Authors: Mack Maloney
It was a woman.
A very beautiful woman.
She was dressed all in black. Black jacket. Black miniskirt, black stockings. Black boots. Her low-cut black top showed a hint of substantial breasts. Her hair was blond and flowing over her shoulders. Even with the heavy makeup, her face was stunning.
Hunter heard himself say: “Wow…”
His first thought, of course, was that Erx and Berx had arranged for another Echo 323 to be delivered to him. They were such great guys!
But then it dawned on him—holo-girls had no need for a royal escort. Could someone this beautiful be the real thing?
She smiled. “I’m sorry, Mister Hunter. Am I disturbing you?”
Hunter fumbled for a reply. “That would be impossible, I think,” he finally said.
She smiled again. Her coterie of guards popped out.
That’s when Hunter realized just who this was. He recognized her from the race earlier that day.
It was the Empress. The wife of O’Nay. Alone. Standing at his apartment door.
“Well, are you going to invite me in?” she asked him.
Hunter stumbled back a foot or two. She wiggled by him, allowing the door to close behind her.
She walked into the apartment, took a look around, and smiled. “Nice place—though I should say you need some more furniture—and it could use a woman’s touch. Even a holo-girl might help out here.”
“I still don’t know how to work those things…” Hunter said, regretting each word as it floated from his mouth.
But she just smiled again. She was stunning, if several years older than he.
“You must be the only man left in the Galaxy who doesn’t,” she said.
She took a seat on the couch; he did too. Five words kept spinning around in his head.
What is
she
doing
here?
“I hear you were off with both my husband and my son today,” she said. “Did my son behave himself?”
“I can’t imagine he ever misbehaves,” Hunter answered as politely as he could.
She laughed. “No need to be nice about it. It still happens on a daily basis.”
Hunter looked around his place helplessly. “I’m sorry… I don’t have anything to offer you… that is, I’m not sure if you even—”
She reached over and touched him on the knee. He felt a jolt of something go right through him.
“Relax, Mister Hunter,” she told him. “An Empress can have a sip of wine every once in a while.”
She gently snapped her fingers, and a bottle of wine was suddenly in her hand. Another snap, two goblets appeared. But this was not a bottle of extravagant ‘cloud wine she was holding. It was slow-ship.
Hunter just looked up at her and laughed. “You’ll never convince me that you actually drink that stuff.”
“Should I take that as a challenge?” she asked him.
Hunter began stuttering some reply. Jessuz, what was going on here? One moment he’s at a party in the sky, the next he’s inside a mountain somewhere—and now he was sitting next to the Empress of the Galaxy.
This sure
ain’t
Fools 6
, he thought.
“My husband took you to that awful place in the desert, I suppose?” she asked, pouring him some wine.
“We went to the desert, yes…”
She rolled her eyes. “With all those guards. And the security. And that Big Generator thing?”
Hunter nodded. “That was the tour.”
She sighed dramatically and handed him his wine. “But I insisted he bring you someplace
interesting
.”
“Well, it
was
interesting, especially…” Hunter began to say.
She tapped his knee again, gently interrupting him. “
Please
!” she said. “There’s interesting… then there’s really
interesting
…”
Finally a light was dawning somewhere deep in Hunter’s brain. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of her.
“And you know one from the other?” he asked her.
She seemed delighted. “You might be shocked to hear this, but I am here to make up for any amount of boredom my family has caused you today. You ran such a magnificent race, you deserve more than a ride on that very tacky
Vegasus
or a trip to stare at a big black box in the wilderness.”
Hunter sipped his wine. His hand was shaking. “What are you suggesting exactly?”
“I’m suggesting you let me take you to
my
favorite place… the place I think is interesting…”
“You? Take me?”
“That’s right…”
“Where?”
“Venus,” she said with a laugh.
“
Venus
? The planet Venus?”
“Yes, the planet Venus…”
Hunter tried to sip his wine again. But it was a no-go. He could barely bring the cup to his lips.
“When?”
