cluster field. He winced as he did so. The station’s doctor race crafted orbs of various genetic materials for emergencies, and there was no way Valerian wasn’t going to step on quite a lot of them. Well, that was Arun Filitt’s problem as the commander of Alpha and the one being rescued, not his, Valerian thought as he stormed through the cluster field shouting “Sorry!” and smashed his way out the other end. It was some consolation to him that the Azin Mö tended hundreds of cluster fields, and this one looked to have tens of thousands of soft, radiant orbs.
Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets Page 11
