Doomsday Warrior 18 - American Dream Machine (23 page)

For a terrifying instant just before he went to sleep, Rockson thought that he heard one of the other-dimensional invader-worms roaring far out in the wilderness. But then he decided it was just his imagination, and the ship rocked him to sleep . . .

The next day, he was groggy, even though he woke up long after dawn. After making a pit stop at a simple hole-in-the-flooring bathroom, he splashed some water from a basin on his face. Then went up on deck, which was bathed in sunlight. Squinting in the too-bright winter sun, he was then handed some strange wraparound glasses by Archer, who was already sitting on a long plastic bench, eating breakfast with the little people. The Glowers were up on the rigging, or down in the depths of the ship, or at the great steering wheel, tending to their tasks. They didn’t eat breakfast. Not this kind of breakfast. Rock sat down and gaped at the repast. “God, where’d they get this pile of scrambled eggs and toast and bacon and—?”

“
Don’t
ask,” Zydeco said, spooning a piece of bacon carefully into his mouth, “I asked, and it sorta spoiled my appetite.”

Rockson nodded, and ate heartily. And then, as he and a burping, farting Archer made their way up to the prow of the craft, stretching and yawning, he
had
to ask.

“Okay Arch, where
do
the Glowers get this food?”

“Reprocessed shit,” Archer said, smiling. “Good!”

Rockson squelched down his gagging feeling and nodded. “OK, thanks for the info.” He felt as green as Zydeco had looked for a while. But what the hell, he tried to tell himself, all nature is a series of reprocessing steps—fertilizer raises grass, the hay eaten by cattle making their meat, which we turn into food . . . He thought like that until his stomach stopped quaking.

They continued their smooth, uneventful, beautiful journey toward Century City.

“Boy,” he said to Archer, “see those cliffs over there? That’s the Outer Buttes—three hundred snowy miles to go! Man, I’ve never seen snow of this depth in Colorado. Hey Archer, wait till the guys back home see this thing coming. The portal guards, especially old Gabby, will shit in their pants.”

“WILL SHOOT AT US?” Archer asked with some concern.

Rockson laughed. “No, we thought of that! They won’t shoot. I will inform Jarrety and the other receiver mutants in C.C. by telepathy that we’re coming, once we get within ten miles.”

Archer smiled, “Like Glowers?”

“You got it Arch!” He was, of course, referring to telepathic messages that Rockson—a star-mutant—would send to the three other trained star-mutants in the city, messages that would gently tip the city masters off to expect Rockson to arrive soon—in a strange conveyance! Of course, the Glowers could reach the three telepaths in Century City right from here—but Rock had advised them that their loud and strange mind-links would upset the star-paths of C.C. That’s what Jarrety and the others were called. No, that wouldn’t do. Instead, once the ship was closing on the city’s secret location, Rockson would speak softly into their minds, while they slept perhaps. And all would be well. Not that C.C.’s weapons could do much damage to this baby!

As the sun rose higher and higher and rivulets of melting snow began to form in the dunes below them, threatening early floods, they glided over the torn landscape at a speed that was now truly breathtaking.

The Rocky Mountains came out of the mists looking like white monuments, half covering the sky. Rockson, upon seeing Carson Mountain gleaming in the sunlight, felt a tugging at his heart that every member of Century City’s population did upon seeing home after a long journey.

Thirty-One

T
hrough his electro-binocs Rockson scanned the mountainside as the ship glided to a halt a half mile short of the entrance. A thousand or more people, colorfully dressed in winter parkas denoting their job status in the city, were shouting and waving. And there was firing of many-colored flares.

Rockson had managed a solid contact telepathically and all had been apprised of his coming in the great Glower craft. They were welcomed wildly! Turquoise said, “WHILE THE OTHER STAY ABOARD, I WILL GO WITH YOU, ROCKSON, TO ADDRESS THE ASSEMBLY OF THE COUNCIL AND ELDERS OF THE CITY.”

Kim
and
Rona were there to greet Rock. The women each hugged him. Then Rockson—and with some greater difficulty, Archer—was carried aloft back to the city in triumph. Each woman had whispered in Rock’s inflamed ears that they had settled their jealous differences while he was away, and that they would see him later in his bedchamber!

People made a wide swath for Turquoise, who walked solemnly and steadily onto the wide entrance ramp. “Say something Rock,” someone yelled.

“It’s
so
good to be back home!” Rock said, and they all cheered. “But there are words that my friend Turquoise Spectrum must speak. I do not know what he will say, except that he says they are urgent words.” In the council chamber, Rockson said, “I turn the podium over to the distinguished representative of the Glowers.”

The strange inside-out being came up to the podium as Rockson left. The Glower leader was
imposing.
People were uneasy and restive, curious perhaps, but not awed; more afraid and confused.

Until he began speaking directly into each mind. That sobered them up plenty fast!

