Robert E Mills, page 7
"They're launching your probes this afternoon," the young Aqauean replied, "all five thousand of 'em. And they're gonna have a little celebration afterwards, at League H.Q."
"Will my uncle be there?"
"Sure he will. The party's in his honor as well as yours."
"Then I'm not going."
Dann smiled mischievously. "Come on, Ween. . .
Nerdeen."
"Don't call me that!"
"I won't. . . if you come to the party."
"All right-you blackmailer," Ween snapped. "But you've got to do something for me."
"Sure," his friend replied. "What?"
"Warn me whenever uncle Vax gets close .. and cover my escape."
Garthane was pleased. The first wave of probes had been launched, and all lifted-off without a single mis-fire. And now they were on their way to the occupied worlds of several galaxies, where they would penetrate their respective atmospheres and broadcast the League's message of resistance and freedom.
He felt the working of the dark heart of the Infinite, its cosmic vibrations stirring something deep within him as the nature of created things flowed in search of equilib-rium. The perfect launching had been a sign, he felt, an omen of things to come. And soon the liberation of Taylos would begin. . .
Snakes in broods, fires and floods, carnage and destruction, Ylang sang, its thoughts filling the lair with the demented music of its tenebrous merriment. Dark things lurk, and evil works its dark-designed obstruc-tion.
The emperor had not been so excited for millennia.
The dark vaults that hQused the workshops and laboratories of its demonic ancestors were now restored and put to their original use, the service of evil.
And Ylang's darling, Blorg, was returning home after the mating-rites and the serpentine dance of awakened sexuality on the scorching surface of his homeworld.
And soon the creatures designed to operate the giant and intricate machines would awaken.
Enter the vault, sweet Blorg, Ylang urged as soon as its pet had returned, the fires of its expectation casting a flickering orange glow over the throne room's stone floors. And look upon the beauty of the Mordlings.
As my lort.( commands, so does his servant obey.
Blorg nodded to the anxious group of his brother- Y sss who stood gathered before the cyclopean doors at the
entrance to the Mordling laboratories. The reptiloids leaned on the doors and pushed with all their strength, causing them to groan like voices in a musician's nightmare, turning inward as they did.
Enter and look upon the noblest works of all creation, my hissing little beauties. Go within, and see Ylang's people reincarnate by virtue of its black arts!
Their body-armor clanking as they massed together, the Ysss ftIed into the laboratories. Haaa-aa-aaass!
Haa-aass! Haaass! The vaults rang with the sounds of their astonished gasps, as the reptiloids beheld the huge forms that floated in the nutrient-solutions of the large and growth-lighted transparent tanks.
So this is a Moordling, Blorg thought, so alarmed by the sight that he momentarily ignored the hovering, oppressive presence of the Devourer's consciousness.
How terrible they are. . . even in repose.
And the Mordlings were monstrous, even to a monster such as Blorg. Gigantic beings thirty to forty feet tall, their scaly hides shone with all the colors of a rainbow of corruption. The green of decay, the red of outrage, the brown of rot, the yellow of ancient desolation and the oily black of absolute evil glittered in alternations as the light played over the gross forms that rocked gently in the tanks.
Their limbs looked as thick and powerful as the trunk of the tree of original evil; their hands were great claws, designed to tear and throttle; their faces were as hard and cold as the surface of their homeworld, Flaigon; and their gaping, stiletto-toothed mouths yawned like the entrance to hell.
Ylang felt the fear and revulsion of the Y sss and savored it, drinking deeply of the energies liberated by their first sight of the Mordlings. But the Devourer was not offended; after all, the Ysss are connoisseurs of death, not beauty. And in the solar furnace of its heart, Ylang knew that the Mordlings were the most deadly creatures ever spawned in the long history of the universe.
Watch now, Ylang-Ylang commanded, bringing Blorg out of the shock-induced trance he had entered along with his fellows. I shall show you a wonder. The reptiloid lord felt the star-tyrant's thoughts withdraw and flow elsewhere. He gazed expectantly at the nearest tank.
