Chapter Two

Return to Earth

“Here.” Tankar tossed a batch of papers in front of the Teknor. “It’ll be easy for your technicians to build as many tracers as they want with these plans.”

Tan stood and approached the earthling. “We treated you badly, and we’ve paid dearly for it. I should’ve…well, what’s the point of trying to rewrite the past? Could I have done things differently?” He paused. “The Tilsin tragedy was written when Kilos II forced the technicians into exile, sowing a seed of hatred that has grown ever since. You were its victim, and now we’ve suffered too.”

Tankar shrugged. “What does it matter? However it started, what happened, happened. Iolia died. It was my fault and yours. I don’t give a damn what happens to the People of the Stars. I give you these plans in memory of Iolia and out of respect and affection for the Pilgrims.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?”

“Yes. Take me back to Earth.”

The Teknor frowned. “That could be risky for the Tilsin.”

“Not now that you have the tracers. You can leave me in space within reach of the planet surface.”

“I’ve been hoping that you might come back to live among us, Tankar.” Tan’s voice was tinged with regret. “We need men of your stature to contain the Mpfifis. And Anaena….”

“I won’t be bought! Not with offers of a woman or laurels or power,” Tankar snarled.

“Anaena will mourn,” the Teknor replied calmly before adding, “Do you really think so little of me that I would barter for my niece?”

“Now you understand that we’ll never see eye-to-eye. It’s better that I return to my people.”

“All right. I’ll see you again before you go.”

A short time later, Tankar was on his way. Earth orbited under his craft, an Earth that he recognized through gaps in the cloud cover. Tankar had made radio contact a few minutes before and had been given his landing orders. In three hours he would set foot on his native soil, and yet the prospect left him cold.

“You will be back, Tankar,” Holonas had said when Tankar came to bid him farewell. “You have become more of a Stellaran than you know, and you will find that you are leaving too much of yourself here to abandon us forever.

“You have matured, as well. If I understand the lessons I have learned from history, you are not going to like what you’re going to find on Earth any better than you like what you are leaving behind here, especially given what you have learned since you have been with us.”

Tan also warned him, “You’ll be back, Tankar. You’ll find the Empire on its knees, and nothing will be as it was when you left. And, when you return, you’ll find a transformed Tilsin; nobody on this vessel will forget that you saved our lives.”

And Anaena had said, “You’ll be back, Tankar. You’ll come back because I love you.”

He did not think so. However he might find Earth changed, it was still his home, his world, his civilization. In time, he would forget. It had been only two months since Iolia had died, and already he could think of her without going mad. The pain would diminish but never vanish, the emptiness never would be filled…but he had so much to accomplish on Earth.

He reminded himself of the information he had picked up on the com stream from the stations on Earth. He still did not understand the exact circumstances of the collapse, but the Empire had, indeed, fallen. He learned that the council now governing the planet sent out frequent calls to the last of the Imperial Force asking them to cease hostilities and join the reconstruction efforts.

The astroport instructed him to land. He gently glided over the European continent appalled at the devastation below. Br’lin, Lyon, Marsei lay in ruins. At last he saw Imperia straddling the strait between Europe and Africa. The intercontinental bridges had collapsed, and few ships sailed the waters. On the south bank where the imperial palace had stood so arrogantly lay only an enormous crater. The massive expanse of concrete that used to buzz with the activity of countless cruisers and scouts lay virtually empty. Heaps of rusted metal sat where the control tower used to stand. A much smaller tower, only a hundred meters tall, now displayed the directional antennae.

Tankar felt a stab to his heart when he spotted the Scorpion, his torpedo, pretty much still intact except for a dent in the chassis. He would have recognized that vessel among a thousand others. None except the Scorpion had such a long slim prow and two retractable turrets just near the midship. Good old Scorpion! Came out of it still in one piece! Who commands her now? One of my old comrades? he wondered.

Ignoring the signals from the control tower, he landed the launch right next to the Scorpion and jumped to the ground. He ran across the cracked concrete and touched the sun-kissed steel with his cheek.

“Hey, you! What were you thinking? We might’ve shot you, you know,” a familiar voice greeted him as a car with four men in it parked next to him. “Tankar Holroy! They told me it was you, but I didn’t believe it! Where’ve you been all this time? You were listed as MIA.” Per Erickson smiled at him from behind the windshield.

Tankar smiled in return. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Have you come to surrender?”

“Surrender? Maybe. I really don’t know what’s going on here.”

