The Last Starfighter (18 page)

Dust fell on his face as he looked up. Standing on the edge of the ice house roof, aiming straight down at him, was the alien assassin.

So this is how it ends, he thought. I retreat across half the galaxy to avoid getting involved in somebody else’s war, and something out of a bad dream shows up right here to kill me anyway. He wondered what the reaction of the trailer park’s inhabitants would be in the morning when they found his body here, sandwiched between the general store and the ice house. He only prayed it wouldn’t be his mother who found him.

A sharp whistle split the silence. The monster on the roof hesitated, turned curiously.

Standing nearby and thumbing his nose at the killer was the Beta Unit. The confused alien hesitated, but only for a moment. It was not easily put off by distractions. Clearly one of the two targets was a simulacrum. Well, he’d dealt with them before. Many who feared assassination used simulacrums to try and deceive their killers.

On this backward world that would not be a problem. It mattered not which of the two was the original. All he had to do was destroy both of them.

Again he took aim at the human face staring up at him, aiming for a clean burst through the braincase.

A violent buzz sounded. Something exploded close to the alien. It threw him off balance just enough to make his shot go wild, passing close enough to Alex’s skull for him to feel the heat. Without waiting to see what had happened, Alex broke for the tenuous safety of the store porch. Additional explosions landed all around the alien.

The killer recovered, kneeling on the roof of the ice house and aiming into the night, trying to find a target as brilliant light suddenly swept over him. Another blast sliced off an arm. The alien faltered for a second, calmly switched his weapon to his other hand and continued firing.

As Alex came panting around the front of the store, there was Centauri’s car fishtailing in front of the porch. The old man was firing through a port in the gullwing door, his weapon letting off one buzz-blast after another.

A weird, stifled moan floated down from above and behind Alex. Slowly and moving cautiously to his right, he edged out from underneath the porch until he could see the roof of the ice house. The alien’s other arm had been shot away. It was staggering as it searched for an avenue of escape. As it trembled another blast from Centauri’s gun struck it square in the back, spinning it around. It glared down into the parking area, the alien eyes finally locking on Alex. It was a cold, fishy stare and it went right through him.

Then the thing keeled over on the ice house roof. Smoke or steam poured from the body. It twitched once before tumbling over the side of the building to land with a dull
thunk
on the gravel below.

Centauri stepped out of his car, keeping his gaze on the steaming alien body. A quick search revealed that the fight had passed unnoticed by the sleeping citizens of the park. There were no awkward witnesses.

Alex wasn’t as confident and searched the darkness beyond the store. Surely someone must have heard the noise of Centauri’s pistol at least.

Then he imagined what someone like Otis would have made of the peculiar sounds. Mobile homes and trailers were not blessed with thick walls. More than once arguments flared when the sound of one television show overlapped another in the trailer nearby. If anyone
had
heard the late-night fracas, they’d probably ignore it, thinking it was old Mrs. Hadley watching the late-late show with the sound turned way up so she could listen without having to use her hearing aid.

What mattered was that no one materialized to stare curiously at the unexplainable corpse, for which Alex was grateful.

Centauri continued to aim his pistol at the smoking remains until he was satisfied that it was incapable of further movement. Then he slipped the small weapon back into the shoulder holster from which it had been pulled, trading it for a monogrammed handkerchief which he held over his nose.

Alex wondered at the reason for the handkerchief until he’d joined his rescuer in staring down at the body. Then his own nostrils wrinkled up and his eyes began to water.

“Yuck!” He hurriedly retreated from the odor.

“Illiterate comment, but evocative,” said Centauri. “Foul stench, isn’t it? Dirty creatures. Primitive predators who have wrapped themselves in the flimsiest trappings of civilization. Their real nature is much more difficult to camouflage.”

“Do they make good Starfighters?”

“Not hardly. Their moral sensibilities are far too undeveloped, and their ability to distinguish between what is good for the individual and what is good for the group is atrophied.”

Alex hurried to change the line of questioning. Centauri’s description of the morals of the monster lying dead before them sounded too much like the evening news.

“What’s it doing here?”