Suddenly the mighty form within stirred, thrashing its huge limbs and sending a wave of fluid over the side of the tank. And then, clutching at the sides of the container, the thing hauled itself erect and glared balefully down at the Ysss, twin beams of light flllring from eyes that were as black as the dead heart of Flaigon. And when it opened its horrendous mouth and roared in a voice colored with overtones of rage and madness, the Y sss, led by Blorg the Devastator, fled from the vault as fast as their powerful legs would carry them.
Ah-hah-hah-hah-hahahahaha-a-a-aaa! Ylang' s laughter shook the black planet to its core. The fleeing Y sss were thrown to the ground as boulders crashed and ricocheted along the corridors of Kordoe; terror
filled the Forbidden City.
Rest yourselves, my sweetlings, Ylang boomed, after its mirth had subsided. Retire to your thermo-couches and dream dark dreams. . . And tomorrow, you shall witness the marvelous science of the Mordlings at work.
In this fashion, Ylang- Ylang set to work. And time passed, hours stretching into days, days stretching into weeks, and weeks stretching into months.
Others were busy as well: the Fellowship of Light was training its members-to-be, and the League of Free Worlds was preparing for war, readying its forces as it approached the next undertaking in the great galactic game. . . the liberation of the Taylos galaxy.
Chapter 5
Lord Blorg's Raid
The peoples of Taylos had no love for their black-uniformed conquerors, and the message of the League's probes was not lost on them. Once the starfleets of the liberators entered their galaxy, the Taylians rose up in great numbers on many worlds and did everything they could to make things uncomfortable for the Dark Empire's forces on the ground.
Enemy starfleets were on hand to resist those of the League, but this time they were not favored with anything that even remotely resembled the overwhelming numerical superiority of the late armada; the star-pilots trained by Rian and his crew were now combat-veterans, and they won victory after victory as they penetrated deeper into Taylos.
Of all the encounters in that galactic struggle, the greatest was the Battle of Yahwoo, so named because Purpur's homeworld planet was the nearest to the combat-zone. Sliith, High Admiral of the occupying spacenavy, stung by the successive defeats of his individual startleets, had given the order to consolidate all available forces in Y ahwoo' s sector of the galaxy, thereby intending to crush the enemy once and for all.
Sliith entered the battle confident in the strength of his forces, which outnumbered the Primulan vessels by a ratio offive-to-one. But he had not reckoned with the Fellowship of Light. Using their powers of mind once again, one hundred members of the order (half its present strength), boarded various ships of the League's starfleets and went among the enemy. And once again, they entered the trance-state of spiritual communion known as a mind-lock and drew on the energies of the dark heart of the universe, causing the black starships that opposed them to be shaken and torn apart by the terrible energies thus unleashed. As the mighty dark armada had been destroyed, so was Admiral Sliith's lesser force; and few survivors returned to Flaigon to tell the tale.
The Battle of Yahwoo broke the back of enemy opposition in Taylos; shortly thereafter, Sliith' s successor
gave the order to evacuate all Dark Empire forces from the galaxy. But even the evacuation proved to be a disaster, for the Taylians, without waiting for the liberators to land on the surface of their planets, rose up and stormed the bases {)f the occupiers, seizing great numbers of starships and weapons, and slaughtering as many of the enemy as they possibly could. Then, as the League forces arrived, the huge black vessels were repainted in the colors of the liberated worlds and enrolled as the first units of the reborn Taylian spacenavies.
Less than fifteen months (by the intergalactic standard) had gone by since the defeat of the star-armada; the Primulans and their allies were intoxicated by the heady wine of victory. Unwilling to lose the momentum of their success, they began to plot the liberation of Havanal, the galaxy nearest to Taylos. Again probes were sent out, to Havanal and galaxies beyond, and the tech-dromes and shipyards of the allies hummed with activity and rang to the sweet music of resistance and liberation. At a great banquet on Yahwoo, Garthane addressed the allied commanders and voiced the first sobering thought of the day: before long, Ylang- Ylang would surely make its next move.
Yowls and meows, scrowls and r-r-rows: Rian thought it was the most unique victory celebration he had ever seen. As the League's forces marched on the springy surface of the central boulevard of Meee, capital city of Yahwoo, the cat-flock lined the streets and cheered like a veterinarian's dream of glory.
