Deadly Mission Page 2

  “Diesel, set your language controls to frequency 08.12.77.”

  Diesel nodded and they glanced at each other as they heard the message in English for the first time. “Entering Xion space without permission is an act of war. This is your only warning. Follow us to the tollbooth or be vaporized.”

  “Any idea how we deal with the toll takers?” Peri asked as he followed the Xion fighter jets.

  Otto licked the sweat from his neck with his long tongue. “It doesn’t matter! When they find me on board, we’ll be obliterated before you can say, ‘Death to Xion!’”

  Peri frowned. He wondered why the Xions and Meigwors hated each other so much. “Otto, you’d better hide.”

  “Cowards hide!” Otto snapped. “Warriors lie in wait!”

  “Well, go lie in wait, then,” Peri said.

  Otto skulked off the bridge.

  “What a lamizoid!” Diesel said as he sat down next to Peri. Almost instantly, he sprang out of the chair again. “Yuck! Meigwor sweat!” He wiped his hand against his pants. “The sooner we get him off our ship the better. Look,” he said, twisting around to show Peri the smoking holes in his Expedition Wear pants.

  “Get your pants out of my face,” Peri said. “I need to concentrate.”

  The Xion fighter jets guided them to the space highway’s only ramp. A new message flashed on the monitor. “Get in line, or be disintegrated.”

  Its bluntness made Peri realize how unfriendly the Xions were, but he already knew that. They hadn’t given the IF Space Station a warning before they blew it to smithereens! His hands gripped the Nav-wheel tighter. He was going to stop these bullies if it was the last thing he ever did.

  But, for now, he had a mission to complete.

  Peri parked the Phoenix behind a ship surrounded by huge translucent sheets of solar-cloth. It looked like a floating angel.

  “It’s beautiful,” whispered Peri.

  Suddenly, the angel’s wings unfurled like old-fashioned sails. The ship slid gracefully forward. A thick purple beam of light blazed from the toll taker as it scanned every micro-particle of the craft.

  An electric jolt of fear passed through Peri. “Diesel, what do we do if the scan detects Otto?”

  “I guess we could say he’s a stowaway and hand him over,” Diesel replied. “Only a cosmic wastoid couldn’t notice something that big, ugly, hot, and sweaty.”

  “That’s it!” Peri exclaimed, his mind tingling with excitement. “He’s hot and sweaty. They’re scanning for heat signatures. If the Phoenix is cold enough, it’ll hide Otto’s body heat.”

  “Oh, sure, freeze us to death to save our Meigwor tour guide,” Diesel scoffed.

  Peri spun the thermo-dial to cool the ship, and an icy blast of air surrounded them. But their teeth barely had time to chatter before their Expedition Wear turned red and started to warm them up.

  “You see, not a problem,” Peri stated. “I love this ship.”

  The vessel ahead of them entered the space-highway ramp, and the Phoenix glided to a stop behind a barricade of pulsing red light. An announcement from the toll taker interrupted him: “Prepare to be inspected. Approach slowly.”

  The Nav-wheel was slippery with ice, but Peri guided the Phoenix toward the striped guard pod with expert skill.

  Durrr-ing! The com-screen rose from the console and flashed into life. A Xion appeared. He wore a bright-blue uniform, braided with pink, and a scarlet cap.

  “This is Toll Taker Xerallon.” A beam of purple light pulsed through the bridge. “The following fines have been added to your toll: crossing the Cos-Moat without permission, not using proper drawbridge protocol, and endangering local wildlife. State your name and your reasons for visiting Xion.”

  Peri gulped. He could have kicked himself. He should have thought of a cover story. “I … I …,” he spluttered.

  “Peace in Space, Toll Taker Xerallon,” Diesel said. “We apologize for our rude behavior. We’re astro-nomads. We need extra fuel as well as repairs to our Nav-system. My pilot is quite useless without a navigation computer telling him where to go. Last week, he almost flew us into a moon. We were lucky to crash into your lovely Cos-Moat.”

  The screen was icing up, but Peri could see the toll taker nod. “Your ship’s certainly a relic from a technology-stunted solar system. I’m surprised that junk can fly.”