“Get in. I’ll explain.”

“Who’s commanding the Scorpion?”

“Me. But we don’t go much of anywhere these days. Other things to do. You do know the Empire’s finished, right? The people have seized power, and the Council is in charge. There’s no more nobility.”

“And you’re in the army?”

“I never was a big fan of the old order. I even was suspected of being a traitor quite recently. I surrendered pretty much immediately. You?”

“I did far worse,” Tankar lied. “I never delivered the orders to the 7th Fleet.” He pulled the envelope still bearing the imperial seal from a jacket pocket.

“See? They’re right here.”

“That’s wonderful! You’ll be welcomed with open arms. Had the 7th Fleet arrived everything would have turned out differently.” Erickson paused. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel, though.”

“Do you remember Hekor?”

“He was your friend, wasn’t he?” the man remembered and nodded. “I understand.”

“So who’s in charge now?” Tankar asked.

“There’s Jon Simak, Louis Lantier, Herman Schwabe. I don’t think you know the others.”

Tankar grimaced. Three former generals, known throughout the Empire for their corruption and ruthless ambition. “I thought the people—”

“The Council governs in the name of the people,” Erickson cut him off and jabbed his friend in the ribs. “Later today you’ll be interrogated about your adventures. For now…have you had lunch? No? Okay, come on.”

The mess was in a cabin thrown together made of forged planks and sheet metal. The food was copious but tasteless.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to,” Erickson demanded, “Although I’m not supposed to talk to you about it….”

Erickson leaned forward so as not to be overheard. “We former Stellar Guards need to stick together. You might know things that are dangerous for you to talk about. I’ll tell you which ones.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve got much to worry about. After I received my orders, I took the Fomalhaut route and, when I was beyond communications range, I changed course. I flew to the edge of the Empire and landed on a human planet.”

“One of the first colonies? How are things out there?” Erickson wondered.

“Not bad. I was well received even though I blew up my ship. One of their starships brought me back and dropped me off about two million kilometers from Earth in one of their launches.”

“Are they powerful?”

“At its peak, the Empire could’ve crushed them; now, we’d do well to leave them alone. They’re part of a confederation of more than a hundred planets and have some non-human allies as well.”

The deception came easily to him; he had carefully constructed the story during his final week on the Tilsin. “I’ll fill in the details to the investigative services. Tell me how things are here.”

“About as good as they can be. I’ll talk to you about it in greater detail when we have more time this evening at my place. While you wait for an apartment of your own, you’ll stay with me! You can’t refuse; former Guards must stick together.”

“Why didn’t the investigators meet me when I landed? In the days of the Empire….”

“Probably too busy. You’re my responsibility for now. I have to take you over to them in an hour.”

The friends talked about this and that: the rebellion, which comrades had died – most of them – and which ones had survived.

The interrogation was slow and meticulous. He did not know any of the men who grilled him. He told his story and provided details about the world where he had supposedly hidden out. He even showed them a few photos of various worlds the Tilsin had visited, provided by the Teknor.

“And they entrusted one of their ships to you?” The question stank of suspicion.

Tankar smiled. “A small interplanetary scout that could travel a few billion kilometers but lacked a hyperspatial device.”

“Which one do they use?”

“Not sure. Different from ours, I believe, but they never let me get close to the machine room or the cockpit. They did, however, show off their weaponry, arms much like the ones we have…or had. I’ll provide a written report.”

“What was their policy toward us?”

“Wait and see. They were aware of the Empire and hated it. They also learned of its downfall, which is when I found out and asked to be brought home.”

“Good. While you wait for an assignment, remain available to us. You’ll be paid your lieutenant’s salary.” Tankar stood, prepared to leave, but froze upon hearing, “But if you’ve lied to us, you’ll be sorry.”

“I failed to deliver the imperial orders! What more do you want from me?” he demanded furiously.

“We know,” one of the interrogators sneered, his hand on the folder containing the orders, its self-destruct seal untouched. “You may go.”

Erikson’s apartment was small but comfortable. Seated in a leather chair, glass in hand, Tankar relaxed until a question from his host took him aback. “Okay, old buddy, now that we can’t be overheard, tell me the truth. Where were you?”

“But…I told you,” Tankar insisted.

Erickson grinned. “Yeah, right. You hated the general for sending Hekor to his death, but the Empire itself was the only thing you lived for. You? Not transmit an order? You’re joking! Were you in prison? Nothing to be ashamed of there. Who sent you? The Martians?”

