Robert E Mills, page 2
Dann's experience of the horrors of war and the inevitable mortal pains that attend separation and the death and loss of lov~d ones had been balanced by life's positive gifts. He had gained friends and family in the crew of the Hazard, as well as comrades-in-arms; found his father, Garthane, who initiated him into the mysteries of life; been consoled and supported by the love and therapeutic expertise of those exquisite and self-refined entities, the androids Altektu and D-anacom; and had fallen in love, a state of existence that, requited or not, would also leave its mark on him forever.
Dann was brave and sweet, open to life. . . and not at all unattractive to Nila. She was drawn to him. But she was also drawn to Red Rian.
She stared into the mirror again and replaced Dann's features with those of the star-pirate. Where the young Aquaean's dark eyes and intense expression suggested great depths, places to be explored and experienced over a long period of time, the red-bearded buccaneer's glinting blue eyes and come-and-get-it smile beckoned her to a stormy and passionate voyage over the wilder seas of existence, promising stop-overs at the more colorful and exciting ports-of-call along the way.
Rian had dared to live intensely all his life; and he knew that his greatest enemy was not Blorg or Ylang, but himself. To him, life was a voyage of the soul, filled with challenge and adventure; and he would hold to his course where most men would tack to safety, determined to finish the journey in high style. Were Dann
offered the prospect of stability, Rian held out the lure of adventure. Both men were as different as night and day; and both appealed to different sides of her nature.
She owed it to them to come to a decision. And soon
...
When Nila looked in the mirror once more, she was alone, although she could still feel the presence of both men at her side, balancing each other like equal weights in the scale of her affections. She was grateful that the League's galactic business took precedence over the affairs of individuals at this time, and escaped into thoughts of the coming struggle.
The lady from the golden planet had done her work well: her liaison efforts had" resulted in a total and well-organized network of cooperative exchange between the member-worlds of the League. Every tech-drome and starshipyard on every civilized planet was operating at full capacity; the prosperous galaxy was gearing all its manifold resources to meet the challenge of the Dark Empire. The stakes were high: nothing less than life and liberty; but the men and women of Primula gave their all and worked unremittingly for the common good.
Nothing like a good war to create a spirit of brotherhood, Nila thought, recalling the history she had studied at school. She noticed that her reflection wore a wry, sad smile. Why does it always take a major catastrophe to get people to share things with each other?
There must be easier ways to achieve the same result.I know there are. . .
Then she thought of the horrible thing that called itself emperor of the Dark Empire, and shuddered.
Ylang's resources are enormous, she granted. But they're also deployed over numerous galaxies. We'll have a little time before the empire is ready to attack Primula again. And by that time, the occupied worlds will be long-liberated; we'll have build and equipped our fleets and made our plans. And Garthane will have made his. . .
It seemed to Garthane that Primula's stars glittered more brightly than they had for a long time. Even the force of the Infinite seemed to hum in a more sublime pitch, after lending its beneficent energies to those who respected it and drew their strength from the heart of its deep mysteries. The Fellowship renewed its ancient pledge to the peoples of the galaxy and, depleted as its membership was, had managed to unite its energies with the rhythms of the Infinite Oneness and subject the dark armada to an upheaval that wrenched apart the very molecules of its' starships, tearing the black leviathan vessels to pieces in the living heart of the void.
And now the next step in Garthane's plan was being undertaken, as he and all the other members of the order set out on a journey among the worlds of Primula in search of those worthy to join the Fellowship.
Ylang's power was almost beyond belief: Garthane knew that at first hand. But it was his gamble that, if enough men and women could be found, he would be able-always providing there were enough time and
energy available-to augment the strength of the Fellowship, thereby dramatically increasing its collective powers of mind, the crucial factor in the struggle against the immortal Ylang and his legions.
Garthane's craggy features were composed in his characteristic expression of serenity, giving no indica-tion of the feelings of urgency and anxiety that churned at some deep level of his being. But a person has many parts, and mind and spirit have many levels; Garthane was in tune with the source of life, and it fed his best energies and gave him the strength and determination to carryon the struggle. . . even though he knew that the odds against his side were incredibly high.
