StarHawk (3 page)

The rescue ship arrived two days later.

It had picked up the SOS signal sent out by Erx and Berx right before their ship went in. As the closest military vessel of any size to Fools 6, this vessel had diverted from its course and appeared soon after the red giant’s morning sunrise.

The ship’s captain was a highly decorated star commander named Zap Multx. He was a ninety-seven-year veteran of the Fourth Empire’s Space Navy. He was a huge, imposing man nearly twice the size of either Erx or Berx. His head was shaved in the style of the time, and he sported a very long, thin goatee. His vessel was the
BonoVox
, an M-Class battle cruiser. It was a massive warship, two miles long and 3.5 million tons earthweight. Like all Empire starships, it was shaped like a gigantic wedge.

A small city of glass-bubble control decks dominated its upper shell, hundreds of weapons systems studded its immense fuselage below.

The
BonoVox
also was a troop carrier. More than twenty-two thousand Space Marines were quartered in its lower decks. Essentially these soldiers were Multx’s private army. They were highly trained, highly motivated, battle-hardened special operations troops.

And at the moment, they were in a hurry.

***

Berx and Erx were sitting in Multx’s opulent commander’s cabin. They had beamed up to the starship shortly after it appeared above Fools 6.

Multx knew the two explorers well; their paths had crossed many times over the past century.

Nevertheless, he made it clear to them that he was in a rush.

“If I hadn’t heard it was you two stuck way out here, I would have never changed my course,” Multx told them now. “I’m falling behind schedule as it is.”

“Important matters somewhere else?” Erx had asked him.

“Only the Selesian System War,” Multx replied with a sniff. “I am relieving Loy Staxx and his army. His men are, well, fatigued… or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

Erx and Berx could read between the lines. Multx and his men were relieving a space corps that couldn’t do the job.

“It must be tough going out there,” Berx said, trying to feed Multx’s gigantic ego and meeting with some success. “Sileasia is not a pretty neighborhood.”

“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Multx replied with confidence. “Nine planets have been cleared, but three remain full of pirates, bandits, and assorted misfits. Still, it seems to be a mopping-up operation. I can’t understand why Staxx’s corps could not handle it.”

“You will have no problems, that’s for sure,” Erx told him.

“We rarely do,” Multx replied with a wave of his hand.

“So we may hitch a ride with you then?” Berx asked him.

“Certainly. It will give you a chance to see my men in action. We will be returning to the Pluto Cloud after that. I can deposit you somewhere in that region, I trust?”

“So close to Earth?” Erx asked excitedly. “Gladly.”

They took the next few minutes briefing Multx on their crash landing, their near-miraculous escape, and the many skills of their mysterious rescuer.

Multx was intrigued.

“This man Hunter you go on about,” he said. “How could he possibly learn to fly so well he was able to escape a prop core explosion? If he is the only living being on this planet, where did he take his training?

Learn his technique?”

Erx licked his lips. He was still buzzing from two days of drinking Hunter’s slow-ship wine.

“We have no idea—and neither does he,” the spaceman replied. “He’s a different sort, that’s for sure.”

“Yet he’s been nothing but helpful toward us,” Berx interjected. “We have been his guests for two days here and it’s been extremely hospitable as well as interesting. He knows every inch of this forlorn planet. He has many unusual devices made from his own designs.”

“He’s quite clever and bold—without being a smart-ass about it,” Erx added.

“But are you certain he’s even human?” Multx asked. “Perhaps he’s one of those well-constructed robots from years past. You know how some of the good ones were? They actually
believed
they were human.”

“He’s definitely not a robot,” Berx said. “I scanned him: He is flesh and blood.”

“But where he came from
is
a puzzle,” Erx went on. “As we said, he doesn’t even know himself. Yet I feel it unlikely that he was the passenger of a crashed ship and just doesn’t remember. Nor do I believe he was ever part of the Empire Forces—either Outward or In-Close.”

“What makes you so sure of that?” Multx asked. “His flying ability seems on a level of our master pilots.”

“Which is exactly why a pilot of his ability would not be flying around in a two-million-ton spaceship.