“The Martians? Have we sunk that low?”

“Yup. Mars is independent, and so is Venus. The Empire, or I should say the People’s Commonwealth, is down to Earth and the Moon. We’ve had no news from planets in other systems. Unless, of course, you can give us some.”

“I’ve told you the truth! I swear.”

“Fine. Not important.” Erickson shrugged, then got serious. “But I’m going to tell you the truth. Of course, you know nothing about any conspiracy. I’m gonna try and fill you in even though I don’t know all the details. Bel Caron led the rebellion against Ktius VII.”

“The historian? The Emperor’s cousin?”

“That’s the guy. Now you can see why we struggled to arrest the conspirators! Bel Caron himself was a member of the Emperor’s private council!”

“But he was such a gentle dreamer.”

“Not a dreamer, not gentle.” Erickson grimaced. “Anyway. As you know the rebellion broke out and, from the beginning, it took off in ways nobody could’ve predicted. Twenty days after you left, without the support of the 7th fleet, the Emperor surrendered, but most of the cities were in ruins, most of the factories destroyed, and famine and epidemics decimated the population.” He stared sadly at Tankar. “Do you know how many people live on Earth now, at least as far as we can tell? One billion, five hundred million….”

“One and a half billion instead of…?”

“Seven billion, yes. But that’s the least of it. The first few months were full of hope. Caron surrounded himself with honest, energetic men and began to put what was left of the Empire back together. For the first time in centuries, the people enjoyed new freedoms, small ones but real. Faith re-established itself, and the rebellion might have given rise to many good things if the generals’ coup had failed.

“But it succeeded. They assassinated Caron and his ministers and took their place. You know their worth as well as I do. Freedom suppressed again, militia everywhere, Mars and Venus have seceded, and we disemboweled Titan with an A-bomb, the last one in our arsenal, I believe. That’s the world you’ve rejoined, Tankar.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’d surrendered before the end of the revolt, as I told you. The Caron government asked me to stay available while they did a background check. Eventually the generals called on me to join them. I’m a fleet admiral, Tankar! Some kind of fleet, though. Two torpedoes, one of which is your Scorpion that serves as my flagship. We also have five scouts and a limping old cruiser.

“Our crews are filled with dirty, undisciplined, technically illiterate people. There are a few acceptable survivors. The competent technicians who weren’t executed by the Empire have been killed by our current dictators. Only three or four of us in the entire world remain familiar with hypertron theory.” Erickson got up to refill his own glass and offered Tankar another round. Tankar thanked him and declined. “The Great Twilight has fallen on our beloved Earth, Tankar. Will she ever rise again?

“You should’ve stayed where you were, believe me. But it wouldn’t be such a big deal without the constant snitching, the stupid executions, the endless petty tyranny. If I’d been alone when you landed I would’ve asked you to take me back with you. But I was with Betus, whose sole job is to keep an eye on me. I was able to fill you in some in the mess hall only because we sat in the one area where the hidden mikes don’t work.”

Tankar recalled Holonas’s words, If I understand what I learned from history….

He asked his friend, “What do you think might happen to me?”

“Oh, if you don’t oppose them, everything’ll be fine. They’re desperately in need of technicians. You’re a traitor to the previous regime since, for whatever reason, you didn’t deliver the orders to the 7th Fleet. So, like me, you’ll get any job you want with restricted liberty if you hide your real feelings and obey without hesitation. That’d make three of us: you, me, and Jan Malvert. Maybe someday we’ll be able to escape…?”

You’ll be back, Tankar. Maybe that prediction had been accurate. But he needed to see for himself before he decided. He would see what the generals had to offer. In any case, the Tilsin would not be at the rendezvous point for another six months.

Meanwhile, he would report for duty.

* * *

“Damn it! Not that way! I’ve shown you 10 times already!”

Tankar yanked the key out of the hands of the new recruit and unscrewed two nuts. The heavy fulgurator’s cylinder head dropped into his left hand.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Sorry, Captain.”

Tankar looked at the young man, skinny, clumsy, and half-starved. And they want me to turn these pathetic specimens into astronauts.

The sun pelted down on the cracked concrete, and a revolting smell of stagnating weapons’ oil seeped out from below the training-center hangar. More than five months had passed. His stay on the Tilsin seemed like a dream. He did his best to think about it as little as possible since those thoughts brought back the grief, muted yet still present. Where were they now? Surely headed toward Earth unless the Mpfifis…. No, that enemy had not yet broken through into this part of the galaxy, and the Tilsin now was able to fight them off.