He knew what Ylang and his empire really represented: the dark side of the Infinite, the other side of our natures and minds-the dark, primitive forces that serve the powers of destruction and yearn always for a return to the dark vortex of chaos. And he also knew that we must listen to the" dark and instinctual powers that reside in ourselves as well as in the universe. The dark voices must be listened to and their message understood, for as light illuminates the darkness, so darkness defines the light. To be dealt with, Garthane thought, Ylang's evil must be understood for what it is: the other side of our natures, the other side of the Infinite.
He turned to stare at the man beside him, Brother Camenarpo, his second-in-command. Camenarpo's eyes were rolled up in their sockets and his hawk-features reflected the intensity of his trance-state.
Garthane would miss his old companion when they parted company again; the High Master planned to rejoin his son on Aqauaea when the planet was liberated. .
Despite the visions of war and horror that loomed on the horizon of his consciousness, Garthane felt warmed by his hopes and implicit trust in the powers of life. But he had his doubts; for ifhe was part eternal, he was only human as well. . .
Ylang- Ylang was not human at all, and was in a black mood as the slave-crews cleared the last of the rubble out of its lair. Earlier, on hearing of the armada's destruction, the star-tyrant went into a hideous rage, its corrupt and agitated energies filling the great hall. And whenlhe quaking Ysss (even they feared the Dark Emperor's anger) brought word that Blorg the Devastator had been annihilated by Red Rian, Ylang's rage knew no bounds. Its huge mass of pulsating energy roared and exploded, erupting into firestorms behind the fleeing Ysss, as the manifested wrath of this immortal being assumed the aspect of a natural disaster.
Panic cloaked the Forbidden City of Kordor, and every living soul in the capital lay prostrate and cowering, praying for mercy.
As was usual in the aftermath of its rage, Ylang's energies were banked low; its mass was dark as a storm cloud, emitting only occasional muted rumblings and dim, fitful flashes. Nevertheless, its servants had all
been so terrified by the hideous spectacle of frustration that the Ysss overlords were forced to use mind-raped slaves, those will-less zombies who had been mentally violated for the emperor's pleasure, to remove the last of the debris from the lair - the wreckage resulting from Ylang- Ylang's first encounter with the Fellowship of Light.
The work was directed personally by Aaasp, the overlord who had succeeded Lord Blorg as commander of all the empire's fighting forces. He did this at the vidscreens of the antechamber to the lair, issuing instructions to the shambling, burnt-out slaves by means of the telepathic powers he possessed in common with his brother-reptiloids.
In one short day, the five Y sss lords who had preceded him were all wiped out, and Aaasp suddenly found himself at the summit of ambition. But he did not allow himself the luxury of gloating over his good fortune, for the mighty Ylang could read the thoughts of all in Kordor. . . and the emperor was not in a benevolent mood. It was an awful responsibility, being directly accountable to the Great Devourer; but there was also the great reward: the unspeakable and unimaginable joy of communion with Ylang, that endless river of evil.
The other Y sss had all listened to Blorg' s mental cries of ecstasy as they waited in the antechamber, and they all lusted in their murderous hearts after the chance to share the unholy bliss of the Dark Emperor's embrace.
Ylang itself was submerged in the midnight sea of its thoughts, pondering the amazing series of events that had come to pass in such a short span of time. The defeat of the star-armada represented the first set-back to the emperor's plans of conquest. But that in itself was of no major consequence, for starfleets and the beings that manned them were as toys to Ylang, expendable chess-pieces in the great galactic game.
Blorg's loss was another matter. The Devourer had labored long and hard to produce such a creature; the perfect engine of destruction. It had directed the evolu-tionofthe reptiloids ofSserp to that sole end. And Blorg was so utterly and remorselessly evil that Ylang had come to think of him as its spiritual son. But as it had cultivated Blorg, so it would cultivate Aaasp. The Ysss were a breed with great potential.