I'd hate to be a dog today, the star-pirate thought, waving and beaming down at the felinoid multitudes from the height of Purpur's shoulders. Rian was getting used to this business of being a galactic hero, and he had to admit he liked it. Folks were most respectful in the presence of a hero. Why, they'd swallow even the most outrageous of yams and then come up gasping with excitement, begging for more of the same. Banquets were another benefit: when you weren't fighting, you were usually stuffing your craw with the finest delicacies the host-world had to offer. And the hot, inviting looks the women shot at him. . . it was almost enough to make him regret his decision to be faithful to Nila.
Only one thing made the skipper of the Hazard's day less than perfect, and that was the presence of his fellow-hero, that red-nosed gasbag, that Father of Lies, that dirty old man- Vax Waxnax.
"Yas. Yas." the old rum-pot wheezed, fluttering his fingers at the crowd and staring around his overripe fruit of a nose. "Scratch for joy, my little kittikins,"
Vax intoned through the side of his mouth, "for we bring you the nibbles of liberation."
Bouncing their riders as they hit a rough spot in the fibroid pavement, the felinoids galloped to steady themselves. Oh, you poor tabby! Rian thought, as he glanced over to the catman who bore Vax and his dis-tended belly. One more stretch of road like this one, and that bag of guts 'II beat you to death! He leaned over and
spoke into Purpur's ear. "See that? If you get out of line while we're here, I'm going to see to it personally that you get to carry old balloon-belly back to the Hazard."
By way of reply, Purpur shuddered and yowled.
What bothered the skipper of the Hazard was the fact that Ween's conniving uncle was beside him in the limelight. Comparisons may be odious, but Rian, although he never admitted it to himself or anyone else, had a deep-seated fear that he would wind up resembling the old buffoon in his own later years. The feeling wasn't quite rational; but in some way, the old Greeban held up a mirr-or to the more exaggerated side of the pirate's nature. Even heroes sometimes see themselves as clowns.
R-r-r-ro-ooow! They encountered another bumpy section of the boulevard and the cat-man, bludgeoned repeatedly by the merciless bulk of Vax's belly, yowled his discomfort. "Easy, m'boy! Easy!" Vax exclaimed between boozy belches, the jogging ofthefelinoid turning his stomach into a cocktail shaker. "Is this any way to treat a hero?"
Giddy-up, tabby! Rian thought, shaking with laughter as he turned away from the sight of Ween's uncle's discomfort and whispered into his first-mate's furry, pointed ear. "I'll give you five-to-one they hospitalize that pussycat by the time the parade's over." He pointed to the cat-man who carried Vax. The poor felinoid's head was bent down almost to his ~hest, the sinews of his neck stretched to their limits by the ag-gressiveness of the enormous belly they buttressed.
"I'll bet," Red Rian whispered again, "that your pal over there goes on sick-call when it's time to see us off."
Lord Blorg quietly made his way along the aisle of the workshop, casting nervous glances left and rigbt at the monstrous things that operated the towering machines.
the Mordling clones were so horrible that even the Yass felt uncomfortable in their presence; they were so fearsome that Blorg was continually thankful the Dark Emperor had created them devoid of the evil ingenuity and motivation characteristic of their prototypes. Ylang had cloned them solely to operate the great machines, and that was all they did, eating and sleeping only when sheer hunger and fatigue overtook them. Still, Blorg shuddered when he considered the awful games those beauties might have been capable of dreaming up, had they the mentality and the imagination.
With a sigh of relief, the lord of the Y sss left the workshop and turned down the long corridor that led to the lair. A chill wind blew through the chambers of his mind as the tyrant's thoughts made themselves felt.
My son is disturbed, Ylang noted cheerfully. .What bothers him?
My lord, the Taylos galaxy has just been liberated by those upstarts from Primula. And my agents there inform me that the League of Free Worlds plans to move against us in Havanal.
What of it? the Great Devourer asked, upsetting Blorg with its gleeful insouciance.