Tankar glanced at the time and saw it was just noon. “Take a break,” he ordered. “We recommence training at 2 p.m.”

The men saluted and left flanked by two officers. He watched them go, feeling both disgust and sympathy. It was not their fault they were such mediocre candidates. One cannot train an astronaut simply by calling up any old twenty-year-old. They were willing, enthusiastic even, but they lacked the most basic knowledge of mechanics, and they were in terrible physical shape.

Tankar shrugged, remembering that, under the Empire, at least people got enough to eat. He had not been much more at liberty then than he was now. He wondered if there had been any happy, hopeful times under Caron’s brief governance. Had it been worth the deaths of billions of people? The conspirators had wrongly believed that, other than the members of the old regime and those who had profited from it, everybody else yearned for freedom. Many probably just wanted to turn society upside down, to debase the high and mighty and to raise up the poor and humble.

Why did it matter to him? He had wanted to return to Earth to renew ties to a past he discovered no longer existed. In this new society, he was like a fossil, a relic from long gone and forgotten days of glory. If only Bel Caron had succeeded…Tankar would have fully devoted himself to any ethical enterprise. He would not have been able to support the Empire again; he knew that, because his stay among the Stellarans had changed him too profoundly, upsetting old ideas and values. He had become an eternal outsider, a sort of hybrid who still carried within him shreds of outdated ethical codes that had prevented him from fully integrating into Stellaran society. And yet, on the other hand, he no longer could live with those same codes without questioning whether the authority giving orders had the right to give them.

But he needed to make up his mind soon. Within 10 days the Tilsin would slip behind the Moon and wait for him for 48 hours after which he would no longer have a choice. The Tilsin would leave and never return carrying with it Tan, Holonas, Anaena, Petersen, his friends, his enemies, and the memory of Iolia.

He smiled to himself. And I mustn’t forget Pei’s paintings!

Escape would not be easy. Erickson would probably help, and Malvert too, but all three of them remained suspect and under constant surveillance. Since his return, Tankar had managed only one short flight on the Scorpion accompanied by two ‘guests’ who wore Guard uniforms that failed to mask their stiff political police affiliation. The launch from the Tilsin was out of operation because its motors were being ‘studied’, and now, too slow and lacking weaponry, it wouldn’t survive 10 seconds against a scout in spite of the fact that the scouts also were in deplorable condition. Tankar’s only hope was the Scorpion, but it required four people to operate.

Tankar left camp on foot. The only person allowed transportation off base was Erickson given his standing as Admiral of the Fleet. In order to get to the canteen, Tankar had to cross a poor neighborhood largely destroyed in the recent bombings. He preferred the canteen to the sinister mess hall where any overheard conversation could lead to execution or assassination. He refused to frequent the trendy restaurants preferred by the new regime profiteers. Crowds shuffled along around him. The men were in tattered clothes, the women indifferent to their appearance, children silent with the pain of hunger. His uniform earned him some hateful looks, but most of the passersby could muster nothing more than apathy, the despair over the revolution that had been stolen from them still too potent for anyone to re-engage with the idea of rebellion. Tankar thought of Erickson’s cynical words, “The Great Twilight has fallen on our beloved Earth, Tankar. Will she ever rise again?”

What was Tankar doing in this world in the midst of its death throes? What had he achieved since his sabotaged starship had sent him careening into space? Had he really tried to gain the acceptance, the respect, of the Stellarans? No. He’d sulked and paid back their stupid prejudice with his own stupid stubbornness. As a result, he had indirectly caused Iolia’s death. From the perspective of the Stellar Guard’s ethical standards, his actions had been inexcusable. The only times that he could recall without misery or shame were those he’d spent with Anaena on the unnamed planet. Anaena, the woman who loved him….

He had loved her too, passionately, for a time, before Iolia’s kindness won him over. Perhaps if there had not been the scene with the Pilgrims, or if Anaena’s insults had not provoked his pride, he might never have married Iolia. He, himself, did not regret the marriage as he had been happy for the first time in his life. But could it have lasted? he wondered. In the depths of his soul, he doubted it. Maybe the way that things turned out was for the best. Maybe there had been mercy in the Mpfifis’ final torpedo.

It was the screaming that brought him back into the here and now. Two soldiers in a tavern doorway pulled a young woman toward the street. She resisted, but two other soldiers inside the bar pushed her out. The tavern owner looked pale and silently wrung his hands.