“I thought that would be obvious by now. Get a good look at ’em, Alex. You can bet your sense of peace and well-being you’ll be seeing others.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You asked what it was doing here. I thought you’d have figured it out by now. Apparently I was wrong. I tend to forget that while you are fast on the uptake with mechanical devices, your other mental processes have not developed quite as rapidly.

“This is a Double-Z Designate, judging by his method of operation.”

“Does that tell me anything?”

“It tells you that this is a recruited murderer. Usually a very efficient one. Compliments of Xur.”

“Xur! Why is he trying to kill me? How does he even know about me? If he knew anything about me he’d know I don’t want anything to do with him or his war.”

“Nevertheless, this creature was sent to find and kill you. By Xur’s order. No doubt the traitor keeps tabs on such useful throwbacks. This one must have been operating conveniently close to your system; hence his ability to locate you so quickly.” Centauri coughed into one hand.

“Evidently our flight from Rylos was picked up and plotted by Xur’s Ko-Dan allies. There aren’t that many inhabited worlds in this sector. Any supralight ship leaves a telltale track. It would appear that this thing detected ours.”

Behind them, smoke still rose from the alien torso. It twitched imperceptibly. One eye opened part way. Armless and immobilized from the waist up, the alien searched the ground on which it had fallen. Nearby lay the deadly pistol that had almost slain Alex.

Slowly the alien slipped one of the peculiar terran shoes off a foot, exposing prehensile toes. The foot moved slowly, quietly, toward the weapon. Toes gripped it firmly as the alien fought to raise the muzzle.

Ignorant of the activity behind them, Alex and Centauri continued their conversation.

“But why is Xur after me?”

Centauri emitted a heartfelt sigh. “Because whether you believe it or not, Xur knows that you’re a threat to him.”

“I can’t be! I turned in my uniform. I don’t want to be a Starfighter!”

“Ah, but Xur doesn’t know that. He only knows and is evidently convinced that at least one
potential
Starfighter exists on this backward world. You. Merely by living you constitute a potential threat to him. Xur is not the kind to leave potential threats undealt with.”

“But I don’t want to fight him. I’ll sign a treaty with him.”

“Why should Xur bother with a treaty? Treaties take time and effort to put together, and one like Xur can never feel safe with them. Much simpler just to have you killed. I’m afraid you have no choice anymore, my boy. Xur will consider you a Starfighter whether you choose to pilot a gunstar or an old Ford.”

A new voice joined in. “You gotta go back, Alex, if only to protect yourself,” said the Beta Unit. “If you stay here, you’re dog food.”

“Trust Centauri, my boy. I assure you I had nothing to do with this. It’s not my style. Just bad luck that the Ko-Dan detected us leaving Rylos.”

“How could they know there was a maybe-Starfighter on board your ship, though?” Alex wanted to know.

Centauri shrugged. “There are many ways. It is well-known that the Rylan defense command has been infiltrated by Xur’s people. The command itself was organized in haste. Furthermore, it’s clear that we were detected not just leaving Rylos, but leaving from the vicinity of the secret Starfighter base. Xur may be quite mad, but he is also madly clever. He is known to leave nothing to chance.

“If he knew your true feelings, it is true he would realize he has nothing to fear from you. Alas, he doesn’t know that. So he assumes the worst. A small caution on his part. What is the liquidation of a single primitive in the context of his plans to make himself Emperor of the worlds of the League? Even if he could now be convinced of your determination to stay out of the coming conflict, it’s unlikely he’d go to the trouble of rescinding the order to have you killed. Xur would rather have you eliminated than admit he might have made a mistake.” Centauri sighed.

“No, no, my boy, it’s too late for talk. I do feel sorry for you.”

“But what can I
do
?”

“Trust me. You have no choice anymore except to trust me, because within hours this place will be crawling with ZZ-Designates with one thought foremost in their microscopic, predatory little minds Kill Alex Rogan.”

“Kill Alex Rogan,” Alex mumbled. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he jumped, only relaxed slightly seeing that it was a gopher.

“He’s right,” the Beta Unit told his original. “At least you’ll have a fighting chance up there in a gunstar.”

