Star Blaze (15 page)

Something disturbed the floating Monks who briefly parted, allowing Johnny to see directly above. You could have fitted a hundred
Spirit of London
s nose to tail in the cavernous space. Though the insides of the Nicky's ship were mostly hollow, something sparkled at its very center, like a tiny pearl at the heart of an enormous oyster. Clear tendrils extended away from it in all different directions, tethering it to the black walls.

The next moment, all six Owlessan Monks fled in different directions. Johnny thought he might have heard screams of fear as it happened, but they were so high-pitched he couldn't tell if the sound had come through his ears or simply from inside his head. The reason could only be the two massive, camel-colored, hairy aliens he saw rushing toward him on a tripod base of three ultrathick legs. Johnny had never seen anything like them—above the waist they were roughly pyramids, a single strong arm centered on each side, and their large, rounded heads came with three pairs of eyes.

They ran very fast, their central leg alternating with the two outside of it, and were on him in a second. A black net shot from one of the creature's hands and wrapped itself around him, leaving just his legs, from the knee down, free. Up close on his
left and right, the hairy coats of his tall captors reminded Johnny of Chewbacca in
Star Wars
. But he was a long way from Hollywood and the eyes gazing at him were as black as anything else on the ship, with no detail—just empty pools giving nothing away. He shivered again.

One of the aliens grabbed his boots, the other his shoulders, as they lifted him off the ground. At frightening speed, he was carried parallel to the nearest electric river, the blue lights reflecting off the eyes of his captors. They stopped underneath one of the tubes snaking toward the distant structure that twinkled at the center of the ship. Johnny was being taken to Nicky's bridge.

Effortlessly, the hairy creature holding Johnny's shoulders stood him upright. Then both of the aliens sprang from their powerful three legs, lifting him high into the air with them. As they rose through the giant tube, they crossed a barrier. Even though he was bound by the net, Johnny felt temporary weightlessness take hold. Then he started to fall—but this time upward—as a new gravity field took over and Johnny headed toward the clear structure that was now below. Releasing their grip on him, the camel-colored creatures on either side performed a single graceful somersault, belying their bulk, so they were traveling feet first. Upside down and bound by the net, Johnny knew he had to act fast. Thankful for all his practice in low-gravity environments, he strained forward, shifting his slowly increasing weight, and somersaulted. He landed in a large chamber, knees bent and legs apart, on a hard, diamond surface.

Johnny leapt backward, as four long limbs from a tall creature with a fly-like snout reached out to grab him. He started to fall, but was caught from behind by a pair of powerful human arms. The man they belonged to laughed from his belly, and Johnny felt his own body shake. “Even though he is bound,
he still eludes you,” roared the man in an alien language Johnny recognized at once. His brother was speaking Krun. That was what the insect-like creature standing before him was, in its true form with no human disguise. It shrank back.

Johnny tried to look around. Here at the heart of Nicky's ship, the
Astricida
, was not one but five large Plicans. Their tentacles were folded inside their fibrous outer skins and squeezed into compartments at the end of clear tubes that joined together in a star shape, floating unaided above his head. The transparent floor on which he stood had five corners with five shallow walls sloping away from its sides. At almost every vertex, stood a motionless camel-colored soldier, the same as the ones that had brought him there. They weren't simply on his level—there must have been about twenty of the creatures in the chamber, some with their heads facing vertically down while others were at whichever angles the sloping walls dictated. It made it very hard to tell which way was up. The two who'd captured Johnny left his side and marched up the walls to the only remaining gaps.

“Leave my ship,” the man said to the facing Krun. “The time has come to fetch your pupil and begin his mission. I wish to be alone with the prisoner.”

“But, my Lord—he is too dangerous. You don't know what he is capable of.” Johnny recognized the creature's voice—this was Stevens.

“You dare question me? You forget yourself, slave. Perhaps I should show you what
I
am capable of?” The voice had no warmth, unlike when Johnny had first met his brother. Wrapped tightly in the net, a chill ran down his spine as he felt Nicky's hot breath on the back of his neck. A hand reached past Johnny's side and Stevens's hairy long legs buckled at the sight of the black ring on Nicky's finger. Prostrating himself on the floor, his insect head pressed against the diamond hard surface,
the Krun whimpered, “Never, my Lord.”

