 
Cave World

By John Cosper

Copyright 2011, 2016 by John Cosper

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

www.johncosper.com

For Lydia and Sam

### Contents

Chapter One: The Cave World

Chapter Two: Earth

Chapter Three: Lariat

Chapter Four: The Ruins

Chapter Five: The Fortress

Chapter Six: The Arena

Chapter Seven: Lusana

Chapter Eight: The Freighter

Chapter Nine: Sulee Minor

Chapter Ten: The Maker

Chapter Eleven: Alliances

Chapter Twelve: Spikor

Chapter Thirteen: The Rite of Kalagan

Chapter Fourteen: Vishluna

Chapter Fifteen: Lariat Again

Chapter Sixteen: Betrayal

Chapter Seventeen: Prisoners Again

Chapter Eighteen: War

Chapter Nineteen: A Room

Chapter Twenty: The Quake

Epilogue: In the Shadows

About the Author
**Chapter One:  
The Cave World**

It was the dead of night on the planet Sulee Minor when the engines of a small hovercraft hummed to life. Stationed on a landing platform out of sight from the public (and the palace guard), it was the perfect vehicle by which a rebellious princess could launch a revolution against the wishes of her father.

Pax Dillard removed the fuel nozzle from the ship, securing it to the pump, as Orrin Link led the princess to the ship. The crew went over a systems check as Orrin and Pax helped the princess aboard.

"You sure you don't need extra guns on this one?" said Orrin.

"The lighter we travel, the safer we'll be," said Lita. "And if something happens, I need you to--"

"Nothing better happen to you," said Orrin. "Come back alive."

"Good luck, princess," said Pax

Lita nodded and closed the door.

Orrin and Pax stepped away. The hovercraft tilted and drifted off the platform into the darkness, taking a circuitous path unobserved by the palace guards. Not that anyone would sound the alarm; half the guard – under Orrin's command – was in on the princess's nocturnal activities, all of them commoners with families that benefited from the medicine, food, and other supplies she smuggled in.

Lita handed a small data-disc to the co-pilot. "Coordinates for our meeting," she said. The co-pilot seemed a little more tense than normal. "What's wrong?" the princess asked.

"I don't trust him," he said.

"I don't trust him either," she said.

"Then why deal with him?"

"He's a businessman, not a loyalist," said Lita. "That makes him a liar, but not a threat to our operations."

"For the right price, anyone can be a threat, your majesty."

Lita said nothing. There was always risk in working with a new supplier, but the benefits far outweighed the dangers in this case. For two years she had worked the underground channels, hoping to make this connection. No one was better at delivering the goods than Tor Hobbes. Her people needed what he could provide.

"Stand by for cave transport," said the pilot.

Lita watched out the side as the hovercraft approached a large cave. The ship slipped smoothly into the darkened cavern, the auto-pilot kicking in to help navigate its twists and turns. The blackness seemed impenetrable, stretching on and on. But Lita soon saw the light, a light that grew larger in size, brighter in intensity.

"Welcome to Arrax," said the pilot.

Lita looked out on the mysterious planet, lit brightly by the blazing star at the center of its solar system. Known as the Cave World, the planet Arrax was known and visited for millennia before any space craft was able to chart its position among the stars. The true events of its discovery are the stuff of myth and legend, yet the Cave World long ago connected the known, inhabited universe thanks to the millions and millions of caves that dot its surface and give Arrax it nickname. Every cave is a portal to another world. And he who can master the planet's geography can travel any place he or she desires – without ever experiencing the vomit-inducing inconvenience of space travel.

Just how the caves worked was a mystery no one seemed able to unravel. As a young child, Lita heard stories from her nursemaids about a Creator, a powerful being who designed Arrax as a way to connect various peoples across interstellar distances that would be impossible to cross in a life time. Despite her father's doubts, Lita chose to believe the stories. She wanted to believe that something like Arrax could be used for good – not just selfish gain.

By and large, people were much more interested in what they could get from the caves, especially those who would use them for war and conquest. Conquering peoples spent a great deal of time developing cave-worthy weaponry to subdue other worlds. In response to these aggressive tactics, a number of worlds wishing to remain independent invested their greatest resources in cave defense systems.

A handful of worlds had taken the high road at one time. Believing that any money spent on weapons, be they offensive or defensive, would be a waste of resources, these worlds invested in art, music, and cultural development, achieving new heights in such lofty areas... that is, until conquering worlds rolled in, crushed them with an iron fist, and reallocated all of the money from the arts to the military.

It was this same sort of oppression that had impoverished the majority of Lita's people. It was her belief that the caves were meant for good that drove her to act, to rebel, to become a pirate smuggling the necessities of life back to her planet. It was illegal – that is, it was illegal in the eyes of the ruler of Arrax. But Lita had no choice. Her people were dying, and she would pay whatever price necessary to help them.

Tor Hobbes was one of the many willing to set that price for the princess. Widely regarded as one of the best smugglers working the surface of Arrax, the portly humanoid with the bald head and bushy blonde beard on his chin was well known for his mastery of the caves and his skill in making a deal. Tor was always on time. His loads were what he said they would be – to the last ounce. Yes he'd take his own grandmother for a few dollars more, but he never shorted a client. He delivered exactly as promised every time.