She stood up. “Well, right now, of course.”
He looked up at her—she was absolutely gorgeous, in that regal sort of way. And he suspected her bodyguards were lurking just once dimension away. And it was probably not prudent to refuse the Emperor’s wife anything.
“How can I say no?” he finally replied.
She smiled again.
Flash
!
Venus was the second body in the solar system that the Ancient Engineers had puffed. Only Mars had come first.
The morning planet had taken to its terraforming right away, completely transforming itself in a then amazing five hundred years. These days a planet could be made habitable in hours. Several thousand years ago, a five-hundred-year puff was considered absolutely speedy.
So Venus was no longer enshrouded in thick clouds and raining hydrochloric acid. Like Earth, its cloud cover was 30 percent at any given time. Also like Earth, it had one ocean that spread around the planet, pole to pole. This one surrounded two massive continents and several smaller ones. One of these was the island continent of Zros.
These days Earth’s sister planet served as a very exclusive getaway for the extended Imperial Family—even the Very Fortunates weren’t allowed here. The planet featured tens of thousands of summer palaces, seaside resorts, vineyards, and spas. Zros was the
numero uno
place to be, though.
Sitting just north of the equator in the middle of the western part of the ocean, its irregular shape looked not unlike a human heart. With lush forests and thousands of miles of exotic beaches dotted with towering, castlelike resorts, Zros pandered only to the cream of the Specials. It was awash in Holy Blood.
Hunter found himself at the top of a very tall building, looking west onto a beautiful jungle and the sea beyond.
This building was the tallest of a vast complex of luxurious châteaus that spread out over high cliffs for at least twenty miles in each direction. This place was called La-Shangri.
It was a three-tiered palace, bigger than the other châteaus by a factor of ten. They had popped in on a balcony atop the highest spire of the place; a cadre of Imperial bodyguards appeared right after them.
The palace roof was already crawling with Imperial soldiers. The airspace surrounding the complex was thick with patrol craft and even some larger, armed
culverins
, corvette-size warships more commonly used in space.
The Empress ignored all this commotion and led Hunter down a passageway and into a huge room. This room was made of sheer superglass and hung out over a cliff nearly half a mile above the ocean.
A huge party of the Specials was in full swing here; indeed, it appeared to have been going non stop for some time. Heads turned when the Empress walked in, Hunter just behind her. Most of the revelers simply nodded in her direction and then went back to their dancing, drinking, and general merriment.
Hunter guessed there were more than a thousand people on hand, most of them beautiful young women.
Unlike the
Vegasus
, the atmosphere here was subtle, sensuous. Sexual.
“Every person in this room is related to me,” the Empress whispered in his ear. “Half of them snobs, the other half are slobs. It makes for an interesting mix, don’t you think?”
Before Hunter could answer, she began dancing away from him. He found a goblet of sparkling blue liquid in his hand. The Empress had one, too. She drained hers in one gulp.
My kind of Empress
, Hunter thought. Then her jacket came off. The music got louder; the mixture of pulsating bass and ethereal strings was hypnotic. She floated away, kicking off her boots and allowing the crowd to take her over.
She was quickly swallowed up by the mass of arms and legs and lips. Hunter felt a sensation run through him; it was not entirely due to the cool blue liquid he was drinking either. The Empress came back into view, dancing slowly, eyes closed. Hunter took a gulp of his drink. Was it his imagination, or could he see right through her tight black top?
Hunter blinked—and a very strange thought went through his head. Was it possible that he was still in the race? And that this, and everything that had happened before, from reaching the finish line to this moment, was really happening
inside
one of the blue screens?
But how could that be? He’d gone through three screens—just as the race procedures called for. But what if the second screen actually incorporated into its madness a scenario where he
thought
he punched out, and then punched back in again and then, maybe…
Stop
! he heard a voice cry from somewhere deep inside his head.
You’re making yourself crazy
.
He opened his eyes and looked at his hands, and at that moment he knew that all this was happening.
This was real.
Wasn’t it
?