Tankar approached. “What’s going on here?”

One of the soldiers stood up straight and insolently stood to attention. “Nothing, Captain. A whore who refuses to go to bed with us four.”

“Let go of her. Orders are very clear: no disturbances in town.”

“But, Captain….”

“Leave her alone! And stand properly!”

“Yes, Captain.”

The woman stood up and shook her long black hair away from her face. Tankar glanced at her and saw a young woman, pretty enough, but with skin badly marred by rosacea. Where had he seen her before? Some bar, most likely.

“What’s your unit?”

“Third infantry, Captain.”

“Good. You’ll present my respects to your colonel, and you’ll ask him on my behalf to stick each of you with eight days in jail. Here’s my card.”

He scribbled a few words on the card and handed it to the soldier, who saluted and walked away.

“Holroy, watch it!” The shout prompted him instinctively to lower his head and duck. He heard the rustle of the bullet, spun around and shot the soldier who stood there with his gun still smoking. The man fell to the sidewalk, and his companions rushed away as fast as they could.

“Who warned me?” he demanded.

“I did,” said the young woman.

“You know my name?”

“Who doesn’t know the former champion of the stellar race?”

“Come with me,” he offered.

“Where?” she asked warily.

“To my place first, and then to lunch.”

“I’m a singer, nothing else.”

Tankar blushed. “I don’t ask people to pay for my assistance, miss. But if you have a mirror, take a look at yourself; you may see you could benefit from freshening up.”

The young woman grimaced. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. In that case, I’d actually prefer to use my own room. Would you like to wait here or come with me? That is…if you still wish to buy me lunch.”

He followed her into the tavern and crossed a big room, dark and low-ceilinged, empty at that time of day. The manager, an older fat man, approached. “Thank you, Captain, for rescuing Elda from those brutes.”

“Your daughter?”

“No, a friend of my daughter. She’s a wonderful singer and works hard at it. She could make really good money if she chose to, given the fat bastards who come slumming to this joint.” The man came closer to Tankar and whispered, “If anyone bothers you, I know a guy who could, for a small price….”

“No, thanks.”

“At your service,” the man said with a bow, quickly vanishing into the gloomy tavern.

The young woman asked Tankar to take a seat in a small room and slipped into her own saying, “Ten minutes, I’ll be back.”

He waited and admired a chromo of the battle of Anatares III on a wall.

“Here I am!”

Tankar turned and looked at her. Speechless, he stood and bowed deeply before her. “Countess Iria! It’s you!” The young woman had transformed. Her golden-hued skin was clear, her hair a reddish blond.

In an anxious voice she pleaded, “You won’t betray me, will you, Holroy? You and the kindly tavern owner are the only two people who know my true identity.”

“Have no fear. But he….”

“Once upon a time, I did the same favor for his daughter that you just did for me. He’s never forgotten, and he’d die before giving me up.”

“Countess Iria…!”

“Yes,” she smiled sadly. “The Inaccessible Dream. The Stellar Guards used to call me that; you may have called me that yourself. During those god-awful days I became all too accessible, but not by choice.”

“Aren’t you concerned about people recognizing you when you go out?”

“I present the real me to you now for only a few moments. Some quick-dye hair color, a little makeup on my face, and I’ll be the woman you saw earlier. Pretty enough for a singer in a shady bar, but not pretty enough to be worth kidnapping.”

“And yet, those soldiers….”

She shrugged. “Things happen. It was only the second occasion.” She took charge. “We’re wasting time here. I’ll get ready quickly…it’s just that I wanted to know if you’d remember me.”

“You haven’t changed,” he assured her.

“I was 20 then, and I’m two hundred now.” She paused before returning to her room to ask, “Do you really want to go to a restaurant? Uncle David can make us a very nice meal here.”

“As you wish,” Tankar conceded.

Served in a tiny windowless room, the meal was the best Tankar had had in a long time, the best he had had since leaving the Tilsin. The meats were delicious and beautifully prepared, the fruits fresh and the vegetables perfect. He expressed surprise.

“Oh, it’s not that unusual. Uncle David’s tavern appeals both to the dregs of society and to those who claim to be the new elite. They’re no better than the ones who came before, of course. Our new noble class has money, and Uncle David has no reservations about taking some of it off their hands.”

“Uncle David?”