No doubt his success had brought him great wealth, although just how much wealth was a subject of much speculation. Some said he could have afforded his own solar system. Yet the trader was a notorious miser, which is why he chose to make his first meeting with the Suleean princess in his antiquated Desert Rover rather than the new model hovercrafts his partner Zookie begged and begged him to buy.

"Come on, Tor," said Zookie, struggling to keep hold of the loose fitting helmet protecting his slimy skin from the harsh wind and sand, "I'm not saying we have to buy new. There are plenty of good, used hovercrafts available that won't break your bank."

"Zookie, I've been at this a long time," Tor snarled, guiding the Rover into one of Arrax's deep canyons. "You don't stay rich blowing everything you make."

"I'll buy the hovercraft," said Zookie. "I'll pay for it out of my cut. It's the least I can do, right?" Zookie's eyes blinked on top of two slimy eyestalks that rattled against the top of his helmet.

"No good," Tor replied. "I'm not going anywhere in a new vehicle; especially not on a deal like this. We get in a chase and I'm in a vehicle I can't move like my own limbs, and we're dead."

Zookie sighed in disgust. The Tularian would have struck out on his own years ago, but he knew the two of them were better as a pair than solo. Tor had the business smarts. Zookie had the people smarts. Like all Tularians, he had a way of reading brain waves. He couldn't read minds, but he knew when someone was being honest or telling a lie. Tor's business sense made them both very rich; Zookie's people sense had saved both of their lives on a number of occasions.

Both traders knew they would need all of their skills this day. With the payload hidden in the trunk, they stood to make more in one deal than they had in the past five years combined. They just had to make the deal and get off the planet before the Warlords knew they were here – and who they were dealing with.

The nav-computer started beeping, and Tor brought the Rover to a stop. "This is the place," he said.

Zookie adjusted the round glass helmet over his slimy head, scoping out the scene. He pointed to an empty spot of ground. "There."

Tor nodded. "Yep. No doubt."

Zookie checked his weapon as Tor, always cautious about having to make a quick getaway, set the Rover to idle. "We're set to kill, right?"

"Are you mad??" Tor grabbed the blaster from his partner and switched to stun.

"Her men will show us no mercy," Zookie sneered. "They'll kill us."

"They're protecting royalty," said Tor.

"She's a pirate," said Zookie.

"She's a princess first," said Tor, checking his own blaster. "I have no intention of dying, but I won't become the most wanted man in half the galaxy doing so."

"Some would call you a hero," Zookie said, opening his door.

"Not the ones with money," Tor said back.

The traders stepped out of the vehicle and walked in front. They didn't have to wait long. The hum of a cloaking device caused both men to jump as the Sulee Hovercraft appeared out of nowhere on the empty patch of ground. Zookie's blaster was at his hip in an instant. Tor put a fat hand on his partner's gun and pointed it to the ground. "Easy, easy. Everybody's cool. Remember that."

The gull-wing door on the side of the hovercraft opened, and the two Suleean pilot/bodyguards stepped out, their metallic red, Arcturian body armor glinting in the sunlight.

"Identification," Said the pilot.

"You know who I am," said Tor, confidently. "Ready when her highness is."

When he was satisfied the coast was clear, the co-pilot opened the gull-wing door of the hovercraft.

Everyone in the galaxy knew of Princess Lita's beauty, but only those who had met her failed to find words to describe it. She stepped down on the ground in a pair of spiked heel boots that rose up to the knees, covering the bottom of her own custom Arcturian armored suit. Her long, black hair, wrapped in hundreds of tiny braids, draped over her back like a royal cape.

Tor saw none of this. Like most humanoids on their first encounter with the pirate princess of Sulee Minor, he was hypnotized by the piercing blue eyes of a woman so beautiful she could stop a Vogonic Lavadog from eating its young with one look.

"Master Hobbes," she said. "Your reputation for punctuality is well deserved."

"My clients value such things," he replied. "Especially in such an inconvenient meeting place."

"And what do you value?" Lita asked.

Tor smiled. "Payment upon delivery."

Lita nodded to the co-pilot, who withdrew a case from the front of the hovercraft and carried it over to Tor. The man was nervous and twitchy; Zookie instantly sensed. Tor stepped forward and opened the case, examining the contents. Zookie could feel Tor's reaction to seeing the money they had been promised.

"Sulee royalty has long been known for its honor," he said. "I'm glad to see some things never change."

"We value our traditions," said Lita. "Or else I would not be here."

Tor pulled a remote from his belt. With one press of a button, the trunk of the Rover opened, and a mechanical arm extracted the payload from the rear. Lita's guards moved toward the pallet of fuel canisters, activated the hoverfield, and pushed their merchandise toward the hovercraft. Lita checked the materials personally and turned back to Tor.

"Thank you," Lita said.

"Awful lot of rocket fuel," said Tor. "You guys aren't planning lethal, are you?"

Lita looked back at him, stone-faced. "There are other uses for this material than war."

Tor nodded. Sometimes it was best not to know.

