In front of Hunter were two long line of soldiers; standing on either side of an aisle, they seemed to stretch on forever. On his left side were ceremonial troops of the Space Forces, unmistakable in their blue uniforms and oversized battle hats. On his right, an almost equal number of Solar Guards, again unmistakable in their black combat suits.
At the end of these two long lines was yet another Imperial throne. The Imperial Family was waiting for him upon it. The Emperor’s miter was glowing with an ethereal yellow light; a beam was coming through a well-placed window in the hall. The Emperor himself appeared to be StarScraping, drawing the yellow light from his favorite sun, called Impervious C, located at the center of the South Dog Night system some thirty-three light-years away.
Two words came to Hunter’s head on seeing this: Mood ring.
He started walking.
Music came up from somewhere. Ethereal strings, not so much bass. He was suddenly aware of his boot heels clicking on the pearl floor. Just as quickly, this noise went away.
He saw the color beaming down on the Emperor change slightly. The yellow became a tinge of orange.
Hunter picked up his pace. He was very aware that there were thousands of eyes on him — none of them belonging to the soldiers in this multiservice honor guard, though. True, the soldiers on either side of him were standing eyes straight, but they weren’t looking at him. They were looking across the aisle at each other, a long-held game of psyche-out between the rival SF and SG soldiers.
It added an interesting if slightly tense element to the room.
Hunter finally reached the end of this gauntlet to find that the last ten soldiers on his right side were not Solar Guards, but representatives from the third, smaller service, the Exploratory and Expeditionary Corps — the X-Forces.
The last two soldiers in this line were Erx and Berx.
Hunter nodded in their direction, then turned eyes front. He looked up at the Imperial Family. The Emperor as usual looked detached — there but not there, his face vacant as always. The glow on his hat had dulled a bit. The queen looked sexy but stern. She could not bring her eyes to meet Hunter’s. The Prince simply looked hung over and bored.
And Xara looked beautiful.
A platform appeared in front of Hunter. A man in thick ceremonial dress materialized along with it. On the platform were three emblems. The five-star gold badge of the Space Forces, the twin gold lightning bolts of the Solar Guards, and the crossed silver stars of the X-Forces.
“By order of all that is holy,” the priest said, “our Emperor has declared that as a reward for the ability you displayed in contest, you will be granted your choice of what service in which you will serve him…”
The man looked Hunter in the eye.
“It is now time to select,” he said. “Please choose well…”
Hunter looked over at Erx and Berx; they appeared extraordinarily happy — no doubt because their pockets were thick with winnings from the Earth Race. He looked up at Xara, who was gazing down as him, a regal smile in place, but her eyes sparkling. Yes, she certainly had a plan.
Suddenly the Prince spoke up.
“You will look your best in the uniform of the Space Forces,” he said, to some amusement of those gathered.
“I prefer that he join of the Inner Defense Forces,” the queen barked, suddenly coming to life.
Hunter grinned nervously. The Emperor appeared to be looking down at him, but Hunter felt his stare going right through him. At best, the most powerful being in the Galaxy appeared to be caught in a daydream — one that didn’t look pleasant.
Hunter stepped forward to the platform. He’d thought about this decision long and hard ever since returning to Earth from Mars.
Although his face had been flashed across the Galaxy, and his name was indeed on the lips of trillions of citizens, no one had come forward claiming to know who he was. This meant he would have to find out for himself, a task that could quite possibly take a lifetime or two scouring the lost planets of the Fringe.
But then again, maybe it wouldn’t take quite that long. If he played his cards right.
So he allowed his hand to hover on the Space Forces badge first. Then the one representing the Solar Guards.
Then he reached down and picked up the silver double stars of the X-Forces.
A gasp went through the crowd. The Empress and the Prince looked especially shocked.
But when Hunter looked up to the throne again, he saw Xara smiling down at him.
20
The night was filled with color.
StarScrapers were lighting up the sky. Big Bright City seemed brighter than ever. The stars shimmered with increased intensity.
Hunter was sitting on the balcony of his new dwelling, looking out on the night of light and counting down the minutes until his new adventure would begin.
On the table in front of him was a package from Xara. It was waiting for him when he returned from his commissioning ceremony and the brief celebration that followed. During that time he had not been able to talk to her; it was important at this stage to keep their alliance secret.
Inside the package he found an ancient star map. It showed a part of the Galaxy so isolated, so uncharted, Xara’s accompanying note indicated that no one was sure of its exact location. It was, however, in the Fifth Arm, one of the most remote parts of the Outer Fringe, a place very, very far from Earth. This, Xara’s note said, was where the ancient scientists postulated that the VLR/VSA beam that hit the Mars polar lander originated.
Then she dropped a bomb: She had been able to pull some strings and arrange that his first mission would be to this very uncharted part of the Galaxy, Fifth Arm, Outer Fringe.
In other words, she was enabling him to go off in search of who he was while serving his commission with the Empire at the same time. It seemed the best of all worlds.
Also included in the package was a poem dating back to the Second Empire — indeed, it was as old as the map itself. The poem was written in the very archaic language that few people in the Galaxy spoke anymore. However, Xara wrote him, they both knew a man who would be able to translate it. This mutual friend would soon be at Hunter’s door.
She had finished her note with some verse of her own. The passage caught him by surprise; its sentiments came right out of the blue.
Hunter had read the poem probably a hundred times by now, and it never failed to get him right in the throat. He looked up at the stars now, just coming into view as the sun finally set. The next morning he would leave for the farthest part of the Galaxy, to try to find out who he was. Yet at the same time, the sweet words from Xara made him wonder if Earth wasn’t the place he should be. Was it wise to leave the person regarded as the most beautiful girl in the Galaxy to search for something that was quite possibly unattainable? At the opposite end of that Galaxy?
He didn’t know.
A soft beeping at his door broke these thoughts. Hunter instructed the door to open. A slight, graying figure shuffled inside.
It was Calandrx.
They greeted each other warmly. Hunter was delighted to see the elderly pilot, their first meeting since the conclusion of the Earth Race.