Star Blaze (34 page)

It was the first time he'd ever felt a jolt from within a gel pod. Johnny knew it had been madness for Clara to attempt to fold the entire ship across thousands of light years—only Plicans could do something like that. He hoped the
Spirit of London
hadn't been spliced in half, left a piece of herself behind or been accidentally crushed. He thought about leaving the capsule to check on things, but draining the gel pod would only delay them even more. If there was a problem, he'd find out soon enough. For the hundredth time, he revisited his decision to leave for Melania and plead for Captain Valdour's release—perhaps, with the upgraded weapons, it would have been better to stand and fight. Even if, by some miracle, the fleet was waiting and ready to go the instant they reached the capital, the round trip would take at least a week. It was cutting everything so fine.

From what Frago had said, it sounded as if the entire Andromedan fleet would be coming to the solar system. He knew that, because of the way folds distorted the surrounding space, it would take time for Nymac to gather that many ships together, but Johnny would never forgive himself—or his brother—if the Sun was turned into a supernova before he could return home to at least try to prevent it.

Johnny looked at his inflated arm. Even through the orange haze, there was no mistaking the color of the lights on the wristcom. He was fed up with the permanent circle of red and
decided, when he had a moment, to swap the device for another version without Nicky's enhancements.

If Bram were still elsewhere and out of contact, it hardly bore thinking about. Johnny would have to make a personal appeal in the ancient Senate building—the very idea made him feel queasy. If anything, he'd rather face a hundred Andromedan Stardestroyers. The only tiny consolation with the journey taking so long was that he had a couple of days to plan what to say. As he drifted into an uneasy sleep, he hoped the new Chancellor would be willing to go through things with him beforehand.

When Johnny awoke, he discovered the last globules of gel were being hoovered off him by the trunk at the top of the capsule. His body had returned to normal size and, as ever, he had to grab hold of the locket around his neck to stop it being sucked up the tube and lost. Something must have gone wrong, mid-journey—with speed of the essence, he'd instructed Sol not to drain the pod until they reached Melania.

“Sol—where are we? What's happening?” asked Johnny as he sat up and opened the gel pod door.

“We have arrived at Talamine Spaceport,” the ship replied. “All systems are in order, although I believe Clara may require assistance.”

“What?” shouted Johnny. He ran onto the bridge and saw his sister, sprawled on the floor beside the Plican's tank. “Clara,” said Johnny, kneeling down and cradling her head in his hands. “Talk to me.”

Slowly, Clara opened her eyes and Johnny almost dropped her head in shock. Instead of looking their usual blue with silver flecks, her entire eyeballs were shining silver. She smiled weakly and said, “Did I do it? Are we there?”

“You're amazing,” said Johnny, nodding. He felt his sister go limp in his arms. Alf arrived beside him “Get Clara to sickbay,” he went on. “I'm off to the Senate.”

“Master Johnny—I think you should wait until I am ready to accompany you.”

“There isn't time,” he replied. “Clara's much more important.” Alf disappeared down the lift shafts as Bentley emerged from his own gel pod, shaking the gloop from his fur. “Sorry, Bents,” said Johnny. “I think it's best you stay here. Guard the bridge—don't let any strange aliens you don't know on here. OK?” Johnny headed for the lifts and looked over his shoulder, to see Bentley jumping up into the captain's chair.

First stop, briefly, was his quarters. He gave himself two minutes to dress as smartly as possible. Now he stood in front of the long mirror wearing the white tunic top with the golden stars of Cassiopeia, and the black trousers with matching gold stripe. Instead of trainers, he'd changed into his black boots. Lastly, he tucked his locket underneath the tunic and stepped out into the corridor. Reaching the lift, he asked Sol if Bram was contactable. She promised she would be trying constantly, but for the time being there was no response. With no other options, Johnny stepped into the lift shaft and said, “Deck zero.”

At the foot of the ship, he touched the silver statue for luck, before exiting through the revolving doors. No one was there to meet him and, unusually, it was raining, both red suns hidden behind a thick mass of cloud. Despite the strong gravity pushing him down, he hurried up the steps away from the
Spirit of London
. His chest tight, he reached the top, breathing heavily, and turned to take a last look at the ship. Berthed very nearby was another spacecraft Johnny recognized—
Cheybora
. Straightaway he asked Sol to patch him through to the warship, who turned out to be raring to go into battle. She assured
Johnny her captain felt just the same, but sadly he had been asked (yet again) to address the Senate. At least knowing Valdour would be there gave Johnny a huge boost and he set out on the wide, transparent travelator at a sprint—every second could be vital. Soon he'd passed the statues of the old emperors and reached the giant curved wall and doorway barring his entrance. For just a moment, Johnny was unsure what to do—there was absolutely no sign of a bell—but then, agonizingly slowly, the two huge slabs of black stone swung outward, granting him access.

“You have a fast ship, Terran.” Standing alone in the Senate courtyard was Massenko Felix Dinaster, the same blue-faced cat-like alien he had spoken with through the Wormhole.

Johnny couldn't reply—his lungs were crying out for oxygen. With his hands on his legs, he was bent double, his face flushed.

“Fortune smiles on you,” the alien continued. “Captain Valdour and the other commanders are presently addressing the Senate, with the Regent itself in attendance. After you have petitioned the Senators, can you communicate the result to your ship?”

Johnny nodded, holding up the wristcom with its red dial that he'd forgotten to change.

“Follow me.” The creature turned and began walking, its tail curling upward, across the giant flagstones engraved with hieroglyphs toward the ancient, circular white stone building at the center of the courtyard.

“Wait!” said Johnny, still gasping for breath, but the alien was already too far away to hear. It was now or never. Johnny had no idea what he was going to say to the Senate, but took a last deep breath and followed.

