Star Blaze (8 page)

“My mistake, it seems,” snarled the alien. “You are cleared to land … Talamine Spaceport. Sending through approach vector.”

Johnny smiled. He couldn't wait to see the Emperor and tell
him everything that had happened over the last few days and make sure Earth would be safe. Bram was the wisest person he'd ever met and the only one Johnny could speak to about Nicky and his family. A real bonus was that the Emperor should be able to tell Johnny more about his mum—incredibly, thousands of years earlier when Bram had first become the ruler of the galaxy, Johnny now knew his mother had been there helping. Hopefully the Emperor would be there to greet them when they landed.

No spacecraft were allowed to overfly the Imperial Palace, but the route to the landing site took the
Spirit of London
close enough to see the giant blue tower at the very center of the Emperor's home, and the concentric rings of land and sea centered around it. The beautiful white stone buildings of the abandoned Imperial University glistened on the shores of the second circle of land, but the Hall of Plicans and other notable buildings were too small to be picked out as they flew by, arcing toward Talamine, perhaps the busiest spaceport anywhere in the Milky Way.

Ships of all shapes and sizes passed in the other direction, a mixture of glittering small, spherical balls of light, giant cigar-shaped tourist vessels, brick-like Ke Kwan cargo freighters, sleek fighters from the Imperial Navy and even saucer-shaped discs that clearly didn't only make appearances in old-fashioned science fiction films. Sol was given a prime landing spot and settled as softly as a dandelion head in the appointed space.

Alf was especially excited to be back on his homeworld. Johnny, Bentley (his fur still matted with orange goo) and, reluctantly, Clara followed the android down the antigrav lifts to the main doors at the foot of the
Spirit of London
. Clara might be able to fold space, but it didn't stop her being terrified of
heights—stepping into thin air to be transported through the ship never seemed to get easier for her. Johnny and Bentley both loved it. It reminded Johnny of cartoons where a character like the Pink Panther would walk off a cliff and be able to keep going for a few moments before realizing he was in mid-air and plummeting to the ground. Sometimes he'd even hum the theme tune as he entered the seemingly empty shaft but, unlike with the Pink Panther, he was glad the “falling” part aboard the
Spirit of London
was rather more controlled. As they reached the bottom, Johnny slapped the statue of the giant silver alien in the lobby for luck.

It didn't seem to have worked. When he looked out through the clear walls it wasn't Bram he saw. Instead, a familiar-looking three-meter high Phasmeer was standing outside the revolving doors. It might simply have been the sunlight, but its robes were glowing pink. This was the new Chancellor, whom Johnny had found himself speaking to only the other night. Considering the previous incumbent of the role, Chancellor Gronack, turned out to have been spying for the Andromedans, he'd developed a dislike for the species that his only conversation with the new Chancellor had simply reinforced.

“Can't take no for an answer, can you?” squeaked the Phasmeer, as Johnny stepped out of one of the four sets of revolving doors, keeping a tight hold of Bentley's lead. As soon as he was outside, he felt crushed by his own weight. One of the drawbacks of Melania he'd forgotten was the strong gravity. The Chancellor, with the benefit of a portable antigrav assist, hovered about half a meter above the ground in front of them. “I told you he wouldn't see you,” it continued, speaking loudly and slowly in Universal, as though its audience might not understand.

“Why not? Where is he?” Johnny asked.

“I do not discuss the whereabouts of His Divine Imperial
Majesty Emperor Bram Khari with barbarians from the periphery,” squawked the Phasmeer, turning an ever deeper red.

“I do believe there must be some mistake,” said Alf, stepping in front of Johnny. “I was formerly Chief of His Majesty's Household …”

“Ah yes, the robot,” interrupted the Phasmeer. It was a label Alf hated. “There is no mistake. If I had my way you would be sent back to whatever unspeakable planet it is you came from, but you will have an audience.”

“Thank you,” said Alf. Johnny was always impressed by the android's self-control.

“For some inexplicable reason, you have been granted an audience with the Regent,” said the Phasmeer. “Follow me.” At which point it turned and floated away up some wide marble steps.

Alf followed without difficulty, but Johnny, Clara and Bentley struggled to keep up, until the Phasmeer slowed, having lost control of its antigrav device, and began to bash repeatedly into the stone staircase. Johnny laughed and turned to Clara. She was smiling too, but concentrating hard at the same time. The silver flecks in her eyes were shining brightly.

“I've got to practice,” she said innocently, as she repeatedly folded and unfolded the space between the Chancellor and the marble steps.

Reaching the top, in the area known as the Senate Platform, the view opened out and the warm, dry air engulfed them. Johnny glanced longingly toward the needle-like blue tower, many kilometers high, far away on the horizon. Closer to hand, immediately in front of them, was a moving walkway, a travelator wider than a motorway, that led toward a large, domed building. Still bouncing up and down, the Chancellor fell onto it and got to its feet with its robes even redder. The others followed. It was a relief not to have to climb any more
stairs. Bentley lay down on the walkway, his tongue hanging out as he panted loudly.

Johnny swatted away a couple of insects buzzing around him and turned to look behind. The nosecone of the
Spirit of London
was visible above the top of the steps. He was proud his ship didn't look at all out of place. He turned back to find Clara and Bentley peering through the walkway, which was solid yet see-through. Melania didn't stop on the surface. Beneath their feet the vast city continued, many kilometers down, buzzing with activity like an ant colony. Flying ships and winged aliens wove their way at frightening speeds between the tops of underground towers, reaching up from below like enormous stalagmites. Clara nudged Johnny and he looked up. The walkway was flanked on one side by seven statues, tens of meters high, ancient yet still recognizable as they glittered red, their diamond structures reflecting the sunlight.