“That’s what he likes me to call him,” she explained. “I won’t talk about his past, or even his present, but toward me he is always a gentleman. I ‘saved his little Thesa from shame’ is the way he puts it. He took me in after....”

“It must’ve been terrible.”

“Yes. In just a few months I fell from the height of society to the dregs. My family was murdered, and all of my friends killed or disappeared….”

“How did Caron permit it?”

“I’m not talking about the first revolution. That time my family suffered losses, of course, as did many others, but it was all tolerable. Caron was a cousin of mine, and he looked after us. We were one of the few noble families that commoners didn’t despise. The bad things, the very bad things came later. After the degenerates you currently work for came to power.”

Both sympathetic and exasperated, Tankar demanded, “What do you want me to do? To restore the Empire all by myself? When I returned from my mission almost six months ago, I found things as they are now. I knew nothing about anything. They offered me the training job. What should I have done? Pulled out one of those fulgurators I no longer own and get myself killed? I don’t intend to serve these people until I die, Countess.”

With a dismissive gesture she sighed, “Oh, spare me the old title. Now I’m just Elda the singer. In the end, out of sheer exhaustion, I’ll probably end up marrying some commoner I can train to bathe regularly, and we’ll produce a litter of little slaves for the regime.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t have much choice either.”

Suddenly, she spoke with passion. “Oh, if I could leave! Emigrate! Somewhere among the planets there must be a place that’s not as horrid as this one. But commercial travel is forbidden, and my yacht, the Diamond, languishes somewhere disemboweled. I’ll never again have the joy of piloting, that’s over. You at least, now and again….”

“Yeah. With two cops on my tail all the time…but I had forgotten you have a pilot’s license.”

“I even won the Earth-Pluto round-trip race, women’s division.” Responding to the look on his face she added, “Oh, I know you annoying male chauvinist Guard types look on that race as second-rate.”

Tankar thought out loud. “So, you’re a trained pilot? Do you know how to keep watch on hypertrons?”

“I’ve never done it…. But why do you want to know? Tell me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. A foolish idea, perhaps….”

Iria stood up and gripped his arms hard. “You want to leave? You want to steal a starship? Don’t leave without me, Holroy. I’ll do anything, I’ll clean the bridges, I—”

He smiled reassuringly. “Nothing like that. The only thing I need to know is if you can track hypertrons. The Scorpion could leave at any point except for one small thing. The automatic adjustment system has been removed and the special police have it under lock and key, so we’d need four people on board: a pilot, a navigator, someone to take charge of the artillery, and the fourth on the hypertrons so as to manually compensate for any deviations. Would you be able to do that?”

“If I remember correctly, in the old days there was always a mechanic in that post. It’s not difficult. One just needs to turn a wheel until the red alarm lights go off.”

Tankar nodded. “No, it’s not difficult but it requires cold-blooded focus. If the deviation widens until the axes cross, you know what’ll happen.”

“I’m ready to take that risk!”

“Yes, you are, but are we ready to take the risk? I’d need to test your reflexes and your response times, but you won’t be allowed into the camp, so I can’t.” Tankar made the decision. “I’ll speak to the others and let you know.” He stood up. “Can I entrust Uncle David with a message to you?”

“You’ll come back to see me, right?”

Tankar quickly shook his head. “No. Bad idea to draw attention to the tavern.”

“Don’t you think the corpse of that soldier will attract attention?”

“No. Every day we need to kill one or more of them for murder, mutiny, that kind of thing.”

“Then just tell Uncle David that you’re confirming our appointment.”

“If everything goes according to plan, you’ll see me in the big room while you’re singing. As soon as you finish, quickly exit through the side door. I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * *

Tankar leaned over the man he had just shot and saw the average face of any anonymous soldier. This one had suffered the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rain pounded down on the astroport’s runway concealing the minimal illumination.

“Let’s go, come on! Let’s get out of here!” He and Countess Iria left the body in the guardhouse and raced through the downpour, wading through the puddles created by holes in the decaying concrete. Slowly a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness in the gleam of a lighthouse stationed at the far end of the tarmac.

“Who goes there?” whispered a voice.

“Tankar!”

“Move fast. Malvert just told me they’ve changed the times of the relief rotation, so we’ve got just 15 minutes.”

“Damn it! Come on.”

A brief glint from a hololight revealed a gaping hole in the side of the ship directly above a metal ladder. “Everyone on board!” The lock snapped shut with a click that sounded loud enough to echo as far as the city.

“Iria, follow me,” Tankar ordered.