As he hurried to catch up with the cat-like creature prancing ahead, Johnny heard snatches of the debate being conducted inside the Senate chamber—it didn't sound good. The atmospheric controls on Melania had been switched to a very
basic level to conserve energy that could be diverted into growing more spaceships. According to the different commanders giving their reports, the Imperial Navy had suffered a number of heavy defeats.

The blue-headed alien was waiting for him at the crumbling white stone entrance to the ancient chamber, but as soon as Johnny caught up the doors opened and his guide disappeared inside. He had no option but to follow, keen to keep up.

The chamber was only dimly lit and Johnny couldn't see what had become of the alien. It was packed with all manner of strange lifeforms, Senators representing civilizations from across the galaxy, some seated, others floating at different heights. Still more were swimming encased in transparent spheres, while several wore face masks—Johnny supposed they couldn't all be oxygen breathers. At the front, in a chair built for a giant, sat the Regent. It, and all the Senators surrounding it, were facing toward the black circular disk that had once disappeared underneath Johnny's feet. Standing spotlit, dressed in the full ceremonial uniform of the Imperial Navy, was Captain Valdour himself, speaking in midflow.

“I concur with Admiral Chad. The only explanation is espionage—we are being betrayed.”

Gazing toward his friend, Johnny felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. He was sure Valdour would be keen to join him, and the captain, covered in battle scars, looked so menacing that not even the Senators would dare refuse.

In the shadows behind Valdour, Johnny spotted the blue-headed alien whispering into the earhole of a tall Phasmeer, before Massenko Felix Dinaster stepped forward to stand beside the captain in the light, interrupting the speaker.

“Apologies to Captain Valdour and the Senate,” said the alien. “The Terran, Johnny Mackintosh, has entered the Chamber and demands the right to address this House.”

There was uproar. Johnny fumed at the cat-like creature—he'd not demanded anything of the sort and the Senators were clearly not amused. He had no choice other than to make his way toward the black stone stage, feeling his face becoming redder and redder as he went. As he climbed up, the Phasmeer stepped out of the shadows into the spotlight, quieting the hubbub. Johnny couldn't believe it—in front of him was none other than the traitor Gronack.

Before he could shout out, the Phasmeer began to speak. “Apologies to our unannounced guest,” it said. Close up, Johnny could see its thin mouth had curled into a smile. “Before the Terran, Johnny Mackintosh, addresses the House, it is my unpleasant duty as Chancellor to report that surveillance systems have detected unauthorized hyperspatial transmissions from within this very Chamber. Noble Senators—we have heard the Imperial officers speak of espionage. It appears that, today, there is a spy in our very midst.”

“You're the spy,” shouted Johnny. Seeing Gronack again made him so angry he couldn't contain himself. Standing on the black platform, it was as if he was speaking into a microphone—as his words echoed around the Chamber, he went on, “You've been working for the Andromedans … and the Krun all …”

“Silence!” boomed a powerful voice from nearby—it was the Regent. The huge Phasmeer rose from its chair. “How dare you enter the Senate Chamber, making such accusations?”

“Your Highness.” It was Captain Valdour who spoke. “I would remind the House that this is the Terran trusted by the Emperor himself.”

Johnny was conscious of how loud his breathing and heartbeat both were. He could not believe the gall of the alien who'd plotted to hand him over to Colonel Hartman's Corporation and, when that backfired, brought in the Krun to sell Johnny and his sister to the Andromedans.

It was Chancellor Gronack who responded. “Alas it is one of the burdens of high office, that some will always seek to undermine we servants of the people. It matters not. What is important is that, in the long history of the Senate,” it said, its robes turning red in mock anger, “we can count on one Deraxli finger the times when this noble House has been bugged. All know the new penalty for such bass treachery—death by firing squad.”

There was uproar all around the Chamber.

The Regent raised its arms for quiet. “As our new Chancellor has stated, the law is clear. If anyone in this House is in communication with outside agencies … with the enemy, they are in for a surprise. A simple test is now possible.” There was no need to ask for silence—the Senators were hanging on its every word. “Beneath the Senate House is a small community of Owlessan Monks.” Johnny could hear the sounds of surprise from the onlookers—even Captain Valdour looked shocked. “They have been summoned,” the Regent continued. “If messages are being sent through tunnels in space—the only means out of here—there will be residual echoes. They will know.”

Half a dozen scarlet robes, billowing in a nonexistent breeze, unfolded throughout the building. They separated and sped around the chamber, darting between the astonished Senators, in and out of the tanks. Some tried to beat them away, while others stood still as statues. It didn't make any difference—all were being tested. Johnny could just about make out the skeletal faces and limbs of the strange Monks, but had the distinct impression he was alone in this. He couldn't help watching, fascinated, as the creatures came closer, until they circled the black stone disk.

“Get off,” squeaked the Chancellor, as it attempted to keep one of the faceless Monks at bay with its spindly arms, while its robes turned pink. Another of the creatures flew to Captain
Valdour, who stood, impervious, as the blood-red cloak flapped in his face and moved on.

All six Monks now swooped across to where Johnny was standing. The long bony fingers reached out from beneath their cloaks and prodded and poked him. He felt a chill, which could have engulfed him had it not been for the warmth of the locket around his neck. One of the Monks attempted to take hold of the chain from which it hung, but Johnny pushed the skeletal hand away and it withdrew. Another of the Monks was examining the wristcom. As its finger touched the red dial of the device, it disappeared within it, followed by half the creature's forearm. Another reached out and did the same, and another. A fourth Owlessan Monk began to undo the Velcro strap of the device.