Starhawk (27 page)

Hunter and Joxx quietly approached the scene. It was coming to an end, and Hunter didn't want anything unexpected to happen now.

"He's alive! I tell you, I can see him blink," one of the lieutenants was saying, bending down over the third body. "He can hear me, can't you, Jimmy boy?"

"Blink Jimmy!" another of the lieutenants was yelling. "Blink yer eyes if ye can hear us!"

Hunter and Joxx arrived just as the man lying in the mud began blinking his eyes madly. His mask gone, his face was painfully stretching into a smile, too. Despite his grave condition, he almost seemed
happy
.

Suddenly, in the background, came the twin growls of more Saracens and the flying, whirling thing.

"Let's get him out of here!" one of the lieutenants said. "Before those bloke bastards trip over themselves and crash down upon us as well!"

Without ever acknowledging Hunter and Joxx again, the men picked up the wounded but smiling man and squeezed him into the back of the van. Then they climbed in themselves and roared away through the deep forest, literally leaving Hunter and Joxx in the dust.

Joxx looked over at Hunter, dumbfounded.

Hunter just shook his head.

"It gets weirder," he said.

Flash!

Everything was green again.

The walls, the bed, the bed covers, the rug, the floor beneath the rug. And everywhere the same shadowy if beatific image of a figure with long hair and wings sprouting from the back, arms spread wide as a gesture of friendship and warmth. Pictures on the wall. Carvings on the wooden door frame. Even the designs printed onto the sheets, this same picture of the faceless, mysterious angel.

The sun was streaming through the emerald curtains blowing lazily in the morning breeze. The light itself seemed to have a greenish tint to it. Hunter was sitting in the ornate chair in the corner of the room, his fists balled, his face anxious. He was waiting for the next step to begin. It was always slow at this point, and it was always hot in the small room. Hunter knew it hadn't rained on this part of the Earth in many, many years.

Joxx was hanging out the window, half covered by the green curtains, looking down on the grand square below. There was a vast plaza ten stories down. Many people were moving through it, many wearing religious clothing.

"Cassocks and such?" Joxx was complaining. "Where are we now? In some bad dream conjured up by your little friend, the priest?"

Hunter didn't reply. This place had once been called Peter's Grand Square or something along those lines, and the city that surrounded it was once a small country in itself. But this formerly tiny kingdom now took up more than half of what was once called Europe.

"At least it is not as wet and cold as the first place you brought me." Joxx sighed, still hanging out the window, talking more to himself than Hunter. It was a habit of his. "It's pleasantly temperate here...."

Hunter wished, as he always did at this point in the mind ring trip, that the bottle of wine sitting on the table next to his bed was filled with slow-ship instead of the vile red stuff that passed as vino in this place, in this time.

"I do say that it makes me uncomfortable to see so many people in habits and collars, though," Joxx went on. "And this damn angel everywhere you turn. Religion is something that's always made me very nervous—more so here, whereever the hell we are."

Again, Hunter remained silent. Joxx's senses were about to get a jolt—and much more than the discovery that they were now about a thousand years ahead of their last scenario.

"Yes, too many cassocks," Joxx said, still gawking out the window. "Too much religion will drive you crazy, guaranteed."

Finally, he pulled himself back in, only to discover that Hunter was now wearing a floor-length black cassock. Even worse, he was wearing one, too.

Joxx began to protest of course, but before the words could get out of his mouth, there came a soft knocking at the door, just as Hunter knew it would.

"Your transport is waiting," came the lilting voice from the other side. Hunter jumped to his feet and opened the door; it was the one sequence of the trip that he actually enjoyed, though for a very strange reason.

On the other side of the door was a young, very pretty girl. She was not a nun but a novice, the last step before the final plunge. She was in training for the Order of the Precious Holy Blood. Her habit was not as dour as some of the other religious women Hunter had encountered here. Her smile reminded him of Xara.

"I can escort you down to the departure zone," she told Hunter sweetly. He quickly agreed.