  Peri wanted to glare at the toll taker. His ship wasn’t junk. His parents had helped make the Phoenix better than anything in the universe. But arguing would only endanger the mission, so he kept quiet.

  “Yes, you’re right, of course,” Diesel told the guard. “It’s almost embarrassing to fly—practically useless.”

  Peri was impressed. Diesel was cool under pressure. It must have been his upbringing as the emperor’s son—he knew exactly how to deal with the toll taker.

  “Access granted,” said the toll taker. “Please beam over payment.”

  “Payment?” Peri whispered to Diesel. “What are we … ?”

  “Certainly, officer,” said Diesel, cutting Peri off. “How would you like your payment?”

  “Our scanners have already picked items of value.”

  Peri held his breath, worried about what the Xions wanted to take. White ice crystals had formed over the screen. When he scraped them away and saw the InfoBox, he almost laughed.

  IDENTIFIED: plastic storage devices and rich organic fertilizer.

  “Peri,” Diesel whispered. “What’s ‘rich organic fertilizer’?”

  “Umm …” Peri paused. “I think they want plastic recycling bins and the contents of our space-toilets.”

  Diesel’s band of hair went limp and turned green. He cupped a hand over his mouth. “You mean … they want our … ? Yuck!”

  “Thank you, officer,” Peri told the toll taker. “Beam away.”

  A light flashed to confirm the toll had been taken, and the barrier blocking the ramp onto the space highway vanished. On the com-screen Peri noticed another uniformed toll taker rush into the booth. The official whispered something into the other toll taker’s ear. Both glared at the Phoenix.

  This can’t be good, thought Peri. He activated the main engines. “Let’s get out of here,” Peri shouted to Diesel as he roared the Phoenix down the nearest lane of the space highway.

  Chapter 4

  The silver-and-purple astrophalt shimmered as the space highway twisted and stretched around the orange-and-blue planet below. If it weren’t for their mission to rescue the kidnapped prince, Peri could have raced along the shifting astrophalt all day. It was just like playing a 3-D game, except that the web of ice crystals over the 360-monitor made it harder to see where he was going. The lane ahead looked clear, so Peri pulled the throttle to maximum.

  “Next stop, Xion!” he shouted as the Phoenix burst forward.

  The com-unit crackled into life with the sound of chattering teeth. “Will you … space-monkeys … turn up the … hea-hea-heating,” the Meigwor stuttered. “I’m f-f-f-f-free-eezing down here.”

  Blue tears trickled down Diesel’s cheeks all over the gunnery station as he shook with laughter.

  “Sorry, Otto,” Peri replied, trying to ignore Diesel. He spun the thermo-dial back and saw his Expedition Wear change color again.

  Outside, an asteroid-size superneon sign pointed to a way station. Behind the sign, an enormous transparent dome floated in the air. An instant translation appeared on screen.

  “‘Food! Souvenirs! Lizard wrestling!’I wish we had time to check that out,” Peri said.

  Shhhhuurpt. The door to the bridge opened as Otto shuffled in.

  Diesel leaned over and whispered, “Is it me or has he shrunk?”

  Peri glanced over his shoulder. Otto’s arms and neck did seem shorter.

  “Cloak the ship!” Otto pushed Peri aside and stabbed at the control panel. A map of the space highway appeared on the monitor. “Exit 1427-A7!”

  Peri activated the cloak and navigated to the exit ramp. The astrophalt end
ed abruptly above a pulsing blue vortex big enough only for a single vessel.

  “Local transport vortex detected,” the ship announced. “Hold tight.”

  Before Peri could ask if they needed superluminal speed, the vortex spat the Phoenix out. They were hovering over a barren landscape. Small twisters of orange dust scoured the pockmarked ground. InfoBoxes popped up on the monitor, arrows scattered everywhere: Collapsed CO2 mine, toxic waterhole, mining-lice infestation.

  Peri stared at the swirling pools of putrid green and snotty-brown liquid. “No wonder they don’t respect anyone else’s planet. Look at those poisonous swamps.”

  “Ignore them!” Otto said. “Aim for the smog.”

  Peri steered the Phoenix over a huge crater filled with machines spewing rocks into the air. He then headed for a skyline that appeared to be wrapped in smog. In the center of the smoking chimneys and the concrete-block industrial buildings stood a sprawling marble palace.