The Empress was coming toward him again. Her eyes were locked onto his. She began dancing even closer. Time seemed to jump ahead several minutes. The other partygoers were suddenly becoming extremely intimate with each other. Many of the women were now topless. Hunter began to sweat. He drained his drink, making the situation worse—or better. His goblet was instantly filled again.
The Empress was dancing so close to him now, she was rubbing against his chest. Hunter closed his eyes. The music began pulsating very slowly.
What was the penalty for cavorting with the Emperor’s wife? he wondered.
The music got louder. He felt her body start to grind into his. He’d been stuck on Fools 6 a very long time—but not long enough to forget the necessities of life.
Her hands on him now.
“Well, is this better than the desert?” she asked him.
Oh, yeah, I remember this
, he thought.
He reached out for her.
Flash
!
***
“I said: ‘Is this better than the desert?’ ”
When Hunter opened his eyes again, he was sitting on a flat, moss-covered rock, high atop a soaring cliff, looking out over the ocean. The sun was right in front of him. And it was setting—over the water.
This could mean only one thing: He was still on Venus, but most likely on the opposite side of Zros.
The pop-in had been so sudden, his hand was still moist from holding his wine goblet. Someone was sitting beside him—a female, but not the Empress. This person was dressed in a nonprovocative white gown. Her hair was brunette and styled long but conservatively. She was wearing no makeup, she had no glow. There was no aura around her, at least not one that he could see.
Yet despite this, she was much more beautiful than the Empress. Or any of the women he’d just seen at La-Shangri. And she was a lot younger, too.
Hunter recognized her right away.
It was Princess Xara.
She smiled. “You didn’t really want to stay there, did you?”
Hunter began fumbling for a suitable reply. “Well, I thought that maybe your mo—”
Xara just shook her head. “My mother was trying to entrap you. And La-Shangri? Please. Half the people are dead in that place.”
She spread her arms to indicate the beautiful landscape around them. The flower-covered cliffs, the green seas crashing below. The sun, still bright, going down. The sweet breeze. It was stunning. And natural.
“Isn’t this place a lot better?”
Hunter had to agree with her. “It is.”
She smiled. He saw lots of teeth.
“But why did you bring me here?” he asked her directly.
“Do I have to have a reason?” she replied. Her gown went up a bit, showing her well-shaped legs.
“Yes, you do, because I don’t think anyone in your family does
anything
without a reason.”
She placed her hand in his. One thing about the Specials, Hunter mused, they weren’t afraid to get touchy-feely.
“Okay, you’re right,” she said. “And I confess. Ever since I saw you at the race today, I wanted to talk to you—and I wanted to do it someplace where we could be alone. Really alone.”
Hunter looked around. He could see nothing but forests and beaches and sand and water for many miles.
No châteaus. No palaces. No enormous bodyguards.
“I think you picked the right place,” he told her.
“Of course, I’m not sure you want to discuss what I have in mind,” she said.
“And that means?”
She slid a bit closer to him.
“I’ll be up front with you: I know the circumstances by which you were found. I know what happened during the attack on the
BonoVox
. I know that you can’t remember who you are. Or where you came from. Is that correct?”
Hunter nodded uncertainly. “Well, no one has really asked me about any of those things since I’ve been here on Earth,” he replied. “So I’ve kept my mouth shut about them.”
“Another art that we lost as a race sometime ago,” she said. “The art of holding one’s tongue.”
Hunter looked deep into her eyes. There really was something very different in there.
“I’m embarrassed to tell you that I’m probably the smartest one in my immediate family,” she said, her lips hovering somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “I don’t know why—it’s my burden to bear, I suppose. But I care deeply about things. Things I consider important, and not just ‘interesting,’ or ‘sacred,’ or reveling in self-gratification—”
She caught herself, and put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh, my,” she said with a gasp. “I must sound like the biggest snoot!”
Hunter squeezed her hand. If possible, she was getting more beautiful by the moment. Her eyes, her mouth, her cheeks—they all seemed just a bit bigger than what would be considered “perfect.”