“PEOPLE OF CENTURY CITY, I SPEAK TO YOU ON A GRAVE MATTER OF CONCERN TO ALL. THE GREATEST ENEMY OF LIFE FORMS ON THIS PLANET, A MAN WHOM YOU ALL BELIEVE TO BE DEAD, IS NOT DEAD. I SPEAK OF KLLLOV, MASTER OF DEATH. HE SURVIVED THE TIDAL WAVE UNLEASHED BY YOUR BRAVE FIGHTERS AND IS GATHERING STRENGTH RIGHT NOW. SOON WILL COME A CHALLENGE TO THE VERY SURVIVAL OF THE ENTIRE WORLD. WE GLOWERS CANNOT HELP YOU MEET THIS CHALLENGE. IT IS NOT IN OUR CAPACITY, YET WE CAN WARN YOU. ONLY ONE BEING IS CAPABLE OF CHALLENGING THE FORCE OF DARKNESS AND THAT IS ROCKSON. DESTINY HAS CHOSEN HIM FOR THIS TASK. PRAY THAT HE IS UP TO IT. I HEAR MANY QUESTIONS IN YOUR MINDS. THERE IS NOT TIME FOR QUESTIONS. THIS IS ALL I HAVE TO SAY, ALL I CAN SAY ON THIS MATTER. NOW I SHALL LEAVE.”

Thus ended the first address of an alien being to the council.

Just Rockson and Zydeco and Archer walked the Glower leader up the green-lit ramp to the western entrance to the city. As the doors opened to the twilit sky, Turquoise took off the shoulder pack he carried, full of supplies he had asked for at Century City, and set it down. He opened it up and lifted out a set of wire coat hangers and a box of aluminum foil. He held them forth to Rockson and said, “THIS IS MY GIFT TO YOU. TAKE IT. I CANNOT STATE THIS TOO STRONGLY,” Turquoise added. “NEVER BE WITHOUT THESE NEARBY.”

Rockson couldn’t believe it. Why was the Glower handing him such mundane objects? Were they really what they seemed? But he graciously stepped forward and took the offered things. “Thank you,” he said, rather perplexed, “but—”

“YOU WILL HAVE NEED OF THESE THINGS, ROCKSON. NEVER BE WITHOUT THEM,” Turquoise repeated solemnly.

Rockson examined the objects. One hand held a few dozen wire coat hangers, the kind that come back from the dry-cleaners in B-section of Century City. The C.C. brand aluminum foil was just that—the kind you use to wrap leftovers in. “I don’t understand . . . why should I need—?”

“NEVER BE WITHOUT THEM,” repeated the Turquoise Spectrum. “WHEN YOU NEED THEM, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND.” He turned slightly and gauged the breeze coming in the open doorway. “THE WEATHER IS WARMING. I MUST LEAVE YOU NOW, FRIENDS. MY SHIP MUST REACH HOME BEFORE THE SNOWS ARE UTTERLY GONE, ELSE THE OTHER-DIMENSIONAL WORMS ARE A THREAT TO THE UNARMED SHIP. GOOD-BYE FRIENDS. GOOD LUCK, AS YOU SAY. BUT I SAY MUCH HAS ALREADY BEEN DETERMINED,
SO MAY IT BEND YOUR WAY.”

Rockson felt a tug in his heart. Of course they could never touch, but Rock almost wanted to run to the being and give him a big hug and squeeze. His inside-out, palpitating, blue-glowing friend had saved his life, taken him on such wonderful journeys, mental and spiritual. But that hug, sadly, could not be. So instead Rockson nodded and with great emotion shaking his words, simply said, “Good-bye.”

Turquoise turned, strode into the entranceway winds, and stood there, and then he turned, silhouetted in the first glimmer of stars, and raised his right-hand palm so that it was facing them. Out of that upraised palm came a blue glow, a swirling spiral pattern. “GOOD-BYE AND ETERNAL FAREWELL, ROCKSON, ZYDECO, ARCHER . . . I WILL NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN ON THIS PLANE OF EXISTENCE.”

The swirling pattern in his hand shot forth, then divided into three rays that shot outward from the palm toward each of the humans. When the ray hit Rockson, a gentle, soft pleasure spread in his mind like menthol hitting a sore throat. It faded slowly and when Rockson again brought his attention to the entranceway, Turquoise was
gone.

The humans went outside and watched as Turquoise, already down the slope and across the half mile of snow between the mountain and his ice-crystal ship, climbed up the strange, pinkish rigging. Then they saw the triple sails being hauled into place and starting to catch the etheral winds. The flickering Milky Way’s light seemed to catch and blossom in the sails. They watched in awe and sadness as silently the Glowers’ ship sailed off into the swirling snow mists, heading northeast.

As the ship faded from sight in the vast loneliness, Rockson and his friends turned and walked back down the ramp toward the lights and sounds of Century City, Rockson carrying his bizarre gifts.

Rockson was especially quiet for the rest of the night, and retired to his room to stare at the ceiling.

I must save the world? I’m getting old, too old for this. I don’t know if I can fight off Killov again. The man just won’t die. He is the devil himself to have survived the tidal wave I unleashed on him in Africa!!

There was a gentle rapping on the door. Rockson pulled himself back from his thoughts, crushed out his cigarette. Would it be Rona or Kim?

He opened it up. It was
both
of them. They were wearing just the briefest of negligees. The tall, brassy red-headed goddess
and
the pert and lovely, petite, blue-eyed blond. He started to say something, but both females said,
“Shhhh.”

And then, giggling like schoolgirls, they pushed him gently back toward his bed.

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