The deal concluded, Tor turned back to the Rover, shutting the cargo door and walking toward the driver's door. He noticed Zookie still standing, watching the princess. Then he felt the wind rising up around him, carrying sand in all directions.

Tor saw the princess turn in the direction of the wind, blinded by the sun of Arrax. He never saw the rocket leave its firing position; they only heard it whistle past, lighting the fuel canisters in a white hot explosion.

Tor rolled to cover beside his Rover. He peered over the hood and saw the thing he feared most: Arkangel! Tarre Kahn's deadliest weapon, the black helicopter swooped in out of the sun, unleashing her deadly arsenal down on the Princess's hovercraft, reducing the ship and the mercenaries to atoms.

"Zookie!" Tor drew his gun and looked for his partner, preparing to make a hasty getaway. The Rover was empty, but Tor spotted the Tularian through the windows – half way up the canyon, headed right toward an advancing assault team. Tor's stomach burned inside him. The wretched traitor! Tor leveled his blaster to fire at Zookie – only to find himself fired upon from behind.

"You'll pay for this, trader!" a voice cried out behind him. Tor spun around and fired on instinct – watching in slow motion as his stun bolt hit the princess in the chest. Her face frozen in shock, she crumpled to the sand.

Tor felt relief that his weapon was still on stun, but the relief was short lived. Arkangel lit up his Desert Rover with gunfire. The vehicle exploded, hurling Tor through the air.

The blue-skinned warriors with white hair and red eyes rappelled down the canyon walls and moved in quickly. Tor scrambled to his feet. Being from a planet with heavier gravity, he could move faster than seemed possible on the lighter surface of Arrax. He ran hard, hoping the relentless attackers would simply assume him dead in the wreckage.

Tor ducked inside a cave to catch his breath. He calmed his breathing and leaned out of the cave to take a look. The gunfire had ceased. The foot soldiers were standing over the motionless body of Lita. She was still alive – at least Tor had left her alive. But she was in a far worse position now than had she died. Tarre Kahn now had the leverage he needed to exact unconditional surrender from Lita's father, a weak politician who would not hesitate to sell out his people for her life. Lita would rather have died than submit to Warlord control; it was her defiance that had given the Suleean people the will to hold out. Now, her fight was at an end.

Tor shook it off. It wasn't his problem. He had to lay low, wait, and somehow, some way, make it home without being captured. He knew it was not going to be easy. Zookie was probably telling the Warlords the way home even now. Perhaps if he could get to the cave of Sullust...

A sound like sharpening knives caught his ear. Tor quickly moved deeper into the caves to find cover, knowing all too well what was coming. Squidnoks, sentry robots, appeared in the mouth of the cave. Each of the dreaded sentries had two ultraviolet eyes in front of their dark grey heads and three extendable tentacles on either side of the head. They moved about on retractable legs that extended up to thirty feet, although the height of the cave restricted them now to a height of about seven feet – still quite menacing by anyone's standards.

Tor felt something slide between his feet – a Neusafarian iguanarat from the look of it. The innocent, clueless creature foraged over the cave floor seeking sustenance, unaware of the mechanized death that lurked at the edge of the cave. The iguanarat nearly made it to the daylight of Arrax's twin suns when the lead Squidnok whistled, aimed its purple eyes at the little critter and vaporized it.

Tor groaned softly. Neusafari was not the kind of place he wanted to visit, but as he gazed into the black hole near the back of the cave, he realized even the dank bogs of Neusafari were preferable to capture and torture at the hands of the Warlords and their hideous torture devices. He started to make his way into the darkness, trying to go softly, when a rock caught his foot.

Donny fell spread eagle on the floor as gales of laughter erupted around him. Lost in thought, trapped in the strange, science fiction universe he himself had created, Donny lost sight where he was going and fallen prey once more to his own clumsiness. The small kid with blonde hair picked up his glasses and gathered his books as quickly as he could, hoping to make a quick getaway – not unlike the rogue trader Tor Hobbes, one of many characters Donny had invented to live in his own private universe.

He had nearly everything back in his arms except the red folder. It was where all his sketches, all his treasured ideas were kept. He turned to see a fellow sixth grader in a Spider-Man T-shirt holding his folder, its contents open to the world.

"Did you draw all this?" he asked.

Donny snatched the folder, closing the cover on the drawings of Arrax, the Squidnoks, Arcturian suits of armor, and the menacing Tarre Kahn.

The kid smiled at him. "They're really good."

"Thanks," he managed to mutter. He turned and ran down the hall.

It was sixth period, Donny's favorite time of the school day. He took his seat at the back of study hall and set the red folder in front of him. For fifty minutes, he could create. Arrax was his world, his dream. Like Lewis with Narnia and Tolkien with Middle Earth, this would be his legacy.

He turned to the pencil sketch of Tarre Kahn's dreaded Minister of Technology, a strange being from parts unknown called Dr. Cyn. Little was known about the mad doctor had a large head with two huge eyes – eyes that contained twin pupils, side by side. All week long, Donny had experimented with the doctor's physiology; would he have two arms? Multiple arms? Or like the Squidnoks he created, would he have tentacles attached to his head?