And when she smiled…
Suddenly there was no other place in the Galaxy he wanted to be.
“I don’t think you’re a ‘snoot’ at all,” he told her. “In fact, you’re the most interesting person I’ve ran into since landing here. Well, the most interesting female, anyway…”
She tilted her head slightly. “Is there a compliment in there somewhere?”
They laughed. “Well, maybe,” he said. “But tell me, what are these things you care so much about?”
She looked very pleased to answer that question.
“I care about history, for one,” she declared. “I think it’s important to know what went on before—well, before
all this
…”
She waved her hand across the sky. The sun had not set, yet many stars were already twinkling above them.
“I mean, my father is the leader of the Fourth Empire,” she went on very earnestly. “There have been three empires before us. And yet what we know about them wouldn’t fill a single nanodisk. There are some things left over from the Second Empire, and apparently traces from the Third. But we know just about nothing about the First Empire—or anything that happened before it.”
She looked over at him.
“Am I boring you yet?” she asked.
Smile. Teeth.
“Impossible,” he replied.
She laughed sweetly and went on. “What bothers me most is that my family, the Specials and the Very Fortunates, they’re all so quick to take credit for all of this. But the truth is, they stumbled upon it. They didn’t invent any of it—it invented them. Yet they feel it’s their duty to exploit it, to take advantage of any chance they get.”
“Your father must care about the Empire, though,” Hunter told her, wondering which one of the Emperor’s three incarnations would actually be considered her father.
“Frankly, I’m not sure anyone can tell,” she replied slowly. “Don’t get me wrong—my family, the military, the Very Fortunates—they
all
care about the Empire. They care about
keeping
it going. How to make it bigger, better, no matter what the cost. Now, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I just think we should learn as much as we can about the past so—”
“So we can avoid the same mistakes in the future,” Hunter finished for her.
She looked up at him. Her face was a mixture of surprise and delight. “So you actually understand what I’m talking about?”
Hunter had to think a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, I believe I do.”
She gave him a very spontaneous hug, then let go and fiddled with her hair a moment. A warm wind blew by them. More stars had come out above.
“I actually envy you in a way,” she told him. “You know, you’re in a very unique position here. Not being like us…”
“How so?”
She looked out at the sea. The sun dipped lower into the water.
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we are a Galaxy full of obsessive behavior,” she said. “Everyone needs whatever they can get, as fast as they can get it. Sure, there is wealth beyond comprehension. But whether you’re my first-first cousin, or some space pirate robbing old bag planets out on the Fringe, everyone wants a piece. And they want it now. And if they can’t get it, they’ll drive themselves nuts
trying
to get it. It’s not the best way to be… at least I don’t think so.”
She fiddled with her hair again. Hunter could have sat here and talked to her for days.
“And our biggest obsession, of course, is this thing where
everyone
is an expert on their family ancestry,” she went on. “They know their bloodlines, their origins. Who married who, on what planet, and when.
Everyone must keep track of who they are, or they just go batty.”
“Is knowing where you came from such a bad thing?” he asked her. “I wish
I
knew…”
“Yes, but that’s my point: You want to know
who
you are—they want to know
what
they are—”
Hunter shook his head. “And that means?”
She sighed. “No one has told you about the Holy Blood, I suppose?”
“Nope.”
She slid even closer to him.
“My family, the Specials, are the descendants of the people who ruled the Galaxy in the Third Empire,” she began. “That dynasty collapsed about eight hundred years ago. We know very little about those people. Only that they were called the Specials, too—and that at one time they had control over every planet in the Galaxy. Billions? Trillions? Whatever the number is, every last one of them was under their control.
“For whatever reason, no one is sure why, these people had blood pumping in their veins that allowed them to live for very long periods of time. I’m talking about five, six, even seven hundred years or more.
As a direct descendant, that blood is my blood, too. As well as that of thousands and thousands of my relatives. My father is nearly four hundred and fifty years old; my mother admits to two hundred and seventy-five.”