More likely he would have been identified by Space Forces Command upon entering military service and assigned to a front-line star-fighter unit. My God, he’d be a senior master pilot—the
master
of senior master pilots, even.”

“And the craft he flies,” Berx went on. “It is the most unusual thing I’ve ever seen. It can go extremely fast, yet it defies all of our latest design functions. It actually has wings. And wheels.”

“
Wheels
?” Multx asked. “What for?”

“That’s how he keeps it from hitting the ground,” Erx replied. “He does not park it in the hover mode. At least I don’t think he does.”

“But it is the speed of his craft,” Berx reiterated. “He’s told us that he usually flies it at one-one-hundredth throttle. Yet the thing reaches incredible velocities very quickly.”

Multx thought a moment.

“Perhaps in the excitement of being saved, you two have exaggerated these things in your mind,” he told them. “It’s a common problem in combat. We get many reports of people doing very heroic things, and—”

“We have seen him fly since, Zap,” Berx said, gently interrupting. “He turns out his magnificent contraption twice a day. He performed maneuvers for us that were mind-blowing. And as I said, he did so at speeds that were simply remarkable.”

“And that’s while in-atmosphere,” Erx added. “I can’t imagine his skills in space.”

“Well, his ‘contraption’ certainly can’t be faster than our own space fighters,” Multx asked them.

“Right?”

Erx and Berx exchanged glances. It was considered impolite to criticize any of the Empire’s military hardware, no matter how slight.

“That’s hard to determine with the naked eye,” Berx replied cautiously. “But I believe this man could fly anything. And do it well.”

Multx mulled this over for a few moments. Finally he said: “Well, whoever he is, he’ll be coming with us as well.”

Berx and Erx were taken aback.

“Coming with us?” Erx asked. “Why would that be?”

Multx leaned back in his floating chair and spoke to the ceiling.

“If he’s as good as you two say, denying his talents would not be in the best interests of the Empire.

Every person in this Galaxy is a citizen of it. Every person may enjoy its fruits. But every person also must contribute for the good of all.”

The starship commander was speaking the correct words… but Erx and Berx knew he had other things in mind. A starfighter pilot for his own personal Air Guard perhaps?

“You can’t just snatch him up and carry him away,” Berx said to Multx. “He seems very content here.”

“Besides,” Erx chimed in, “this man saved our lives. An act of goodwill on his part should not become a detriment to his future.”

“Do you really think bringing him to Earth would be a detriment to his future?” Multx asked them suddenly.

To Earth
?

Now the two explorers were simply confused. Even the highest officials of the Empire were lucky if they could get across the Pluto Cloud, never mind anywhere near the home planet. It was the same for military officers. Access to the motherworld was restricted to all but the extremely privileged. Why, then, had Multx spoken the holy word of Earth?

“What are you up to, you old fox!” Erx cried. “Clue us in…”

Multx seemed to resist, but only for a moment. The three of them
did
have a history together. As young soldiers, they’d fought in sixteen major wars and dozens of smaller ones, all before Erx and Berx joined the Empire’s exploratory corps. Multx knew the two men could be trusted and even helpful. Besides, it was considered bad luck these days to exclude friends from grandiose plans.

Multx snapped his fingers, and a small control panel materialized from nowhere. He pushed a series of buttons, and the walls of his quarters began to vibrate slightly. He had activated a hum beam. They were now immune to any form of physical intrusion or eavesdropping, either long-range or close by.

“My friends,” Multx began, “being out on the Fringe for so long has dulled your brain cells. Think… we might have a pilot of extraordinary skill here. Someone who, if you speak the truth, might be better than any starfighter pilot we’ve seen in our long lifetimes.”

“True,” Erx and Berx spoke at once.

“Then what event upcoming on Earth might warrant this man’s attendance?”

The explorers looked at each other and thought a moment. It came to them simultaneously.

“
The Earth Race
…” Erx whispered.

Multx smiled.

“Bingo,” he said.

The Earth Race was an annual event that pitted the best pilots in the Empire against each other in a twenty-five-thousand-mile, obstacle-strewn, multidimensional contest.

