He did a quick check of all his vitals; everything was green. He checked his watch. It was ticking down to the moment the UPF fleet would attempt its crossover from the other side — the main reason for all this. He couldn't believe it. The time of return was now just sixty minutes away.
He felt a jolt of anxiety go through him; it was an emotion he'd rarely felt before. But everything the Ancient Astronaut had predicted would happen here was coming true. That the REF dumped the Zee refugees on Doomsday 212 and put so many innocent lives at stake gave the forces of good the hard choice of either defending the lost souls or battling the REF until the UPF fleet crossed over. Even now, the Third Empire gold ships were lifting off as many refugees as possible, helping in the already ongoing effort.
But would it be enough? Would they be able to save everyone before the UPF made its long-awaited appearance? And would there be enough ships left over to battle the REF itself before it could destroy the heavenly fleet?
No one knew, and Hunter realized that he and his flying machine might well be the determining factor.
That's why he had much to do in the little time that remained.
He pushed his power bar forward, but the craft did not move. It was getting juice, but something was preventing it from lifting off.
This is strange, he thought.
He checked his flight panel; everything was still functioning. He hit the power bar again. Still nothing.
This was not good. There was a huge war going on all around him, and he did not want to be struck here, immobile and flightless, in the middle of it. Once again he studied his control panel, trying to ascertain the problem. He hit his diagnostic viz screen, a device that would scan the aircraft and tell him what was wrong. When he saw the resulting holo-read-out, he was stunned. According to the image, the reason the ship wasn't taking off was because six people were sitting on its wings and nose. Pure nonsense — or so it would seem.
But when Hunter looked up, he discovered it was true.
Crouched on the nose of the craft was Pater Tomm. Balancing on the canopy tip was Calandrx.
Sitting on his left wing were Erx and Berx. On his right, were Klaaz and Gordon.
Hunter just stared out at them. Was this a dream? Or a stress-induced hallucination? A huge battle was going on nearby. Vessels of all shapes and sizes were going over his head. The planet itself seemed ready to come apart. Yet here were his old friends, sitting all around him just staring back at him, calmly, coolly. Smiling widely.
He hadn't seen them since Paradise.
And they looked so… different.
They were all bigger, stronger, with Zarex-sized muscles, and most bizarre, behind each one, barely visible, as if not really in this dimension, was a pair of enormous wings.
Hunter popped his canopy and was able to utter just one word: " How?"
Tomm just shrugged. 'This is what happens when you go there — and then come back," he said. "At least the way we did it."
Now they all studied him, but he looked the same.
"Obviously, ours has been the more dramatic transformation," Calandrx added dryly.
"Do you understand what's going on here, brothers?" Hunter finally asked them. "I mean the big picture. Did your minds become enlightened as your bodies did?"
Pater Tomm shrugged, and it made his nearly transparent wings move up and down for a moment.
"The ultimate battle between good and evil?" he replied.
"Is that all?" Hunter replied sardonically.
Tomm shrugged again. "Sounds strange, but might be as simple as that."
"It happens every billion years," Calandrx chimed in. "Or so they say. Usually when there is a simultaneous tear in the fabric of space and time, which is what happened, I guess, when we went one way to Paradise, and the REF went the other way to… well, you know where."
Hunter could only nod in agreement. This was exactly what the Ancient Astronaut had told him. He quickly explained to the six what had happened to him at Far Planet. The extraordinary security measures. His three temptations. Meeting the Astronaut himself, and the Third Empire agreeing to break their ages-old isolation to come and fight this important battle. Tomm was especially interested in hearing Hunter's brief recounting of his latest adventure, especially his tale of first meeting the Astronaut.
"Nothing would make me happier than to go there myself and reminisce with him," Tomm said, not without a trace of sadness. "I've been to Heaven, but I believe I could be just as happy on Far Planet. Such a wonderful place. But—"
"But the clock is ticking," Calandrx interjected. "And while we can do many things, stopping cosmic time isn't one of them. We've done our part, Hawk. We turned around the refugee ships, and we've got the robots of Myx involved. And obviously you've done your part, too."
"And more help is on the way," Klaaz added. "The question is, will it be enough?"
"I think you would know better than I," Hunter said.
"That's the problem," Tomm said. "Unlike just about everything else in the universe, the outcome here is not predetermined. No one knows which way this one will go — and I mean no one."
He raised his eyes upward, indicating to Hunter some kind of Higher Power.
"We've really gotten ourselves into the thick of it," Tomm went on. "We can only pray that it goes well. The enemy has tricks. They are deceitful. They will try everything to stop the rest of our fleet coming over, because that means there will be forty thousand more of us floating around in this existence, and that is simply too much good for them to take and be able to survive for very long."
Hunter was astonished to hear it put this way. "Who knew?" he asked. "Who knew when we all left Planet America that it would turn out this way?"
The six archangels laughed. It echoed across the barren, forbidding, smoldering landscape.
"Yes, eternity is funny like that," Calandrx said. "You never know what's going to happen next."
The six laughed again, but Hunter could only shake his head at the inside seraphic joke.
Suddenly Gordon was at his left hand. "But whatever transpires in the next hour, Hawk," he said, "the people back in the Home Planets will always owe you a debt of gratitude. You gave them something they would never have had without you: their freedom. The most precious thing in all of life."
Klaaz — old, bent-over ancient Klaaz — now huge and muscular, floated up nearby, too. "Many people have called me a hero over the years," he said, his voice incredibly vibrant. "But you, sir— you are my hero."
Erx and Berx were beside him now as well. His oldest friends in this lifetime.
"This is a great battle we face," Erx said. "It has to be fought, and it has to be won for you to finish why you were brought here, to this time and place."
"Which means you must keep fighting, Hawk," Berx said. "As we will… no matter what happens."
"Good luck, Hawk," Calandrx told him. "It is our honor to have known you. And perhaps, on a higher place, we will all see each other again."
Hunter could barely speak. "This is sounding a little too much like a last good-bye," he told them.
A tremendous explosion overhead shook everything around them. Hunter's flight screen began going nuts again. He had to push a few panels to get it back under control.
When he looked up again, the six were all floating around his jet. They waved — sadly — and then shot straight up into the sky. He tried to see where they were going, but they were gone in a flash.
They had disappeared before he could ask them why Zarex wasn't there.
Hunter finally got his craft to take off and was soon zooming up through the thin atmosphere of Doomsday 212.