  “The Xion capital!” Otto said. “Depressing, isn’t it? The prince is in that palace. Head to that abandoned factory! We can land safely in there!”

  Peri guided the Phoenix into the hollow shell of the building that Otto had pointed to. He was careful to avoid the metal struts holding up the crumbling brick walls. A single knock would bring the whole building down.

  The rubble floor shifted under the ship’s weight, but the landing gear automatically adjusted. Peri looked around and realized why Otto had chosen the spot. The walls surrounding the Phoenix would keep it hidden from alien eyes.

  “Let’s go!” Otto ordered. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go get the prince.”

  “Wait a second.” Peri studied the blinking lights of the atmospheric sensors. “Diesel, adjust your oxy-modifiers to Carbon-4 Mode. Xion seems to be a carbon-rich planet.”

  Peri pressed a nano-dial surgically implanted between his ribs. It beeped four times. His lungs twitched as if he needed to cough, then they expanded in his chest.

  “What was that?!” Otto asked.

  “Every IF cadet has a hydrogen bubble in their lungs,” Diesel replied, coughing as his lungs adjusted. “The oxy-modifier allows us to breathe in any atmosphere in the universe.”

  “Otherwise we’d suffocate outside in about seven seconds,” Peri added.

  Otto shook his head in disbelief. “You’re so primitive!” he said. He led them down the mauve-lit corridor into the air-lock. “Come on, let’s go.”

  As they neared the end of the corridor, Peri noticed a small yellow button on the wall and stopped. He didn’t know what it did, but his fingers tingled to press it. As he did, the ship announced, “Planet name: Xion. Recommend: footwear adjustment for lighter gravity.”

  Robotic arms shot out of the walls, lifting him and Diesel into the air. Two more arms appeared. They peeled the thick magnetic soles off Peri’s space boots and clamped on new super-thin ones. The boots turned dusty orange.

  “Camouflaged too,” Peri said as the arms lowered him and Diesel.

  Otto was shaking with laughter. “I can’t believe what you have to go through just to go outside!”

  “At least we’ve created the technology to do it,” said Peri, bristling.

  “Yes!” said Otto, holding his belly. “But truly advanced species don’t need such tricks!”

  “What about you?” Peri asked. “You think a Meigwor can walk around unnoticed?”

  Otto tapped the lumps on his neck. “Watch!”

  He crossed his long arms behind his back, so that they were now on opposite sides of his body. They looked almost normal length. He yanked two rings from the side of his ammo belts. A cloak sprang from around his shoulders, hiding the extra length of his arms. He folded the collar up to cover his freakishly long, lumpy neck.

  “Amazing!” Diesel exclaimed, sarcastically. “I hadn’t realized you Meigwors were such masters of disguise.”

  Otto smiled. Peri shook his head and pressed the panel for the exit. The door swung open and hot sticky air blasted them. Peri’s and Diesel’s Expedition Wear turned blue to cool them, but it was still hot. The ramp appeared, and they followed Otto to the ground and through the abandoned factory.

  As they walked the streets of Xion, Peri realized that Otto’s disguise worked. It wasn’t a good disguise, but in the hazy light he went unnoticed. Luckily, the Xions appeared to look almost human but had webbed fingers and smelled of Saturnian squid.

  Peri whispered to Otto, “Why don’t they have pincher claws and antennae like the Xions who beamed aboard our ship?”

  “Shh,” Otto hissed back. “The Xions wear special battle suits to scare their enemies! Now follow me and keep quiet!”

  The enormous palace walls cast shadows over the many small shops selling everything from “organic fertilizer, fresh for eating!” to “live-grubs jewelry!” Peri felt sick. The creamy maggots squirming along the necklaces looked revolting.

  Thankfully, as they got closer to the palace, they left behind the traders cooking up foul brews, and the streets became deserted.

  The palace walls were covered with cameras and laser wires. Peri and Diesel stopped. The palace gates were huge and made from twisted bits of ships, carefully molded into decorative swirls. In among alien names, Peri noticed the names of ships from the IF fleet lost on deep-space missions: IFSS Blade, IFSS Grace. Despite the humid heat, even his circuits felt cold with fear. If the Xions had defeated the pride of the IF fleet, what chance did he and Diesel have of avenging the Milky Way against such a terrible enemy?