Sadly, he didn't get the chance to experiment. Steve Franks, the star athlete of the eight grade class, swiped his sketch off his desk and held it high for a closer look.

"Nice work, Donny," he said. "This your dad, or a self-portrait?"

Donny spoke softly in reply. "Give it back, Steve."

"What's the matter? I heard you were writing the next big thing in sci-fi. I heard you were going to be the one to give us the next Lord of the Rings. Isn't that what you told Bridget?"

Donny looked down the row of desks at Bridget, a pretty cheerleader who one day, in a fit of insanity, had actually treated Donny like a human being. Detention made strange bedfellows, and both students had opened up considerably that afternoon: Bridget about her fears, and Donny about his dreams. Sadly, the friendship didn't stand up to middle school pressures to conform. In order to save face with her popular pals, Bridget told them all about Donny's dreams of distant planets and space heroes, making a mockery of the very thing she had said was "so cool" just days earlier.

Donny looked back up to see Steve had the whole folder in his hands. He was rifling through the pages, getting everything out of order. "Gee, Donny, where are the spaceships?"

Donny grabbed for the pages, just missing as Steve lifted them out of his reach. "There are no spaceships. Not in my story."

"But you have all these planets listed. Arrax, Neusafari, Malinar, Sully Minor."

"It's pronounced Soo-lee Minor." Laughter. Several kids were watching Steve's little critique session, and Donny was now keenly aware of their eyes on him.

Well, it's not like he was popular to begin with. What did he care?

"The worlds are linked together by Arrax, the Cave World. Every cave is a portal to another planet."

"Now how does that make any sense?" Steve said, entertaining the masses. "You mean I walk into a cave on Earth and come out on another planet?"

"Not just another planet," said Donny. "The Cave World. There are millions of caves on the Cave World, all of them leading to different worlds."

"And if I go in one of those caves, I can come out where ever I want?"

"Only if you go in the right cave," said Donny. "There's a map, and the map shows you what cave leads to what world. If you don't go in the right cave, you could end up on a world where the atmosphere is full of Ammonia, or you might fall into an acidic swamp." Donny didn't have a lot of confidence in his peers, but he believed in his story. He knew the world would, one day. Maybe he could plant the seeds now.

"Well," said Steve, tucking his papers neatly back in the folder. "You have put a lot of thought into this little universe."

"That's the secret to any great work of fantasy," Donny said. "You have to know your world, its people, and its rules, backwards and forwards."

"Yeah?" said Steve. "You know your Cave Planet pretty well?"

Donny cracked a little smile. "I've drawn it a couple hundred times."

Steve nodded. "Well then, I guess this won't bother you a bit."

It all happened in slow motion. Donny saw Steve turn, open the third floor classroom window and dump his precious folder out into the cold, winter wind.

The class erupted in laughter. Donny ignored the jeers as he raced for the door, pausing to look back at Bridget - who dared not look him in the eye. He raced for the stairs and headed out the front door.

His work was everywhere. He started to gather what he could, but the wind was terrible. He could only hope the more important documents were close. He found the lineage of Warlord royalty – the clans, the chain of command, from the dying days of their home world through their conquest of Arrax, when the blue-skinned warrior race effectively made the whole universe their empire. He found the bio of his hero, Tor Hobbes, a miser with money who, on the surface, cared only for himself. Yet Donny knew there was a tender heart inside his four hundred pound frame, just waiting to emerge in a time of crisis.

A short distance away he found his heroine's bio. Lita: the heir to the throne not just of her home world Sulee Minor – but the universe. Were it not for the tyranny of the Warlords, her father Ulic would still reign over the peaceful worlds of Arrax. Since the rule of her great-grandfather, the blood-thirsty Tarre Kahn had cut them off from nearly all of their allied worlds. Only Sulee Major and Minor remained free, and even the weak governor of Sulee Major was on the verge of a "treaty" with the Warlord ruler.

Stapled at the back of her three page back story was a sketch of the warrior princess, flowing dark hair draped in hundreds of braids swinging wildly as she slashed a Warlord foot soldier with her sword. Lita was an amalgamation of Princess Leia, Barbarella, and Sarah Conner.

She also bore an unmistakable resemblance to Bridget. There would have been no end to his humiliation had Steve discovered this drawing,

Donny made his way to the library and his favorite private study room, his own fortress of solitude. He took inventory of the shuffled papers, many of them wrinkled from the dew still on the ground outside. Nothing major was out of place. The first draft of his latest adventure featuring Tor Hobbes was intact - bios, geographical info on most of the major worlds. He had everything, save the one document that tied them all together: the map of Arrax.

He considered running back down stairs to have another look, but he was sure the wind had carried it far off by now. Not that it worried him. He had drawn the same map from memory many, many times. He would simply do it again.

Donny used the bottom of a Coke can to outline the Eastern and Western Hemispheres. A ruler bisected both hemispheres at the equator. He started with the spiral pattern he had created two years ago, lining the planet with caves and labeling them as he went.