Certainly it had underestimated the wee mannikins who called themselves the Fellowship of Light. The three who had dared to stage a confrontation in the lair itself-Garthane, Dann Oryzon, and Camenarpo-had displayed rare courage and presence of mind. And the order's collective mental powers, while in no way the equal of its own, had impressed Ylang to regard the Fellowship as an opponent of some consequence. But as it had scanned the intruder's minds, taking their mental and genetic imprints unto itself at the same time, Ylang had discovered the actual strength of the order.
Two hundred minds, mentalities humanoid and non-humanoid. . . hardly enough to represent an insur-mountable obstacle,..
Ylang had also experienced a profound feeling: the
awakening of desire. Its interest in the great game had been rekindled. These Primulans, with their Fellowship of Light and their League of Free Worlds, had done it a great favor; they had provided relief from boredom, the curse of the immortal. The lair resounded to an explosion, Ylang's equivalent of a burst of laughter, as the Dark Emperor recalled Red Rian's visit to Flaigon.
What splendid audacity! it thought, filling the stone hall with the bass rumblings of its amusement. To rescue the humanoid female, Nila. this astral buccaneer summoned up the nerve to bargain with me -and that performance was a masterpiece of insincerity-and then offer to fight to the death with my son, Blorg the Devastator. I am developing a higher regard for these little creatures. What a treat it will be to taste of their agonies and incorporate their energies into mine!
At last. . . opponents worthy of the game! Ylang's mass expanded, flooding the lair with stroboscopic bursts of light. For the first time in aeons, the game interests me once more!
The Devourer's thoughts turned to gluttony. My lord Aaasp, come unto me. I would have you select some slaves -afull thousand. This is a day to be remembered, and I would feast!
As the cyclopean doors swung open, groaning like a chorus of a hundred brass throats in torment, Aaasp staggered into the lair, shielding his eyes from the crim-inal brilliance of his master. And when he prostrated himself on the black floor before the Lord of Life and Death, he shuddered violently, causing his body-armor to rat-a-tat-tat on the stone in the manner of a drummer's taradiddle.
Ylang felt confusion and profound disappointment in the reptiloid's thoughts, but Aaasp's mind was in such a turmoil that the Dark Emperor had to request an explanation. And this alone was cause for high curiosity, for the Yssss are startled by few things. Sweet lord Aaasp, Ylang said, the rich, organtones of its mental voice booming mellifluously, you are upset. What is it, my lord? What tidings do you bring me?
As a state of extreme shock sometimes causes vocal creatures to lose the power of speech, so the mute and telepathic Ysss had lost control of the muscles of his mind. It was some time before he could clear his thought-patterns and convey his message to his lord and master. But when he finally spoke, Ylang was rewarded for its patience:
Great Ylang, I have just received a communication
. . . Lord Blorg lives!
Chapter 2
Reunion On Aquaea
"Citizens of Aquaea. Citizens of Aquaea. This is Dann Oryzon of Merport speaking. I am coming in with the forces of the League of Free Worlds, and I ask you all to rise up andjoin us in the name offreedom and the great
Mother Sea! Join with us now. We're coming in~the liberation of Aquaea has begun!"
Dann switched off the Hazard's transmitter and turned to Ween Leever. "How'd you ever manage to pipe us into the enemy's broadcast frequencies?"
The boy-genius lowered his head and shuffled his feet while he answered through a shy smile. He mumbled something about band alternators and parallel rectifiers. Dann understood very little of it.
A flat, mechanical voice sounded behind him as O-V-I, Ween's compulsive-talker of a robot, began to supply a clarification. "To simplify the preceding statement, Mr. Dann, one must appreciate the intrinsic nature of atmospheric communication. It is possible to override a broadcast frequency. . . "
"Save that for your next lecture, Ovie," Rian growled from the pilot's seat, causing Ween's techno-companion to wow into silence. The cat-man beside him growled softly as Rian spoke again, this time into the Hazard's intercom. "All hands stand by. There's a wave of enemy airships coming our way, on a three-two-fiver heading. Gunners, peel your eyes and feel your trigger-fingers itch. I expect you to be able to blast the balls off a gnat at five hundred klectometers. Activate shields. I'm takin' 'er through. First man to score's the first man to get drunk when we touch down on Aquaea."