  “Is Otto crazy?” Diesel asked. “Does he think he can just walk in?”

  Peri saw Otto marching up to the gates. There was a shout of “Stop or Die.”

  Out of the shadows beside the gates, four guards stepped out, pointing assault blasters straight at them.

  Oh no, thought Peri. Otto’s got us into deep cosmic-trouble.

  Chapter 5

  Peri couldn’t believe it. Otto kept walking even as the guards charged their assault blasters. It was like Otto was offering himself up to a firing squad.

  A guard raised a webbed hand to warn Otto back. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Stay behind Otto,” Diesel whispered to Peri. “If they shoot, they’ll hit him first.”

  Otto stopped beside the nearest guard, who looked as surprised as Peri was. What was the Meigwor up to?

  Otto pulled down his collar. Before the guards could react, Otto uttered a low, guttural sound. His neck bulged and twisted. He sounded a bit like a giant Martian wildcat purring, and it made the circuitry in Peri’s head buzz.

  Peri clamped his hands over his ears. It was a horrible noise. He wondered why Otto was doing it. But then he noticed that the guards had stopped moving. It was as if Otto had turned them to stone. Peri couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Diesel prodded one of the guards. “Cool, guard-cicles.”

  “Stop messing around!” Otto unhooked a communication device from a guard’s belt.

  Peri expected some sort of explanation from the bounty hunter. Instead, Otto pushed the gates open and walked into a huge courtyard of polished orange marble. Peri looked at Diesel, but the gunner just shrugged and followed Otto. Peri ran after them both.

  The courtyard was surrounded by a dozen buildings that dripped with gilding, statues, and ornate decorations. Otto made for the most imposing of the palace buildings. Above the palace’s massive wooden doors was the inscription: Respect the King or DIE PAINFULLY.

  Otto pulled Peri and Diesel to the side of the door. The Meigwor peered inside. “Listen, space-monkeys!” he said, turning to them. He was trying to whisper but his booming voice carried. “Xions can’t handle low-frequency noise! If we can break into their communications channels, we can frazzle their entire nervous systems! Watch this!”

  Peri and Diesel peeked around the door. A group of guards stood in the corridor. An officer was issuing orders. Otto raised the communications device to his neck and pressed a button to communicate on all channels. His
neck throbbed again and a deep noise rumbled from his throat. The officer seized up in midspeech, along with the other guards.

  Peri felt an electric shiver run through him. “You mean you’ve frozen everyone in the palace?”

  “Of course, how else can we get our hands on … I mean, rescue the prince?!”

  Peri smiled at the bounty hunter, but he felt a little uneasy about Otto’s ability. If he could do that to Xions, what could he do to humans and Martians?

  Otto led them through the ornately carved corridors. The walls and ceiling were covered in gold leaf. Holograms of Xion battle victories lined the walls, as well as empty suits of their fearsome black-shell battle armor. Peri couldn’t help imagining the suits’ bulging eye slits watching them.

  “Here we are!” Otto stopped them at an intersection. “According to my sources, the prince may be locked in a cellar!”

  What sources? Peri wondered, as Otto pulled off his cloak and uncrossed his arms. He stomped up and down the orange-tiled corridor until he heard a hollow thud. He traced the tile with his finger and levered a trapdoor open. A rancid smell of dampness and decay wafted up from the dark hole. It smelled worse than the farting swamps of Venus.

  “You two go down and rescue him!” Otto ordered them.

  “You’re not in charge,” Diesel sneered. “And he’s your prince. Why don’t you do it?”

  Otto shook his head. “I will search for the prince too, but I must stay up here in case the guards unfreeze! I will fight the Xions!”

  “Fine,” Diesel growled, seeing that Otto did have a point.

  Peri followed the gunner down the slime-covered rusting metal rungs.

  If only it was galactic glow-in-the-dark slime, thought Peri. This cellar’s darker than a black hole.

  Peri stepped off the ladder into something very soft and sticky. “Eeeew!”

  That explains the smell, he thought. His space boots glowed for an instant as they automatically burned away whatever he had stepped in. Expedition Wear rocked!