Having completed the Eastern Hemisphere, he discovered an anomaly on the west. A stray speck on the surface of this sheet of paper seemed to have placed another cave very close to the cave of Veego, not far from the ambush the Warlords perpetrated on Tor and Lita.

"Hmm," he said.

Donny pondered the implications of this stray mark on his page. Any filmmaker, game maker, or comic publisher who would look at this story would want to know what that stray dot was. Donny didn't pretend to know his own world 100%, but for some reason, this strange anomaly bothered him.

Although he wrote his stories by stream of consciousness, he was as calculating and far thinking as possible in laying out the rules of his world. It made telling the stories of Arrax and those who traveled its surface easier. He wasn't one to create holes in the ground for convenience sake. Yet, he thought about Tor, on the run from the Warlords. Perhaps this was some sort of divine providence.

So where did it lead?

The idea of creating another whole world made him roll his eyes. It's not a simple task, willing a fictional world into existence. Not the way Donny did it anyway. He was very thorough. But perhaps there was one pre-made he could just pop in there. He already had caves leading to Dune, Hoth, Kashyyk, Tattooine, Vulcan, Barsoom... So where else could he go?

"Hmm," he said again. It was a crazy thought, but funny, in an odd way. He picked up his pen and wrote the name of the new world over the cave: Earth.

A loud CRASH on the other side of the wall made Donny jump out of his seat. It sounded like a huge bookshelf toppling over, and hundreds of books spilling on the floor. He glanced out the tiny window in time to see a large shadow pass by his door. He turned the knob and pulled the door open—

Only to get knocked flat on his back as someone big crashed into the room, shutting the door behind them. The large man lifted a strange device that emitted what could only be a laser bolt, shattering the overhead lights and plunging the room into darkness.

Terrified, Donny scrambled to take two puffs from his asthma inhaler before finally forcing out the words, "Who are you?"

"If you want to live, you'll save your questions for later."

It was a foreign voice, and yet a voice he knew. He knew it because he had created Tor Hobbes, and he had always known he would speak like that. He just never thought he'd hear it in person, in a private study room in his school library.
**Chapter Two:  
Earth**

All his life, Donny had heard the expression, "It's a small world." The first time Donny remembered hearing this phrase was in an airport on vacation when he and his family ran into his second grade teacher, hundreds of miles from home, while changing flights. The encounter so ingrained the cliché in Donny's mind, he was compelled to make a variation – "Small cave, huh?" – part of the vernacular for those who traveled from planet to planet by way of the caves of Arrax.

Yet even though he had created the planet Arrax, Donny never really understood the full scope of the phrase he invented. Not until he found himself lying on the floor of a private study room in his school library, just a few feet from the hulking, dangerous trader Tor Hobbes whom he had also invented.

Donny not only felt like he was living in a small cave, he felt downright claustrophobic.

"I, uh..."

"Keep your voice and your head down," said Tor. "I won't hurt you, but flap your lips like that, and we'll both be dead."

The voice was just as he imagined. In fact everything was exactly, precisely the way Donny always pictured his hero, save one detail... the smell. Tor had a body odor not to be believed, much less experienced first-hand in a confined space.

"Blast it, they're everywhere," Tor said, peering through the narrow window in the door. "What jacked up, flyspeck of a rock is this?"

"W-w-what?" stammered Donny.

"What planet am I on?"

Donny could barely stammer out the word. "Earth."

"Earth?" Tor's eyes rolled up as if he was searching his memory manually for information. "Never heard of it." He sniffed the air deeply. "At least you have oxygen. That is oxygen, right?"

Donny stared back blankly.

"Stupid question," said Tor. "If you didn't I would have suffocated soon as I arrived. Do you know where the nearest Telstar station is?"

"We don't..." Donny stopped himself. How should he answer questions like this? "I've never heard of that."

"You don't know what Telstar is?" Tor grunted. "It's a communication post, allows people on one planet to contact another, so long as..." he stopped. "Is there any way off this planet? Besides the cave that brought me here?"

Donny thought before he answered. "The only way we've ever left is by space ship. What cave?"

"The cave! The cave that's twenty feet from us right now."

"This is a library," said Donny. "There are no caves in here."

"Tremendous," said Tor. "There's one way off this hick world, and it's being guarded by a squadron of Squidnoks."

Tor turned from the window and slid to the floor, checking his weapon, the Mach 3 Strider he took off the dead body of none other than Kwijibo the King of Ultaire 4. Donny was stunned to see the beautiful weapon in three-dimensions and living color.

"That's a nice gun," said Donny.

Tor glanced up. "I took this off the dead body of none other than Kwijibo the King of Ultaire 4. This beauty was handcrafted for that worthless ball of blubber. Unfortunately for him, the finest craftsmanship was no match for my shooter's eye."

Donny smiled. This was all probably a dream, but it was one he would never forget. "The gunfight at Espas Om, I remember," he said.

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Tor was on his feet, an angry scowl on his face and a Mack 3 Strider gun barrel pressed against Donny's face.

"What do you know about Espas Om?"

Donny was sweating, afraid for his life and still a bit in shock. Who wouldn't be, when faced with death at the hands of a man you created. "I don't, I..."

