It pained them to do so, but the explorers raised no objections to this. Though a jail cell was not much different from his original billet, Erx and Berx felt responsible for Hunter’s plight. But it would be wise not to argue against Multx’s decree.
Time to change the subject.
“We, too, watched the battle closely,” Erx told him, trying to pump Multx back up again. “We could tell it went just as planned. Your troops were sterling in action. Your strategies, flawless.”
Multx leaned back against the wall and rubbed his tired eyes.
“All true,” he told them. “But this fight was not pretty, my brothers. Far from it.”
Erx and Berx fell silent. What was the matter here? Where was the eternally confident Multx? The ever-boastful Multx? Multx the warrior? Multx the conqueror? The man known as the most-connected officer in the Space Navy? Certainly the incident with Hunter was not all that was weighing on him.
Finally Erx leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“I must tell you, old friend,” he said to Multx, “I’ve seen you looking better. Is something else troubling you?”
Berx jumped in: “You’ve just won a major engagement, Zap. So it did not go as ‘cleanly’ as you hoped — war is not supposed to be clean. We all know that. Why then so low?”
Multx hesitated for a moment. Rarely did anyone speak to him on such a personal level. But he knew his friends were right.
“I cannot answer why I feel this way,” he finally revealed, looking down at his hands. “Because I do not know myself.”
He paused to take a breath. It was almost painful to watch.
“I realize I have just eliminated a problem that has been plaguing the Empire for too long,” he went on.
“And did it quickly, too. Therefore I should be deliriously happy. Yet I am not, because I can’t get rid of this notion that something bad is about to happen. To me. To this ship. To all of us.”
“An intuition, you mean?”
“Something like that,” Multx replied.
The star commander looked up at them, his face more ashen than before.
“And I cannot tell you, comrades, just what an unpleasant feeling it is…”
7
Fly down to the dry sea today…
Yes, that might be a good idea. See the south side of the sky for one last time and then hurry back. The false sunset looks blood red today, especially from fifty thousand feet. Bury the throttles, lean back in the cockpit, open the canopy, and stick his arms out. Now you’re really flying, man. Helmet off. Belts unbuckled. The beams from the crimson giant wash over the face, warming whatever it was beneath the skin. Can the embers of a dying star actually touch the soul? Can they penetrate and open any memories stored there?
Through the scarlet cloud, turning this way and that. The sky, spectacular. Throttles forward. Yes, everything is a blur. But life is not just about being good, it’s about being better. Right on time, the face appears on the clouds ahead. The red giant glows brighter. The clouds swirl. He sees her smile. He hears her laugh.
You must see this.
Then…
Suddenly Hunter was awake.
The ship’s Klaxons began blaring so loudly, he almost fell from his bunk. What was going on? They were twice as urgent as the day before. Was the ship about to fight another battle? So soon?
Now the lights inside his cell started flashing wildly. The thunder of boots running through the ship could be heard once again. Hunter was off his bunk and by the cell door in a flash. It did not dematerialize before his eyes this time. Rather it slid open cleanly. A security officer was standing on the other side.
Behind him, soldiers were rushing up and down the long corridor. Some were dressed in battle gear, some not.
“What’s happening?” Hunter yelled to the security man.
“Wake up, man!” the officer yelled back. “The ship is under attack! All prisoners are to report to the evacuation bay!”
Under attack?
“By who?” Hunter yelled at the security man, but the man was already gone, lost in the stream of troops.
Hunter tried to get his bearings. He wasn’t even sure what part of the ship he was in. The chaos of the passageway was only getting worse. Lights flashing, the Klaxons at earsplitting level. Soldiers pushing their way around each other, running in different directions.
Where the hell was the evacuation bay?
Hunter began moving with the stampede. He found his way to a balcony similar to the one from which he’d watched the attack on Vines 67. The vast war chamber lay in front of him once again. But something was wrong here. Soldiers seemed to be stumbling this way and that, floating, colliding, falling.
Gone was the choreography, gone were the fluidity and well-drilled movement. At best there was controlled pandemonium inside the war chamber. At worst, panic.
Some of the troop transports were floating at the top of the chamber, but the soldiers in motion were ignoring them. Instead, the troops were igniting their rocket packs and hurling themselves directly through the huge protective membrane and into the wilds of outer space beyond.
What was happening here? Hunter didn’t have a clue at first. Were these men abandoning ship?
Dozens of ship’s security men were rushing by him now, but none of them gave a second look. Hunter moved down the passageway to the nearest observation bubble. Beyond the glass was an even more fantastic sight!
Far from jumping ship, the stream of troopers leaving the BonoVox were meeting a stream of other spacemen heading in the opposite direction. These unknowns were coming from a huge ship that had materialized off the BonoVox’s starboard side, not two hundred yards away. This vessel was black, very sinister in appearance. While it was less sleek, less impressive than the BonoVox, it was bristling with small weapons and was dispensing armed spacemen as fast as the Empire ship could spit out soldiers to stop them.
Hundreds of soldiers began fighting within the small area between the ships. Some were shooting ray guns, others were engaged in vicious hand-to-hand combat. Space was suddenly filled with colors. The bright yellow of rocket packs. The deep red of ray gun blasts. Powerful beams from hundreds of weapons were streaking off in all directions. The sudden ferocity of the battle was simply mind-boggling.
Those hit directly by a ray gun blast found themselves propelled at high speed off into deep space, a gaping hole in their spacesuits, and leaving only a trail of blood bubbles behind. Others were simply exploding whenever an enemy ray gun blast hit their own weapons’ supply. A dark red mist was enveloping the fighting now. Hunter even thought he could hear men screaming as they fought and died out in the void.
Do something…
Hunter felt a strange sensation rise up from the back of his neck. It was coming from deep within his brain. A voice seemed to be speaking to him, riding billions of receptors to the base of his skull. The voice sounded very much like his own. The BonoVox was in danger. That meant he was in danger as well.
Do something…
The next thing Hunter knew, he was running.
Down the passageway, past the balcony, down a descent tube to the entrance to the vast war chamber itself. He jumped right through the force field protecting the main door. He found himself being lifted up to the chamber’s ceiling.