Authors: Mack Maloney
This much was true. All of the Solar System's planets had been puffed—made inhabitable—Saturn included. In fact, many of the SG's administrative sections were located on the pleasantly fair, yellow and blue surface of the gigantic ringed planet. But as for the planet's many moons, Hunter had to admit he hadn't heard much about any of them since finding himself here in the seventy-third century.
"Because of the knowledge this man possesses," Erikk concluded, "he could very well know how to thwart this devious undertaking by the SSG. The trouble might be getting him to do it, because, as we have learned, he is a very unusual person.
"But in any case, we think someone should go down there and try to find him…"
All eyes in the room turned to Hunter. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"And I guess," he said, "that would be me?"
The spy was the first to reply. "You're a victim of your own success, Major Hunter," he said simply. "Can you think of anyone else who could save the Galaxy, single-handedly?"
Hunter imagined he could see the spy smiling beneath his hat. But the man had a point. While any number of the
UPF guys or Star Legionnaires were bold enough, brave enough to go on such a high-risk mission, Hunter had to admit he was the veteran go-to guy for such things. He'd been on hundreds of special missions in his life, or so it seemed. And this time the cause definitely seemed worthy—if this wasn't all just a bad dream, that is.
"Let's say I agree to do this," he finally told them. "Exactly how am I getting where I'm supposed to go?"
It was another good question. Obviously the moons of Saturn were deep within territory controlled by the Solar Guards. And while it might have been possible for him to bust through the
SG
lines with his fabulous Flying Machine, without it, he really was just an ordinary man.
How could an ordinary man move hundreds of light-years into enemy territory without being detected?
He was about to find out.
The spy turned to Erikk and the others. "With your permission?" he asked.
In the next instant, there was a flash.
A second later, a large wooden box was sitting in the middle of the room. It was green and red, about the size of an ancient phone booth, with wires and hoses running all over it.
It was called a DATT, for deatomizing transfer tube.
Hunter took one look at it—and let out a long groan. Suddenly he wished he was back in the badlands.
"I feel obliged to explain this thing to you," the spy told him.
But Hunter didn't need any explanation of this contraption. He knew what a DATT was. It was an ancient form of transportation that used deatomization as the means of travel. The traveler is broken down into individual sub-atoms and sent, by superstrings' vibrations, to his intended destination. It sounded cool, but Hunter knew it was a very dangerous way to travel the cosmos, even when it was considered a new technology, thousands of years ago.
"God, I'd rather walk than go in this thing," Hunter said.
"I would, too," the spy admitted. "But it's the only way I can figure you can get where you've got to go without the SG knowing about it. Consider this: the SG is scanning any ship, back to front, that even approaches the One Arm. They're even scanning their own ships, that's how paranoid they are. So, travel by space vessel is out. You'd never make it within a hundred light-years of the One Arm. The SG can also detect flash transfers anywhere in the Galaxy. And they can detect beam transport technology, too. But the DATT method is so old, they don't even have it on their list of scanning objectives. Indeed, I would guess many of them don't even know it still exists. Besides, you have to get very deep behind enemy lines and do so very quickly. So there really is no other way."
Not many things concerned Hunter about his well-being. He was too lucky to worry about death. However, the thought of traveling by DATT was unnerving. He just shook his head slowly. If only he had his damn Flying Machine! He'd be able to break through the Pluto Cloud and any other obstacle the SG put in his way simply by going fast. And at least he'd have a better chance of making it in one piece.
"Can I ask something?" he said to all of them now, with some exasperation. "How come our big bad spy here isn't going on this mission?"
It was a good question. Imperial spies had access to just about anywhere. Why wasn't he going after the creator of the dizzylando?
The spy didn't hesitate a moment to reply. "Do you really think if I found this guy, that he would come with me?" he asked. "An Imperial spy? I'm as much his enemy as I am yours."
There was a round of somber nodding in the room. Even Hunter had to agree with the spy's logic.
"I wish there was another way," he told Hunter directly. "And believe me, I have no desire to be found conspiring with you against the SSG. But time is not a luxury we have right now, because as your friends already know, there is another shoe to drop here."
"And that is?" Hunter asked, not quite sure he wanted to know.
The spy replied, "I'm sorry to say that in addition to their manipulation of the Big Generator, the SSG is planning to attack this very planet with a very unusual secret weapon, as soon as they think the BG is under their control."
Hunter just stared back at him. He thought he detected a bit of quavering in the spy's usually resonant voice.
"
This
planet?" he asked. "Why?"
"Because they
know
…" the spy replied after a dramatic pause. "They
know
your friends from the Third Empire are out here. They
know
the UPF fleet is out here, too. And they know neither one has ships run by prop cores. Don't you see? If they get control of the Big Generator, the very first thing they have to do is wipe out all of you. You'll be the only real organized force that could stand in their way, even though, as has been established, not for very long.
"So time
is
very short here. And you certainly can't waste it down there, in the dizzylando. The SSG will eventually muck up the Big Generator to a point where they will either have it doing their bidding, or it will be wrecked forever. That is why haste must now be your friend."
Hunter just slumped further into his seat. There was an air of grim inevitability in the room.
Hawk Hunter Saves the Galaxy
? The spy was right; who else was up to do the job? Who else had the experience? He, on the other hand, was in the hero business. That's why he was here.
He looked at the DATT, then over the at the TV set. "Would you go if you were me?"
The Astronaut nodded slowly. "I would have to. And so do you, I'm afraid."
Hunter thought another few moments, weighing the pros and cons—not that there were many pros. Then he thought about Xara and what she would think of all this. She would not want him to go, but at the same time, he knew that he should. That was enough to convince him.
"OK, I'll do it," he said. "Even if this is a bad dream, it beats trudging through the badlands. I think…"
"Then we must move fast," the spy said. "Already I'm sure people are beginning to wonder where I am all this time."