“Exactly.” Visions of full payment danced again in Centauri’s head. “And meanwhile down here they’ll all be running around like mad trying to get Beta.”

“Beta?” The double frowned.

“Beta.” Alex eyed his duplicate.

“Of course,” said Centauri, wondering at the confusion. “What do you think he’s here for?”

“Now wait a second, Centauri,” the Beta started to protest.

Centauri stared at the simulacrum. “You are programmed to follow directives. Personal survival is not programmed into your system. What is this, some kind of electronic mutiny?”

“No mutiny,” the Beta Unit replied. “I know what my job is. It’s just that you could be a little more diplomatic about it. Remember, I have Alex’s feelings as well as his body.”

Centauri muttered something about Ormex & Co. not making simulacrums the way they used to, raised his voice and smiled as he spoke to Alex.

“Well, my boy, the choice is yours. Either join the fight against Xur and the Ko-Dan or,” and he gestured absently toward the smoking corpse nearby, “get used to this smell.”

“You see,” the Beta said insistently, “you gotta go back, Alex. At least you have a fighting chance up there. I’ll cover for you down here.” It tried to smile reassuringly. Alex’s skin crawled as he watched his own lips curve upward. “It’s my job, and I’m good at it. Xur’s jerks will go nuts trying to catch me.”

“Maybe the next ones won’t know how to find me,” Alex suggested hopefully.

Centauri shook his head slowly, looked genuinely apologetic if not entirely displeased by the turn events had taken.

“Afraid not, my boy. Now that you have been located it’s a virtual certainty that your position and description has been relayed to a central distribution point. This thing’s companions will know where to look, all right, as well as who to look for.”

The pistol clutched in flexible toes on the ground nearby finally steadied on its target. As it did so Centauri noticed the movement of the alien leg where there shouldn’t have been any movement. He yelled a warning as he jumped at Alex, shoving him aside with one hand while drawing his own weapon with the other to return the fire.

The impact of the blast from the alien’s pistol sent him staggering backward as Alex went crashing to the ground. Centauri fired repeatedly. This time he didn’t stop after amputating the offending limb. He continued to fire until the alien body had been chopped into small, smoking chunks and didn’t stop until the shrunken remains finally burst into sputtering, blue-tinged flame.

Alex was on his feet as the old man stumbled. The Beta Unit caught him from the other side. It took both of them to keep him upright.

“Centauri! Beta, get a doctor!”

Blood seeped through the side of the old man’s jacket, but with the help of the two Alexes he managed to make it to his vehicle. They let him slump against it and moved back while he stood by himself, breathing hard and deep.

“No doctors!” Centauri gasped while feeling gingerly of his side. “No native cures or witch doctors. They wouldn’t know what to make of my insides anyway.” He put one hand over his lips, coughed twice, then forced a smile.

“Excellent duplicate, actually. I can’t tell you apart. I take back what I said about Ormex’s designers.” He glanced toward his ribs. “I’m okay, boys. It’s just a scratch. Looks worse than it is.”

Carefully he walked around to stand next to the driver’s side, turned to confront Alex.

“Face it, Alex. You’re a born Starfighter. Whether you like it or not, you’re a part of this war now. You can stay here and battle Xur’s minions one at a time or come back with me and fight on behalf of all the civilized worlds. Your special talents are needed.
You
are needed. It’s time to grow up, Alex.”

The subject of Centauri’s discourse turned his face to the night sky, thinking hard. It was a painful decision to have to make, but wasn’t that what growing up was all about? Making painful decisions?

“What if I’m killed out there, Centauri? What about my mom, and Louis?”

“Two people. A trillion lives are on the line out there, Alex.”

“Yeah, but they’re not my people. Not my family.”

Suddenly Centauri sounded very wise. For a moment he put aside his snideness and spoke in dead earnest.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Alex. Intelligence and civility unite all creatures. Those are the ties that bind, that mean something. As for yourself, if you should be killed, well, everything dies eventually. Stars die, whole galaxies perish. Existence is brief, time is relative. Only truth goes on.”

“I like existence as it is, even if it is brief.”