With Joxx tagging along reluctantly, Hunter and the young novice walked down the dark hallway, a dead ringer for some of the buildings found atop Special Number One. They spoke, as they always did, about the weather, her advancement into the order, the pleasant ride that was guaranteed between here and New York.

"They say the ocean looks especially green today," she told him, again as always. But this time, she had a bit of a devilish smile.

They reached the bottom floor and walked out onto the emerald marble plaza. An ancient shuttlecraft was waiting for them.

Joxx nearly burst out laughing when he saw this vehicle. Its design most closely resembled the troop shuttles used by the Empire in real time, but only as a distant and forgotten relative. The machine was long, tubular, "buglike" in the ancient slang of Earth. It had gaggles of attachments hanging off of it. Pipes and vanes and unrecessed steering rockets. The power plant in the rear stank of ion-ballast exhaust, and indeed, Hunter had learned, this thing used a dumbed-down version of ion-ballast propulsion, a sort of mini-star engine for quick but uneconomical jumps around the planet.

It just looked unsafe, and that was Joxx's initial complaint through the snickering. But Hunter wouldn't have factored in an unsuccessful flight. Or would he?

Joxx finally climbed aboard, swishing his long cassock around like a grand dame. Hunter chatted a little more with the young novice, and she smiled through her veil. Then she shook his hand. When the jump car took off, the bit of wind generated lifted her thin shroud a little, and he was able to see her eyes and face.

She smiled and then waved good-bye.

The shuttle ascended from the plaza, and soon they were looking down on the dome of the huge basilica.

It was a light shade of green, of course, shimmering in the morning sun. It held magnificent spires, their turrets topped in emerald leaf. They, too, gave off a strong glare. The shuttle rose quickly to 10,000 feet, and from this height it became apparent that this basilica was not the only one in the vicinity of the great square.

In fact, it was just one of hundreds of basilicas that stretched along the winding, tree-lined highways leading to the coastline. Dozens more could be seen along the seaside cliffs beyond. The shuttle turned north, and even more of the magnificent cathedrals were evident atop the high, snowcapped peaks to the north and east, many displaying huge statues of the ubiquitous angel. Another turn, now to the west, and even more of the grand churches could be seen lining a winding highway, one that eventually passed right through the city once called Paris.

"The enormity of this religious state and its great wealth is eye-opening," Joxx said, nose pressed up against the shuttle's window. "By these ancient standards, it is nearly on a par with the Fourth Empire itself."

Hunter sighed wearily.

"A very astute observation," he said.

New York was green, too.

The buildings. The water flowing around the port. The miles of towers and transport tubes and people movers, even the air itself, clogged as it was with flying cars. From horizon to horizon to horizon, everything was just a little bit green. And everywhere, flags were flying. They were green as well, all with the image of the faceless angel in the center.

The view of the vast city-state of basilicas stretching all the way to the sea had been awe inspiring. But it was obvious right away that
this
place was the capital of Earth.

The shuttle landed in an arrival zone carved out of the forest of trees in old Central Park.

The vessel was burping and sizzling as Hunter and Joxx stepped off. It seemed out of breath from its seventeen-minute jump over "the Pond." Hunter saluted the green-uniformed pilots; it had become a habit with him now. They looked out of breath, too.

Hunter and Joxx were met by a motorcade of ultra-stretched air cars containing a company of enormous, security men. They were heavily armed with huge space rifles and bandoliers of lightning packs. Their armbands displayed the image of the same angel; their air vehicles did, too.

They ushered Hunter and Joxx into one of the ultra-stretched air cars. It took off quickly, slotting into place in the middle of a formation that the aerial security escorts had formed around them. They were put into seats at the rear of this vehicle. A stewardess appeared. She, too, was a cute novice. She was a little bolder than Hunter's friend back at Peter's Grand Square; she actually let her hand brush against him several times as she was passing him and Joxx hot towels and glasses of that awful red wine.