“This is my first visit to a warship,” the countess whispered as she quickly scanned the interior.

“This is your post,” he explained. “See this row of eight red lights? They’re off now. Six of them control spatial alignment and two control temporal alignment. They’re laid out in four groups, each with a steering wheel. If a red light comes on, steer to the right. Same on the left until the red lights go off. Whenever a lamp flashes you’ll hear a whistle sound for about five seconds. If it takes you longer than that, pull this red lever –” he pointed, “– all the way back. That’ll short-circuit the hypertrons if the alignment isn’t out of whack.”

“And what if more than one lamp comes on at the same time?” she worried.

“Two at the most. Do your best. Don’t get scared; five seconds is a lot longer than you think!” he encouraged her.

“It’s very unusual for a misalignment to take place on two levels. When the hypertrons start working again, you’ll see a green light. From then on you can’t take your eyes off the red lamps. Buckle in tightly, because if you need to switch off everything, the ride’ll get bumpy. Do you understand? Repeat everything I just said….

“Fine…. See you later…and good luck!”

“Good luck to all of us, Holroy,” Iria called after him.

Tankar entered the cockpit, familiar from the countless times he’d piloted the ship. Erickson sat in the navigator’s seat. Malvert had disappeared, locking himself into the weaponry control turret. Erickson asked, “Do you think she’ll hold?”

“My Scorpion? Of course! We’re good to go,” Tankar insisted cheerfully. “Let’s do a run-through of the checklist. Piloting circuits?”

“Clear.”

“Vision circuit?”

“Clear.”

“Artillery circuit?”

“Clear.”

“Gravitons?”

“On charge.”

“Hypertrons?”

“On charge. Neutral. Aligned.”

“Inertrons?”

The men heard the grinding sound of motors. Tankar turned on the night screen and saw four trucks zooming toward the Scorpion and men running toward the cruiser just a hundred meters away.

“Screw the checklist, Tankar! Lift off, lift off now!” Erickson called.

“Don’t panic, we’ve got plenty of time.” Over the intercom he announced, “We’re taking off!”

The Scorpion slowly lifted off and gained altitude, its nose tilted toward the cloud-covered sky. Grenades exploded where the ship had been parked moments before. Tankar pressed hard on the joystick, but the inertrons, which were in bad shape, barely compensated; the acceleration shoved the crew down onto their seats. The intercom groaned.

“Hang on tight, Iria. As soon as we exit the atmosphere, I’ll activate the hypertrons and it’ll be over.”

“I’ll hang on,” she returned.

“Have you calculated the jump factor, Eriks?”

“Two A.L.s.”

“That’s enough. Altitude? My altimeter seems to be out of whack.”

“Forty kilometers. The cruiser’s taking off,” Erickson warned.

“Zap down those chemicals, Malvert. Show them the Scorpion still has sting in its tail. Altitude?”

“Fifty.”

“I’ll move us into hyperspace when we get to a hundred,” Tankar confirmed.

“That could be dangerous!”

“Can’t turn back now. Where’s the torpedo?”

“Not there yet…oh, yes it is!” On the rear screen a flower of fire erupted, piercing the night.

“We’ll need more than one to knock out a cruiser,” Tankar noted, “but the first one’ll slow them down. Altitude?”

“Eighty-two.”

He shook his head. “I thought we were higher. The Scorpion’s lost some of her luster. But the hull must be red, if I can believe the thermal indicators. Let me know when we hit a hundred.”

“We’re there!” Erickson announced.

“Look sharp, Iria, I’m activating the hypertrons—” Suddenly, he turned to Erickson. “You son of a bitch! You blocked the altimeter so I wouldn’t see we’d hit 110!”

“We had plenty of time,” his friend countered. “And it really isn’t a good idea to enter hyper fewer than two hundred kilometers from a planet!”

Tankar cooled off. “Okay. Fine. We have about seven seconds till jump. Get ready…three…two…one…zero.” The familiar nausea hit them all. “Let’s hope their crew of new recruits won’t be able to follow us,” he sighed.

“I inspected the cruiser myself this afternoon,” Erickson chuckled. “They’re going to have a hard time getting their tracer to work.” He and Tankar shared a grin. “What route should I calculate, Tankar?”

“Two A.L. One hundred eighty degrees.”

“What? You want to go back to Earth? Why? Let’s head straight for the world you lived on.”