"Talk! How come a kid who never heard of Telstar and doesn't know he's sitting on a cave knows about me at Espas Om?"

"Please," Donny's heart was racing. The cold steel of the gun barrel suddenly made this moment all too real to be a dream. "I'm just a kid. I read a lot!"

"You read the bounty wires?" said Tor. "Is that how you know me? You wanna know how many men have come after me because of my record? Believe me, it's a very long list!"

"I believe you," said Donny, who had written both the bounty list and the list of names of those who tried – and failed – to take Tor in. "I want to help you."

"Sorry, pal," said Tor. "The last guy who said that bailed on me not half an hour ago. That's how I ended up here on, Earth, was it?"

Donny nodded. "I promise, I can get us out of here."

"Yeah?" said Tor. "And why should I believe that?"

A purple light glowed brightly around Tor's bald, sweaty head. Donny's eyes swelled. "Duck!! Quick!!"

Tor leapt to the side, Donny scrambling to follow, as a Squidnok blasted the window in, obliterating the floor. Tor reached over the table and fired back, blasting the Squidnok between the eyes.

He turned to Donny. "You know how to get out of this place? Talk!"

Donny peered through the hole in the floor. The school swimming pool was just below them, several big chunks of the floor sitting on the bottom already.

"I hope you don't mind getting wet," said Donny.

Tor looked over the edge. "Better wet than dead!" He grabbed Donny by the shirt collar and forced the two of them through the hole.

Donny felt his stomach fly out of his body momentarily as he screamed – a stupid thing to do, he soon realized, as he hit the water hard and swallowed a huge gulp in the process. Tor pulled him to the surface.

"Gotta keep moving," he said. They swam to the edge and pulled themselves out of the water, just as two of the Squidnoks aimed their heat beams at the pool. The lasers struck the surface, and the water boiled and hissed angrily. Donny caught just a glimpse of this as he and Tor ran out of the pool area into the school hall.

"This way!" Donny said, pointing to a set of doors. They ran through the doors and up a flight of steps to the school parking lot, where Tor gasped.

"Wait!" he shouted. "What are all these... machines?"

Donny looked at the cars, then turned to Tor. "We call those cars. We use them to get around places. To travel."

"This is what you have for personal conveyance?" Tor shook his head. "You weren't kidding when you said this place was primitive. But it'll have to do."

"What do you mean?" asked Donny. Tor was already on his way to the first big car he spotted, a '91 Chrysler Imperial that belonged to a stodgy English teacher who had nearly cost Donny the honor roll, simply because she couldn't stand Donny's obsession with science fiction. He knew he should feel bad allowing the hulking trader break into the car and jumping it to life, but Mrs. Pugh had it coming.

"You coming?" said Tor. "I could use some navigational help."

Donny ran for the car. It was entirely possible the Squidnoks had not seen him with Tor, but better safe than sorry. Besides, did he really want to go back inside and sit through science class?

Donny climbed in the car, where Tor was still trying to figure out the controls. "This works just like my Rover," he said. "Just a little more cramped."

"There's a switch on the side. If you—"

Too late. Tor simply put his massive feet against the floorboard and broke the seat, forcing it back. Again, Donny would have felt bad, but it was Mrs. Pugh's car. Tor put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot.

"Where do you want to go?" Donny asked.

"Back through that cave where I belong," he said. "But until those Squidnoks are cleared out, I need some high ground."

Donny nodded. "You hungry?"

Fifteen minutes later, Donny found himself in a booth at IHOP with a man he created. Tor gazed eagerly at the pictures in the menu, ordering at least three meals. Donny didn't have much in his checking account (money saved from his part-time job cleaning the church after service on the weekends), but he hoped there was enough to cover them both. Just in case, he ordered light – an English muffin and coffee.

The waitress left them, and they sat in an uncomfortable silence only Donny could break.

"My name's Donny," he said.

Tor looked at him, then looked away. "Call me Zaphod."

Donny tried hard not to smile. He knew he was lying. Tor had used that pseudonym many times in his runs to Ballust X, where he was a wanted man for accidentally killing the heir to the solar system's moon ore fortune.

"Something funny?" Tor didn't miss a trick.

"Not at all," said Donny. "I've just never met anyone from off planet."

Tor nodded. "Expecting little green men, huh? Only on the moons of Vega. Stupid little boogers. Smell like spacecraft exhaust. And that's after a shower."

Donny nodded; he knew. He had made them that way. "So those guys back there," he said. "Why are they after you?"

"Don't worry about it," said Tor. "Less you know, the better."

"Okay," said Donny. "So what can you tell me about... yourself?"

"Nothing to tell," said Tor.

"Okay," said Donny. "What about the cave world you mentioned?"

Tor smiled. "There is a planet called Arrax. It's largely uninhabitable, but it's covered in caves. No one really knows its exact location in the galaxy. But anyone can get anywhere they want through that planet."

"How?" Donny asked, knowing, but enjoying the moment.

"No one knows that either," said Tor. "But each cave serves as a bridge or a link to another world - which is how I came to your planet."

"Not just my planet. My school," said Donny. "The library, actually."