As always, after Hunter's first token sip of the bitter wine, a priest appeared in their compartment. He was wearing a cassock and collar just as they were, but was obviously of higher authority, as indicated by the number of tiny green crosses he wore across his left breast pocket, like a military officer wearing medals. He was here to brief them.

This was one of Hunter's least favorite parts of the mind trip, only because the high priest talked so slowly and therefore could drag out the scene forever. Joxx, however, was fascinated when this man told them the Emperor of the Galaxy was awaiting their arrival with great anticipation.

Joxx looked across at Hunter and mouthed the words: "We're here to see the Emperor?"

Hunter simply yawned in reply.

"But why?" Joxx asked aloud.

Hunter just pointed back to the high priest, as if to say,
He's about to tell you
.

'The Emperor hasn't had a really thorough confession in quite some time," the priest continued in a very hushed voice, enunciating every syllable to its long, painful conclusion. "This is troubling for some of us. Personally, I think he has entered a period of reflection. But that's just my opinion. In any case, that's why he asked for the best confessors that Peter's could offer. And that's why you two are here."

This time Joxx did laugh. Out loud.
Us? Hear the Emperor's confession
?

The priest nodded, again very slowly.

He got up to leave. Joxx tried to grab him by his long sleeve, but his fingers went right through the material. Next, Joxx began to demand more information from the man, but this was not a part of the mind ring program.

So the high priest simply ignored him, bowed deeply, and disappeared back into the cockpit.

The stretched air car set down with a bump a few moments later.

Hunter and Joxx stepped out to find themselves atop the highest building in the city; indeed, this was the highest building on the planet. It was 250 stories high, not counting the gigantic statue of the same faceless angel, arms outstretched, wings raised as if in flight, which adorned its peak. A force-field bubble protected the entire top of this monstrous structure, so wind and temperature were not a factor up here. They were so high up though, it wasn't too much of a leap to see how the notion to build floating cities came into being.

There were more security troops here, green uniforms, angel-image shoulder patches in place. Two of them led Hunter and Joxx down a long tunnel that was crammed with dozens of flashing strobe-light security devices. By the end of this gauntlet, the security people were convinced that Hunter and Joxx were who they claimed to be.

From here they were led to an enclosed chapel ten stories down from the roof. This place was staffed with a small army of novices—a different order here, so no veils—and each one looked more comely than the next. They were dressed in brief black habits with tiny green crosses emblazoned near the bodice. They presented Hunter and Joxx with the ritual snack of crackers and yet more bitter wine.

Joxx was so enthralled by these servants he failed to see the huge portrait hanging above their seating area. Hunter now turned him around and directed him to look up at the almost 3-D painting. For once it was not a picture of the ubiquitous angel.

"Just so you'll know," Hunter said. "That's who we are here to see."

Joxx took a close look at the painting and nearly fell over.

The man in the picture was the same man they'd seen partially revived in the hollow. The man who could only blink and smile. The guy they'd called Jimmy.

"
He's the first Emperor
?" Joxx gasped.

"I told you it got weirder," Hunter replied.

Flash!

The two mind travelers now found themselves in an enormous chamber where seven men sat around a very ornate, rectangular table.

This room was very dark; only a few candles provided the light. Hunter had learned that this chamber was a few stories below the chapel.

The men around the table were all wearing long, red garments with white collars that seemed too stiff to ever be comfortable. Several were wearing strangely pointed hats. The men were elderly, unfriendly. Some of them had faces as red as their garments. There were no introductions. It was just assumed that Hunter and Joxx knew who these people were.

They were not invited to sit down. Instead, they stood at one end of the table, looking down at the men seated at the other.

"You realize that you've been called here on a very delicate matter," the man sitting at the head of the table asked them. He was obviously in charge.

Hunter and Joxx nodded on cue.

"The Emperor asked for you himself," the man went on, clearly not happy about the situation. "Experts in taking confession—frankly, I'd never heard of such a thing."