“Do I need to ask you again?” said Nicky, and Stevens waddled up the shallow walls and out the same way Johnny had come in. “Mamluks—you will leave us too.” The huge three-legged creatures at each of the corners snapped to attention, saluting Nicky, before they turned as one and marched in rhythm up and down the different sloping walls, disappearing into several of the clear tubes that led away from the central core.

The hands holding Johnny released him, pushing him forward. For a fraction of a second he thought he might be able to stay on his feet, but the force of the shove was too much. Johnny stumbled and hit the hard floor face first. There was a sickening crunch and it felt as if his nose had been forced into his own skull. Lights flashed in front of Johnny's eyes. He managed to lift his head slightly, his eyes following the slow spread of a rich red film across the floor. Dazed, he was dimly aware it was probably his own blood, but he couldn't watch it for long because a heavy boot rammed under his stomach, flipping him over onto his back.

“You're weaker than I expected,” said the figure, dressed all in black, shifting in and out of focus. Johnny fought against the watering of his eyes from the pain, and concentrated on his brother's face—the brilliant white light shone out of the mask where his brother's right eye should have been. When the beam fell on him, it burned like a laser. “You bleed easily.”

“What's wrong with you?” Johnny asked. “It's me.” The warm blood was pouring down his throat, which was becoming sore, and it was getting harder to breathe.

A puzzled expression spread across Nicky's face. He placed his hands in the air and, from nowhere, a holographic display appeared at his fingertips. From below Johnny could see the dials, but not the screen his brother appeared to be watching. “You are Johnny Mackintosh, aren't you …
the
Johnny
Mackintosh?”

“You know I am,” Johnny replied, spitting some blood so he could get the words out.

Nicky laughed. “Yes, of course you are,” he said. “I hadn't realized you were such a coward—who would surrender rather than fight. If it were up to my Krun servants they'd have killed you already.”

“Like they killed Dad?” said Johnny. “Did Bugface … Stevens … tell you
that
?”

“You rave like a cornered Saalis at the climax of the hunt,” sneered Nicky. “Of course you must die, but you should feel honored. I have been preparing your murderer specially—I think you'll like him.” Nicky laughed manically as if he'd just cracked the funniest joke ever.

“Why are you doing this?” Johnny asked, fighting for breath. “I don't understand.”

“Of course you don't, little Terran,” said Nicky, crouching on his haunches next to Johnny's head. “How could you? The plan comes from my master … the Nameless One … the most ancient of all things. So old that every galaxy in the universe is the outpouring of his breath. If he ever had a name it was forgotten before your insignificant little sun was even born—and, once I've gathered my fleet, it will die like Toliman.” Nicky grabbed hold of Johnny's face and forced him to look into the brilliant white light.

It was like stepping under a waterfall—the pressure pushed Johnny's head backward as he felt the stream of pure hatred, bashing the back of his skull on the hard floor. At the same time the blood around his face started to bubble and boil, as if heated by the beam.

“Your ship carries the Emperor's mark,” Nicky continued. “You joined the wrong side. Soon my master will leave his throne in Andromeda and Bram Khari will be dead. But I
promise the last thing your precious Emperor does will be to kneel before him, before the Nameless One, the whole galaxy witnessing who is the greatest. Of course, by then you will be long dead.”

Still bound, Johnny had never felt so desperate, but the mention of Bram strengthened him. He remembered the first words the Emperor had spoken when he and Clara knelt before him in the Imperial Palace on Melania, asking them to rise and stand in his presence. Johnny repeated them now. “The trappings of power are for the weak.” He lifted his head, and forced himself to stare into the white light again. “This Nameless One can't be very sure of himself if he needs people to kneel.”

Nicky's face twisted in an ugly grimace. He raised his hand to strike Johnny, but a female voice interrupted in a staccato language Johnny had never heard before. “Fold commencing in 30 seconds. Destination Terra, Sol 3.”