In Dann' s honor, Rian took the Hazard in at the head of the first wave, and the young Aquaean had the unim-peded view that belongs to the leader of the pack.
Beyond the ominous silhouettes of the black, approaching fighters, Dann could make out the outline of his hometown, Merport. As he sighted through the computer screen of his laser-cannon, hope welled up inside him with the rolling swells of the ocean below. Was his family still alive? And his best friend, Zak Spar?
The angry whine of a laser-beam, followed by the splat of its deflection by the Hazard's shielding, interrupted his thoughts. "Show time!',' exclaimed Rian.
"Fire at will!"
The empire fighters were no match for the firepower and screens of the Hazard, and the bright ship cut through their formation the way a hot knife cuts through a pat of butter. "Someone give me a count," Rian grunted, AS he came out of a tight turn with a loop that sent the ship back at the enemy craft. On the computer screen, the sight of the distant fighters reminded Dann of a swarm of angry insects.
"Three down, one in trouble," was the answer to Rian's question.
The swarm of insects grew larger on the screen, prox-imity transforming them into a flock of steel ravens. "Is that all?" the skipper of the Hazard asked rhetorically.
"Uncross your eyes, you Taylian myopics!"
From his protside gun-turret, Dann watched the computer screen that showed the ship's bow-cannon at work. The fighters, already engaged by the main body of the League's ships, started to scramble as the Hazard came up behind them, strafing their tails with devastat-
ing accuracy. As the formation was again penetrated, Dann lined-up an empire fighter in his cross-hairs. He depressed the firing-button gently, and-whaang!
whaang!-the cannon whined, and red laser-bolts lanced out to explode the enemy craft. That one's for old man Maraner! Dann thought, remembering his foster-father's death at the hands of the invaders.
"Score!" Rianbarked, as the Hazard came out of the formation.
"Seven-and-a-half," came the reply over the intercom.
"That's better, mates. . . Hey-wait a minute!
What the hell does that 'half' mean?"
"Aigron blew the tail offa one, but he thinks it got down okay."
"Oh." Rian nodded. Then he banked into another turn. "Okay, you spaceswabs: one more pass. If you don't double the score, I'm locking you all in the ship tonight, while I pay my respects to the ladies of Aquaea.
When we're past 'em again, I'm taking us into Merport."
Dann held his breath when he heard Rian's last words. He squinted into the eyepiece of his gunsight and wondered whether Lii-arc sea-racer was still alive.
Haaass! Haaass! The sound of Blorg's stertorous breathing drowned out the gentle hum of the levitator that took him down to the city beneath the surface of dead Flaigon. Dwarfing the humanoid equerries who escorted him to the Forbidden City, the reptiloid lord stared vacantly at the door-panel in front of him. Since, for some unknown reason, the Dark Emperor had not probed his consciousness once he touched-down on the black planet's surface, the lord of the Yss allowed himself the luxury of brooding over his recent misfortunes.
Not only had the mighty star-armada been demolished, thereby disrupting his plans for the conquest of the Primula galaxy, but that bearded man-ape, Rian, that hairy and disgusting piece of humanoid trash, had actually bested him in deep space combat. And the worst was yet to come: he must now anSVfer for his disgrace and defeat to Ylang- Ylang, the only thing he feared in this life. It was a dark day for Lord Blorg and, as he left the levitator and strode through the eerie and self-illuminated corridors of black rock that led to the lair, the weight of fear lay on his body with the pressure of several dense atmospheres.
Entering the antechamber, he received the four-armed salutes of the gathered Ysss overlords. Aaasp bowed low as he passed, and looked away. Blorg shielded his thoughts and, in passing, darted a contemp-tuous glance at Aaasp. He noted the absence of several familiar forms: Kaag and Kraaass, his brood-brother, Haaang, his palace-ally Luurq-all dead. His suc-cessothad much to gain from his disgrace. As the doors to the lair swung open, a rush of horror chilled the air