Great Ylang, if their progress is not checked swiftly, word of their victories will reach the subject galaxies.
Then rebellion will spread through the stars like atomic-fire.
My son must not worry, the emperor purred. We shall stop them before they ever enter Havanal.
And how will my master accomplish this?
Enter the lair, sweet Blorg, and you shall see.
Blorg shielded his eyes as he entered, and looked away from the debased radiance of his master. In the center of the vast stone chamber, he saw three of his brother-reptiloids seated at the controls of a strange console. The thing was scaled-down to their size, but obviously the product of Mordling skills. On a line with this device, but thirty yards to its left, there stood a massive laser-cannon, one that belonged aboard an imperial cruiser. It was manned by two more reptiloids, and was trained on a cowering pack of insectoid slaves who huddled in the exact center of the lair. Another group of insectoids huddled in a circle near the wall behind the laser-cannon, guarded by a platoon of humanoid soldiers. And by the adjoining wall, a group of Ysss stood watching the entire scene.
Ylang wilLnow be pleased to demonstrate thefruit of Mordling technical expertise, the Devourer announced. The cannoneers have their weapon trained on the group of worthless insectoids you see before you.
Behold what happens when the laser fires.
Vvvv-w-whaaa! Urged on by Ylang's will, the cannoneers fired. A blinding red flash illuminated the lair as the laserbeam hit its target. When the smoke had cleared, nothing remained of the insectoids but a few charred flakes that drifted lazily to the floor. They had all been vaporized.
Bzzzzz-z-z-zzz! Dit-a-dit! Dit-a-dit! The insectoids in the remaining group buzzed and chittered with fear when they saw what had happened to their counterparts. The guards activated their stingers, lashing the prisoners into silence with the small hand-rays.
Bring forth the second group! ordered Ylang. On this command, the guards herded the slaves over to the target area, backing away as soon as the insectoids were assembled.
Ylang thundered and lightninged in anticipation of what was to come. Now, my lords, we shall see this little demonstration repeated. . . but with one difference.
Activate the console.
The Ysss in the center nodded to his fellows, and they set to work, coordinating their efforts telepathically.
Lights flickered on and off in complex sequences as the console hummed softly into activation.'
Now fix your sights on those wretches before you, Ylang ordered.
Blorg noticed that a small turret mounted on top of the console began to swing around, training what appeared to be a large, circular lens projecting out of its center on the cowering insectoids. He wondered what connection this device would have with the execution
of the slaves.
Adjust range, and project when on target, was the Dark Emperor's next instruction.
The Ysss at the console nodded again. Ummm-vwoo-o-o-ooot! With a drone and a whine, a ghostly silver light came out of the lens. Its beam split about ten feet in front of the insectoids and immediately encircled them, joining again at the rear of the huddled group.
Activate laser-cannon! Ylang ordered.
Vvvv-w-w-whaaa! Again the powerful beam lanced out, filling the lair with its red light and scorching heat. But this time nothing happened. Blorg was as-tounded: the insectoids were still there-unvaporized!
The lair shook with Ylang's laughter, as the star-tyrant sampled the consternation of the Y sss. The reptiloid lords were all dumbfounded by what they had just seen.
Blorg was the first to comment upon the demonstration: Father Ylang, if such a device were installed within your starships. they would be rendered impervious to the firepower of the League's vessels.
Not only that, Ylang replied, but when enough of these machines are put on an interlock, thefield thereby generated would render the ships within it impervjous even to the powers of mind of the Fellowship of Light.
If my lord will grant me the privilege of having the first unit installed in my new starship, the Scourge, I would be honored to test it in actual combat.
It will take some time to outfit several starfleets with this new invention, Lord Blorg.
All I require is one, great Ylang. That will prove sufficient for my purpose.
And how does my son propose to test this thing?
By shooting down the Hazard, and sending Rian and all his Taylian scum to hell!
Would my lord risk an encounter with the League's star fleets at this time?
That will not be necessary, great Ylang. My Taylian agents keep me well-informed of Rian' s comings and goings. One day I shall swoop down on him when he least expects it, and settle his account for good.