Few things in the Galaxy generated so much excitement. The Emperor himself claimed to be a starfighter pilot in a previous life and thus had great affection for the competition. The hundreds of trillions of subjects within his domain did as well.

It was no exaggeration to say that the winner of the Earth Race would find the Empire at his feet. Untold riches were showered on the champion, including a permanent residence on Earth itself. By tradition, the winner also could have his pick of any assignment at any rank at any post in the Empire. Neither he nor his family would ever want for anything again; in fact, the largesse would be so vast, the winner’s descendants would be well off for many generations to come.

But the rewards of the Earth Race did not stop with the winner himself. Those responsible for getting the right pilot in the right place at the right time in the right machine—they, too, were grandly compensated.

For years, Multx had kept his eyes open, looking for a pilot of extraordinary skill. Throughout the many battles he’d fought, the thought of spotting a special flier in action was never very far from his mind. It was the same for all high officers of the Empire Forces—and the most ordinary of citizens, too. Being associated with the winner of the Earth Race could be the crowning achievement of a long lifetime.

“My God,” Erx whispered now. “Our brains
have
been dulled! This should have been our first intuition as soon as we realized what Hunter could do.”

He turned back to Multx. “What is your plan, Zap?” he asked in a very conspiratorial manner. “And can we be involved?”

“If this man is all you say he is, the answer is yes,” Multx replied. “The race is but a few weeks away, so the stars are on our side. I have a close connection within the organizing committee. At the very least this person will observe our pilot. If he’s that good, my friend will get him in.”

“You can get him through the Pluto Cloud?” Berx asked.

“Not a problem,” Multx replied.

“But we must be very cautious,” Erx urged. “It has not been unknown for a new pilot to be snatched away by people higher in stature than us. My fear is word of Hunter’s ability will travel fast, and some counsel to the Emperor will co-opt us. You know how nasty that Most Fortunate Earth crowd can be. They would vaporize their favorite relative if it meant getting close to the winner of the Earth Race.”

“As would I,” Multx said without missing a beat.

“And I,” Berx said.

“That’s why we must be wise, my brothers,” Multx went on. “And keep all knowledge of Mister Hunter very low.”

All three were silent for a moment.

“The fact that he is a man from nowhere can actually work in our favor, then,” Erx finally said. ”Even if someone hears whisper of his name, there will be no way of looking him up.”

“Indeed,” Multx said. “Now, we all know the race organizers love a bit of intrigue, so entering an unknown at the last minute will probably be to their liking. I will arrange with one of them to get Mister Hunter through the Pluto Cloud. But until then, we must keep this among ourselves. And Mister Hunter must stay obscure.”

He regally cleared his throat.

“Now I cannot place myself on Earth to pursue this matter so early in the game,” he went on, fingers to chin, stroking his goatee. “I have many things to do, and not doing them would be considered a dereliction of duty. You two, on the other hand, well…”

“What? We have nothing else to do?” Berx asked, insulted. “Is that what you’re getting at?”

Erx interrupted again. “If it is, he’s exactly right. It will take us months to get another ship. If he can arrange it, I’ll happily go to Earth.”

Erx again turned back to Multx.

“But we still have a problem,” he said. “How do we justify taking this man Hunter from his home?”

Multx thought a moment. “Ah! I will arrest him on suspicion of being a spy. The way things are out here on the Fringe these days, just about anyone could be held on suspicion of espionage.”

“I protest!” Berx cried. “This man is hardly a
spy
. There is nothing out here to spy on…”

Multx relented on that point. He thought a few more moments.

“Well, how about this? According to you, he vandalized a ship of the Empire to build that vessel of his,” the commander said. “That’s certainly an offense that warrants arresting him and transporting him for further investigation.”

This time it was Erx who erupted.

“His actions can hardly be called
vandalism
,” he told Multx loudly. “My brother, from those dull pieces he created a flying machine of extraordinary ability. It’s truly a work of art. You cannot put a man in irons because he created a masterpiece, no matter what the pretense.”