Nicky raised his head and answered in the same strange tongue, “What are you doing, ship? Cancel this fold at once. The captured vessel is to be boarded—the Krun will return shortly with a new captain.”

“Unable to comply, General,” the ship replied.

“I said cancel.” Nicky's fearsome face turned bright red with anger, as though about to burst.

“You informed me you may try to rescind this command, General,” replied the ship, whose words came sharply, like bullets firing from a gun. “When placing the order, you said it was a test of my resolve—that on no account was it to be changed.”

The five tanks above Johnny's head began to pulse with blue light, before they opened and the Plicans uncurled their tentacles, extending them toward the center of the star where they danced around each other in precisely choreographed steps, beginning a fold.

“What madness is this?” Nicky shouted. He wheeled round and looked at Johnny, lying bound and helpless on the floor. “It's you … you did this. I should have listened to the Krun—Stevens was right. I should have destroyed your ship and you with it … you have to die … now.”

Johnny couldn't believe his brother would do this. With his free feet, he pushed himself away just in time as Nicky lunged toward him. Sliding out of reach, he braced himself for impact against the sloping walls, but it didn't come. Beyond the diamond-shaped compartment, the outsides flew through each other and disappeared. Jupiter and Mars whizzed by. Within it, the walls either side of Johnny had remained firmly in place. He tilted his head back, allowing himself to see where he was going, even if it meant swallowing another mouthful of blood. He was sliding very fast along a diamond-clad tunnel that stretched far into the distance—all the way to Earth.

Nicky leapt on top of him, placed both hands around Johnny's throat and pressed hard on his Adam's apple. Everything began to go dark, but Johnny summoned the last of his strength and hooked his leg under his larger brother. Taken by surprise, Nicky was thrown forward further down the tunnel, toward Earth, which was growing bigger very quickly.

“Stop it, Nicky,” said Johnny, desperately trying to scramble away but knowing it was only delaying the inevitable.

Even as the fold continued, Johnny's brother was able to stand and dust himself down. “Do you not even know who I am—who it is who is going to kill you? I am Nymac, Captain of the
Astricida,
the Star Killer, and Commander-in-Chief of the Andromedan Fleet.”

“No you're not,” shouted Johnny. “Nymac … it's made up. It's Nicky Mackintosh, just shortened.”

“How dare you speak that name?” replied the figure in black, walking calmly toward Johnny while pulling a curved knife
from inside his body suit.

“It's true,” said Johnny, bracing himself for the blade. He stared into the figure's lone eye and said, “You're my brother.”

The white star shining through Nicky's mask flickered and went out. He thrust the knife forward, but instead of plunging it into Johnny's heart, cut through the net that bound him. Then Nicky collapsed beside his bloodied younger brother and began to shake.

In the background, the walls of the
Astricida
were flying back into their right positions. It was so hard for Johnny to breathe that he had to roll over onto his front and then crouch forward on his knees, allowing the blood to drip from his broken nose onto the floor. He pulled pieces of netting off him, rubbing his arms to get his circulation going, and noticed the lights around the face of his wristcom had all turned green. Johnny lifted his hand, daring himself to touch his nose, but when he placed the index finger on it everything went white and a pain like nothing he'd felt before shot through his skull. He was only dimly aware of his own agonized howl, worse than fingernails being scraped down a blackboard.

“Sorry 'bout that,” said Nicky, speaking English for the first time and rolling onto his side which let Johnny see the look of concern on his face. “I promise I'll make it up to you.” Johnny wasn't at all sure what had just happened, but Nicky looked different … human again. “I knew you could do it, Johnny,” his brother went on. “Draw me out of him properly. I've been planning it for days, getting stronger as I lurked in his subconscious, secretly programming the fold to Earth for when Nymac captured you. I think I can keep him buried for a few hours.”

“Orbital docking with Terran platform NY0 completed,” said the ship's voice, all around them. Johnny looked up. There had been an imperceptible thud, but that was the only indication of
a joining with another ship. The tunnel was gone, and the bridge was, once again, firmly enclosed. It had been the strangest, least stomach-churning fold he'd ever experienced.