“They’ll find a way to get to us, and we’re trapped in here!” Laureline retorted.
“No, we’re not,” Valerian replied. “There’s got to be a way to empty the trash, so that means there has to be a door.”
They looked at each other, then down at the dead carcasses, rotting fruit, and other unsavory items that were doubtless piled layers thick beneath their feet.
Abruptly, they were falling again, this time along with all the trash surrounding them and tumbling over their heads. Gasping, they clawed their way desperately to where they could breathe. Valerian looked around triumphantly.
“I told you there was a door,” Valerian said reasonably.
Laureline got up awkwardly, plucking a scale the size of her palm from her hair. “You didn’t study the plans before you came rushing in. As usual.”
As she finished extricating herself, she came face to face with a humanoid skeleton. She blinked, swallowed, checked out its clothing, and began to remove it. Valerian did think it was somewhat less filthy than what she was wearing.
“You’d rather I got here after the main event?” Valerian asked, indicating the skeleton.
Laureline sighed. “I’d rather you took me someplace other than a giant trash can!”
Valerian scowled. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be brainless right now!”
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Laureline grinned. “That would make two of us.”
“Oh yeah?” Valerian shot back. He was starting to get really pissed off now. “And who got it into her head to go butterfly hunting near canyons?”
“And who can’t even drive a Sky Jet?” She glared at him.
“And who nearly got me killed because she can’t read numbers the right way up?”
“Who would be one arm lighter if I hadn’t been able to repair a transmitter in under thirty seconds?”
Valerian was almost purple with outrage. “I just saved your life and that’s the thanks I get?”
“I saved yours, remember? And I nearly got my brain sucked by a jellyfish to find you!”
“What is it with you and almost losing your brain?” exclaimed Valerian.
“Hey… guys?” The soft voice belonged to Bubble.
The arguing pair turned and, as one, snapped, “What?”
“I don’t feel so good…”
Valerian’s anger vanished, to be replaced by concern. Bubble had almost, but not entirely, resumed a female human shape. And instead of the cool blue he remembered her natural color being, she was turning the ugly purple of a bruise. She lifted a featureless face up to him as he slogged through the trash over to where she had propped herself up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried now.
“I must’ve been injured during the fight.” Her voice was faint, and as she spoke her body began to turn from purple to red. Bubble strained, wincing, and for an instant the features of the cabaret dancer flitted across the blank canvas of her face.
The fight… Valerian had fought like a madman, certain that the blades wielded by the guards weren’t even touching him because he was just that good. Of course the weapons hadn’t struck him—Bubble had protected him with her own body, taking blows meant for him. He hadn’t even thought about her—he was too busy being headstrong, impulsive Valerian. And now—
“Bubble!” he murmured. “No, no… I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do!”
The slit of her mouth turned upward in a lopsided attempt at a smile that broke his heart.
“There’s not much you can do. It’s all right. Where I come from, death is less painful than life.”
The words were a knife. “Don’t say that!”
Bubble gave him a faint smile. “Unfortunately, it’s true. Life’s a drag when you never have an identity to call your own.”
Taken aback, Valerian suddenly smiled at Bubble. He cradled her in his arms, very tenderly. “But you do have an identity. You’re a hero. And more than that—you’re the greatest artiste I have ever seen.”
Bubble’s blank eyes filled with scarlet tears. “I thank you. It was a pleasure performing for you. Just… one last role…”
Her face screwed up with effort. Then, suddenly, her color shimmered, cutting through the red into white cloth, gold jewelry, smooth brown skin, and sleek black hair. Eyes decorated with exaggerated black lines crinkled in a smile.
Nefertiti.
“I leave you my kingdom,” she said, her voice sonorous and strong, though her body was failing. “Take good care of it.”
“I will,” Valerian promised her solemnly.
Through her pain, Bubble continued to struggle to speak. “Most importantly…”
“Yes?”
The Queen of Egypt—or more importantly to Valerian, a big-hearted glamopod—extended an arm in the direction of Laureline, who stood a few steps away, eyes wide and silent. “Take good care of her. Love her without measure.” She smiled gently. “‘There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.’”
Bubble closed her eyes and sank back into Valerian’s arms. As he held her and watched in grieving, respectful silence, her body began to solidify until it became rock hard—an ancient statue of Nefertiti. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, she crumbled into sand, trickling through Valerian’s arms till nothing was there.
Valerian stared at the pile of sand, feeling lost and alone. Something brushed his shoulder, and he looked up to see Laureline gazing down at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
Valerian’s own eyes filled as well as he reached up and took her hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
General Okto-Bar stood at the console. His eyes were on the ships gathering in preparation for… what? War? Evacuation of the station? The more facts that came to light, the murkier everything seemed to become.
Sergeant Neza stepped beside his commanding officer. “All the battleships have docked, General,” Neza informed him.
Okto-Bar glanced at the map. He saw no signal from his agents. But he did see that the red spot in the center of the station had increased.
“I want Section One operative now,” Okto-Bar ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” His eyes flitted to the doorway—and the large, featureless, black metal robot that stood there. “What is this K-TRON doing here?”
“Commander Filitt’s orders,” Neza answered. “He personally programmed them, and he’s therefore the only one who can deactivate them.”
What the hell did he program them to do if he was killed? Okto-Bar wondered, but did not say. The general eyed them. They endured the scrutiny with their usual stoic silence. “So, we’re stuck with them until we find their master?”
“No, sir, not at all. Once you choose the section to execute the operation, the K-TRON will follow and assist them.”
“Great,” grumbled the general. “That’s all we need.”
Valerian and Laureline walked along a trail that became ever narrower and rockier, as if they were headed into the center of a planet. They moved steadily and briskly, but there was a somberness that dogged their steps. So much had happened in so short a time, and they were still no closer to finding out what had happened with Commander Filitt, or the identities of the mysterious aliens who had kidnapped him—including the one who Valerian knew he had seen before. They hadn’t spoken much since… since Bubble.
At one point, they passed the wreck of a spaceship, and Laureline asked, “You know where you’re going?”
“Sure. I mean, I guess…” Valerian replied. He frowned a little.
“You’re sure, or you guess?” prodded Laureline.
He gave an exasperated little grunt and looked at her. “Don’t ask how, but the princess, the one in my dream… she’s guiding me.”