“I have a rendezvous behind the Moon. I never lived on a planet; I apologize for feeding you all a pack of lies. If I’d told you the truth, you’d never have believed me.” The look on Erickson’s face forced him to explain further. “We’re going to meet up with a vessel belonging to the People of the Stars. After that, we’ll decide what to do. If you don’t want to stay with them, they’ll drop you off on the world of your choosing.”

“The People of the Stars?”

“They’re descendants of the scientists who fled during Kilos II.”

“And you came back to Earth to spy on us for them?” Erickson accused.

“No. They don’t give a damn about Earth. It’s far more complicated. I’ll tell you all about it later, but you can be sure I haven’t betrayed you.”

* * *

“Tankar, you’re back! Who are these men?”

“Friends who helped me without knowing anything about you all.”

“And is the person here a woman friend?”

Tankar smirked. “Calm down, Ana! I’ll explain. Right now, we have more urgent matters to attend to. Tan, can we take the Scorpion instead of the launch? She’s slightly bigger.”

“We can try.” The Teknor nodded. “It should work.”

“I’d really like to keep her. She’s a good ship, and she might be useful, since she’s armed.” Turning to Erickson, Malvert and Iria, he waved and said, “See you all later.”

* * *

“So that’s it,” Tankar finished telling his story to the Teknor and Anaena. “I can’t live on Earth anymore, and I don’t think I can live here with you. What’s left? A former Empire planet? An external world? I’d feel like a stranger everywhere. When I was with you, I had the hope of going home. Of course, I knew there’d be changes, but I never could’ve imagined what I found.”

“You’ll adapt more easily to life on the Tilsin, now that that false hope has died,” Tan said.

“Perhaps,” Tankar conceded. “I don’t think you can understand how difficult that would be for me. You see things so differently from me. For example: for you all it’s normal to move from one city-state to another. Oh, I know the cultures remain the same, but that’s the key. To me, each of your different cities would represent an entirely new world, and I lack the communal spirit that makes you so adaptable. I’d end up having issues with dialects that I didn’t fully grasp, old jokes that I simply wouldn’t get, like what do you mean when you talk about Jona the Great’s spacesuit? What does the Teknor’s blow mean? And too many other idioms….”

“You’re so impatient, Tankar,” Anaena said. “You lived among us for only a few months. Everything’s changed since then! We’ve come to understand that planetary civilizations have many qualities that we’d do well to adopt. It was a hard lesson to learn…much harder for you, of course.”

“I won’t forget that anytime soon,” Tankar grimaced. “All right. I’ll try in good faith to adapt. What about my crewmates?”

“Whatever they want,” the Teknor promised. “They may remain with us, or we can drop them off on a planet of their choosing.” He paused to give Tankar a look, then added, “For you, it might be better if they stayed.”

Tankar nodded. “You may be right. I’m exhausted. May I go?”

“I’ll take you there,” Anaena quickly offered.

Tankar barely recognized his little apartment. Pei’s paintings had been framed and new furniture brought in. For a moment, he felt like he was coming home.

“I knew you’d be back, Tankar.” Anaena broke into his thoughts. “I would’ve picked you up myself on an armed launch if you hadn’t found a way to escape. Does this décor suit?”

“Yes, thank you, Ana.” He studied her. “You know, I really don’t deserve all this effort. I’m nothing more than a pig-headed ass who made himself and others unhappy.”

“It’s not like we were much better! Make an effort, Tankar…please. I’ll help you, you’ll see. This time you’ll make it work.”

“Everything around me has gone to pieces. The Empire, the Guards, my self-esteem, my self-confidence. Don’t cling to a living corpse, Ana. Any of the lesser Tilsin men will be a better choice for you.”

“I don’t believe you. Let’s talk about something else. We put your friends in neighboring apartments. Who are they?”

“The men are friends from the Stellar Guard. The woman is a former aristocrat who was slightly less dreadful than the others.”

“She’s very beautiful,” Anaena observed.

“Yes. The young officers used to call her ‘the Inaccessible Dream’; she was very proud of that. Her family was very wealthy, so none of us could’ve hoped to marry her, but she’s not mean-spirited, just…vain. She did have the courage to pilot her yacht in space.” He smiled. “I danced with her once….”

“You’re not in love with her, are you?”

He laughed. “Me? I don’t love anybody, including myself.”

“Yes,” Ana said sadly. “I know.”

“I’ll get over it someday, I suppose. Goodnight, Ana, and thank you.” He waited until she had crossed the threshold to close the door behind her.