He asked Hunter for his quadtrol. The pilot passed the handheld device over* his shoulder. The spy began punching information into it, his fingers moving with lightning-quick speed. He handed the device back to Hunter after just a few seconds.
"Once you get down to your destination, you'll have to locate the ticket booths. This information will help you find them."
'Ticket booths?" Hunter asked. "You've got to be kidding me."
"It will all make sense once you're on the ground, so to speak," the spy said. "Just follow the instructions on your quadtrol."
"Anything else?" Hunter asked him.
The spy reached inside his coat and came out with a small white capsule. It was a Twenty 'n Six, a device that could hold large objects in the twenty-sixth dimension until the owner recalled them for use. Items almost as large as a Starcrasher could be stored via the bizarre little devices. Hunter had carried his precious Flying Machine around in one many times.
"There is no sense in denying this DATT is very old," the spy explained. "It might be good only for a one way trip. Or you might not be able to make it back to it once your mission is complete. If that's the case, then activate this Twenty 'n Six. You'll find a lifeboat of sorts inside. But only use it in an emergency. And there's no guarantee it will work, either."
Hunter numbly took the capsule from him. He was more concerned about his means of getting to the first dizzylando moon than he was about getting back.
"Anything
else
?" he asked the spy again, this time in a mocking tone.
"Just to wish you good luck, Major," he said. "A lot is riding on this. Just please stay smart down there, no matter what the temptation. And, whatever you do, please
hurry"
With that, the spy glided to a darkened comer of the room and melded with the shadows.
Hunter looked down at the TV screen to see the Ancient Astronaut looking back at him, a finger pressed to his space mask where his lips would be. Suddenly everything in the room froze. The officers, the spy, the ticking of the grandfather clock. Incredibly, the Astronaut had temporarily stopped time, another trick of the Third Empire. It was the only way he and Hunter could talk privately.
It was fascinating, if just a bit creepy.
"Was this necessary for my last-minute pep talk?" Hunter asked the image.
"If you needed a pep talk, I wouldn't let you go," the Astronaut replied. "Just some last-minute details your friend in black might not be privy to… and I don't want our guys to know either, in case they ever get brain scanned."
"Lay them on me," Hunter said, anxious again. The sooner he got going, the sooner this whole episode would be over with.
The Astronaut told him, "Your first destination will be the Alpha Moon. Those are the coordinates he put inside your quadtrol. And like he said, once you're down, you'll have to locate the ticket booth. It's the entrance to the dizzylando. It will bring you to the first attraction. You'll need a password to activate your entry. Use these two words: Sky Ghost."
Hunter stared back at him.
Sky Ghost
? Why did that seem so familiar?
The Astronaut went on, "You'll probably have to ride every attraction until you can find out more about the guy we are seeking. But you should know this will not be like simply visiting a bunch of typical moons with things built on them. These places are very, very strange. Their design came from the mind of a very unusual person. Remember, back in their day, these amusement parks were meant to take people to places beyond their imagination. To scare them. To make them laugh, even if they wanted to cry from fright. That's what's
really
going on down there—Multiplied several million times."
"You mean like a mind ring trip?" Hunter asked.
The old man laughed. "A mind ring trip is like a drop in the ocean compared to what this man created. These places exist in another state of mind. Based on his beliefs, his desires, his dreams. His designs. And because they were built with the same technology as terra-forming,
elaborate
doesn't even scratch the surface of what they are all about. He'll try to get into your head, that is if he is still the same person I remember. And it will be useless to ask for him, or to ask anyone about him, until you get to the end of each ride, so to speak. I mean, there's a reason no one has ventured into this place for more than a thousand years. It's not considered holy like Luna, or off limits, like Mars. It's just too weird, too scary—which of course is the whole point of a dizzylando. Or at least it's what
he
thought one should be like. Just be aware that some surprises may be awaiting you down there."
The Astronaut sipped his Tang martini.
"Just go with the flow. Be discreet. Eventually you'll find him—if he doesn't find you first. But have respect for any people you might meet along the way be they real or not. You're entering into their existence now, whatever that existence might be. It will probably seem crazy to you, but it is very real to them."
"You know a lot about this place," Hunter said. "Almost like you've been there before."
The Astronaut laughed. "I don't have to have been there
to know what it is like. As I said, this particular person had a very weird sense of humor. Although, that was the least of his problems or his attributes, depending on your point of view."
"Please explain," Hunter asked him.
The Astronaut sipped his Tang martini again and thought for a few moments. "Let me put it this way," he said. "The man you are seeking is indeed a bit of an enigma. A riddle. A mystery. He could be your greatest friend or your worst enemy. He's cultured, yet he's also a brute. He loves to drink, but he's God-fearing. He's an intellectual, but he wouldn't hesitate a moment to change history to suit his purposes. Or to fuel his amusement. He could be a cold-blooded killer. But in a way, he's just a big softy, too. He has this thing about him where he wants every story to have a happy ending, every dream to come true. But most of all, he was very jealous of the way we used to live—you and I and the rest of the people back in twentieth-century America, so long ago."
Hunter took it all in and thought he'd arrived at some kind of profile of his quarry.
"So, he's a madman then," he told the Astronaut.
The Ancient Astronaut paused another moment, and then shook his head no.
"A madman? Well, not exactly," he replied. "Actually, he's a Russian."
Two minutes later, Hunter was gone.
The DATT shimmered brightly as soon as he'd stepped in and activated its balky controls. It then began shuddering madly as it seemed to resist fading out as it was supposed to.
When it finally left, it did so with a mighty bang and a brilliant and disturbing flash of light, leaving behind a cloud containing a very nasty stench that smelled a little too much like burned hair and bone.