"Hmm," said Tor. "Always interesting, when a world discovers their portal, where it comes out. I heard there was one guy who found a cave that came out in the middle of a blazing volcano. He escaped, but not before having his eyebrows burned off."

Donny laughed, amused and yet puzzled. This was a story he was not aware of - one he had not written. Was this all a fabrication of his imagination? This encounter, this meal, the story of the volcano? Or was this world he had created a real place, vibrant and thriving outside his imagination?

They ate the rest of their meal in quiet. Tor developed a fondness for the Boysenberry syrup, so much so that Donny had to steal two more pitchers from other tables to satisfy his lust. The sick thing was he put it on everything: pancakes, bacon, hash browns, even steak. But Donny knew better than to slow the big man down.

Donny paid the bill, breathing a sigh of relief when his card went through that he had enough to cover Tor's appetite. They left IHOP and headed back toward the school. Ditching the car a few blocks away (just in case that old bat Mrs. Pugh was still on the grounds), they walked onto school property where, despite having left the place in the middle of battle, they were shocked to see it was surrounded by police, fire, and EMS workers. Most of the cars were gone from the lot, but a few students and faculty lingered to watch the carnage and/or get their faces on the five o'clock news.

"I think it was terrorists!" Donny heard Steve say to one of the local reporters. "I don't know what kind of guns they had, but they shot at me. Blew a hole in my English book, which is going to seriously keep me from getting my paper done."

A barricade ran the whole perimeter of the school. Tor sized up the SWAT team nearest the building. "Your military, they good shots?"

"Some of them, yeah," said Donny. "I wouldn't risk it."

Tor grunted. "We'll walk the perimeter. There's bound to be a weak spot."

"We can always come back later," said Donny.

"I can't stay," Tor told him. "I've got some serious damage control to do at home. Besides, I'm only going one way. Soon as I hit the cave, I'm gone."

They started walking, hoping to find an opening. Donny could tell it would not be easy. State and County police had responded to the scene as well as city. Fictional character or no, Donny was worried about Tor. He didn't want his hero blown away here in the real world. Talk about a dream killer.

They were rounding the back of the school when Tor froze, his face white as a sheet. Donny's stomach flipped. Anything that could make a tough space trader like Tor freeze up had to be truly bad. "Something wrong?"

Tor could barely get the words out. "It's her. How did she..."

Donny followed Tor's gaze until he spotted Bridget, looking absolutely radiant. She was alone, raised up on her toes, trying to get a better view of the school. Now Donny's face changed color – to beet red. He knew what Tor was thinking when he saw the cheerleader.

He saw Lita.

Tor swallowed hard, then started to approach Bridget. Donny tried to stop him. "Wait, no. Don't talk to her."

Tor looked back, stopping just a few yards away from Bridget. "You know who she is?"

"She's not who you think," said Donny.

Tor raised a suspicious eyebrow. "How do you know..."

Donny looked at his classmate, who turned to him and walked over. "Donny?"

"Hey, Bridget," said Donny, ramming his hands in his pockets nervously. "How's it going?"

"Do you have any idea what happened?"

"Uhh, no," said Donny. "No clue. I wasn't even here."

"It was during school," said Bridget. "Did you cut class?"

"Yeah, I..." Donny trailed off, too nervous to finish the lie.

"Steve was a total jerk today," she said. "I'm really sorry I ever said anything to them. It was..." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I guess I was a jerk about that too."

"It's okay," said Donny.

Bridget looked up at Tor, who had not taken his eyes off her. "Hi," she said.

"Hello," said Tor.

"Bridget, have you met my Uncle? This is Uncle Tor." Oops. "Uncle Bob. I mean Uncle Bob."

"Nice to meet you," said Bridget.

"Indeed," said Tor. "Forgive my stare. You just... you look like someone I know."

"Really?" said Bridget.

"She's a princess."

Donny flushed bright red. Bridget smiled awkwardly. "You know a princess?"

"Oh, tons. Uncle Bob works beauty pageants all over the country," said Donny. He gave Tor a glance, and Tor nodded.

Bridget smiled and nodded, looking back and forth between the two guys. "I see. Well thank you for the compliment."

"We should go," said Donny. "Uncle Bob just wanted to see the school."

"Bye, Donny," said Bridget. She turned and walked back to her spot, surveying the school. Tor followed after Donny until they passed a large news van. Tor grabbed Donny by the collar and slammed him against the side of the van.

"Give me one reason not to kill you here and now!" Tor demanded.

"What the—"

"How do you know my name?"

"I don't—"

"You called me Uncle Tor. I heard you!"

Donny swallowed hard.

"Why does that girl look so much like Princess Lita? And don't insult my intelligence saying you don't know who she is."

"Okay, okay," said Donny, his mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he respond? He couldn't tell Tor that he had dreamed him up on a vacation to Charleston, South Carolina when he was bored. He couldn't tell Tor he had a twenty page biography of him in a fireproof file cabinet at home. Who could possibly accept such a truth?

"I do know who you are," said Donny. "And I want to help you."

"If you know who I am," said Tor," "You know I don't need help!"