“The other emperors,” said Alf. “From Themissa to Ophion.”

Clara caught Johnny's eye. The very first statue wore a powerful, yet kindly face. It reminded Johnny of their mum.

“Themissa created the Empire after the fall of Lysentia,” the android continued. “She brought order out of the chaos—the galaxy has been grateful ever since.”

“The galaxy has outgrown such fairytales,” squeaked the Chancellor. “It is the Senate that maintains order. Speaking of which, we have arrived.” The wide travelator ended in front of a giant, curved wall, made of some sort of smooth black shiny stone. “The Senate sits in emergency session. You will wait in an anteroom until you are summoned.”

The Chancellor led Johnny and the others through a massive entrance, thirty meters high, that opened into a courtyard, covered by a clear domed roof through which one of Melania's twin suns shone weakly. At the center of the courtyard stood a round building, made of white stone, crumbling in parts, which
looked so ancient it smelt of history. This had to be the Senate itself. But they turned away from it and walked across the giant flagstones (engraved with strange hieroglyphs), passing aliens of many different shapes and sizes. Their hides like elephants, the floating balls that were Hundras hovered above spots where different species gathered, glowing red as they translated the various interstellar languages. Johnny had to stop Bentley barking at them and was glad he'd put the Old English sheepdog on a lead.

Eventually, they went through another oversized opening and into a side chamber with golden walls and a spectacular ceiling glistening with precious stones. As Johnny stared upward, he saw that they had been positioned to represent specific stars—massive rubies twinkled in place of red giants, while occasional sapphires showed the few young blue stars that were visible in the skies above Melania. What dominated the ceiling, though, was a vast circle of blackness—the supermassive black hole at the very heart of the galaxy.

Although the room was indoors and covered, a stream ran through it, lined by trees with long leaves like ribbons that swayed in a non-existent breeze. Bentley collapsed underneath one of them and began to lap at the water.

The Chancellor gave the sheepdog a look of total disdain, but didn't prevent Bentley drinking. “Wait here,” said the Phasmeer, and floated away out of the room.

Clara sat down by the stream to get her own breath back and started stroking Bentley. Alf disappeared in search of some sort of news service to catch up on what had been happening, leaving Johnny to gaze around the antechamber. Just this one room was the size of a football ground. Around the walls were inscriptions carved into the golden stone—Johnny had to rely on his lessons from Alf to try to make sense of the writing, as the fleck of the Hundra's soul inside him could only translate
spoken languages. It proved beyond him. Instead, he looked around at the few different aliens scattered about. All were alone and it was odd that he had to squint to focus properly on them—as though they were surrounded by some sort of haze. For a few moments Johnny studied a curiously blurred hexapod fairly close by. All six of its legs were moving forward, yet it remained exactly where it was.

Puzzled, he lay down on his back on top of the springy floor and gazed up at the ceiling. In the outer reaches of the Milky Way, stars were spread out. The Toliman system had been the closest to Earth's Sun (which the rest of the galaxy called Sol), but even that was four light years away. Here, at the galaxy's core, stars were much more tightly packed. That was why the night sky remained so bright, despite the lights of Melania trying to blot them out. During the time he'd spent at the Imperial Palace, the view had been nothing short of spectacular. As Johnny studied the ceiling now, he thought he could identify a few stars and, if he was right, could even see the diamond-shaped constellation Portia (Bram had said it meant “the doorkeeper” in an ancient tongue) that was the Emperor's symbol.

The jeweled sky became fuzzy. Johnny sat up and found his face squidged against something he couldn't see, as if clingfilm had been stretched across it. For a moment he panicked, but the next thing he knew he'd passed through the strange membrane and found himself inside a clear sphere, four or five meters across. As he got to his feet a smug voice, backed by eerie high tempo music, spoke from all around, saying, “Thank you for choosing the Milky Way News Network—the number one Vermalcast of all the news, all of the time, from all across the galaxy.” Johnny had never heard of a Vermalcast but presumed he was in it. Against background music, the voice continued, “In the news this hour …
Senate Stalemate
—today's crucial vote
on war funding hangs in the balance.
Hundra Horror
—at a ceremony welcoming five threatened star systems under Regency protection, the local President touches a hovering translator and is instantly killed. Hear Chancellor Karragon explain the diplomatic oversight.
The Absent Emperor
—a special report by Z'habar Z'habar Estagog. And
Sport
—the latest stage of the Aldebaran to Mizar Rally. Can anyone catch Sebes Kiksapongo? Approach your story now. To the left and right and in front and behind, an image from each of the options had been projected onto the clear walls of the bubble.”

Johnny moved to his right toward Bram Khari's familiar face, hoping this was how he chose the story he wanted. It seemed to work. He couldn't reach the side of the sphere—it rotated beneath him as he walked—but the figure of a far younger Bram, very like the one he'd met in the distant past, crystallized before him, fully three-dimensional. The Emperor was wearing a white top displaying the four stars of Portia, with black trousers, as he stepped out of an enormous spaceship and waved to massed crowds surrounding Johnny. It was just like being there. Hovering only a little above Bram was a very curious, six-legged alien with two sets of thin, insect-like wings which were beating so quickly they formed a solid blur. The creature had a long, twisted neck like a double helix, above which sat two completely separate, but apparently identical, heads. One of them began speaking and, after a few seconds, the other joined in.

“We've all seen the footage. Long before almost any of today's Imperial citizens were alive—
ignoring the unfeasibly odorous Erumpeton of Deneb Six, who claims the secret to her hundred millennia lifespan is imbibing those bodily waste products the rest of us prefer to discard
—a young Senator, Bram Khari, returned to Melania with a mysterious being from Atlantis (
a civilization that had threatened to seize control of the galaxy
).”