"I have a map!" said Donny. "A map of Arrax. It's upstairs, where we met. In the library."

Tor loosened his grip. "I have plenty of maps. Why would I need yours?"

Donny looked into Tor's eyes. "I have a map with this cave on it. No other maps can show you how to get here. Or where you'll be when you get back."

Tor's grip loosened some more. "It's in there?"

"Unless something's happened to it," said Donny.

Tor holstered his weapon. "In that case, you're coming with me," he said.

Donny's stomach nearly threw his English muffin back out. Suddenly, it all hit him. He was going through a cave, to Arrax, with one of the most wanted men on the planet.

Unless the Squidnoks descending from the building across the street killed him first.

"Look out!" Donny shouted, pointing. Tor's weapon was out and firing before he had sight of the deadly hunting machines. He got two of them before grabbing Donny and running for the school.

The police on the perimeter of the school began firing - some at Tor, but most at the Squidnoks, who blasted their way across the lawn in response to the gunfire aimed at them. Reporters and by-standers who had waited and wondered what had caused such damage to the school now fled for their lives.

Tor and Donny hit the stairs inside the school. They raced down the hall to the library, Tor in the lead with his gun out. He stunned three policemen just outside the library before any of them could shoot back.

Once in the library, Donny ran ahead to his Fortress of Solitude. The cops had left everything where it was. He grabbed his files scattered on the floor and shoved them into his backpack. He ran back out to find Tor holding off a group of Squidnoks breaking the windows and re-entering the library.

"You got your map?" Tor asked.

"It's in the bag," said Donny.

"This way!" Tor drug Donny around the corner. Donny was amazed at what he saw. Where once a wall stood holding a poster of Yoda urging young folks like him to read more, he saw a gaping hole, a smoke-filled opening in not just a wall – but space itself.

Donny wanted to take a moment. He wanted to say something profound, as he crossed the threshold from the world in which he was born to the world he had created. Instead, Donny screamed along with Tor as they ran for their lives into the fog and blackness.
**Chapter Three:  
Lariat**

There are two kinds of beings in the universe: those who have never set foot on another world, and those who have. It is, logically, impossible for those who are in the latter group to become a part of the former, as, having been off world, they can never again say they have never been off world. Consequently it is almost impossible for members of the latter group to make a good case, pro or con, to those in the former as to whether they should make the leap and visit another world because there is simply no easy way for one who has been off-world to describe to one who has not what it is like when you step on another world for the first time.

For Tor it was nothing to step from one world to the next. He had long since lost count of how many backwater dust balls and two-bit moons he had traversed, and he had absolutely no sense of the wonder, awe, and terror that greeted Donny as he stepped from the dark cave into the light of Arrax. For his part, Donny equated the sensation to that of driving into Canada for the first time in his parents' mini-van. It looked like America, a lot like America, and yet, something felt different. There were no maple leaves flying high where the stars and stripes ought to be on Arrax, but the feeling was pretty much the same.

"Okay, map boy," said Tor. "You know this place so well. Where to?"

Donny surveyed the landscape. It was just as he envisioned it, a desert land full of hills and caves. Each cave stood open, a gaping black hole that led from this barren land to another place.

Donny looked down at his map. He looked back at the cave that led to Earth. He looked out on the rocky terrain.

"Sorry," he said. "It's a lot different in person than on my map."

"But it's accurate, right?"

Donny looked back at the Earth cave, then at the cave across from them. "One way to find out." He started forward. Tor watched him walk toward the other cave.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he snarled, a hand on his sidearm.

"I just need to get my bearings," he said. "You coming?"

"I can't very well let you walk off with the only map, can I?" Tor stepped behind Donny as they both approached the cave. They walked into the blackness together, the cool cave air drawing them forward. There was a rushing sound like wind, then the coolness gave way to warmth, and the darkness to sun light.

A brilliant, hot sun bore down on the travelers as they stepped out on a flat, desert planet. Tumbleweeds blew past them. A small stand beside the cave opening, half-crumbled, supported a brass spittoon with a sign attached: "Cave toll, 2 bits." Beside the sign lay the bones of what was most likely at one time a well-meaning toll taker.

A low-flying vehicle nearly took Tor's head off as it flew over the cave. The strange craft – Donny had only seen such a thing in his crude sketches – looked like an old stagecoach retrofitted with hover-booster engines underneath. A driver sat in the back, facing front. The door on the side rose, and two vicious looking, seven foot tall furry creatures with six arms apiece stepped out. The one with long tusks – the male - paid the driver, who then hoisted their luggage off the top of the coach. He then fired up his boosters and was off.

Another vehicle roared up behind them out of the cave, a green car with large tires similar to those of Tor's old rover. A green-skinned servant got out and loaded the luggage, bowing and scraping before his master and mistress, as he loaded them up. Quickly as the green car came, they were gone back through the cave.

"You got your bearings yet?" Tor asked.

"I do," said Donny.

"Then where are we?"

"You tell me," said Donny, offering Tor the map.

"I don't need a map for that. We're on Lariat."

Donny smiled. "Yes we are."

Tor looked at Donny inquisitively. "You don't strike me as the kind that visits a rat hole like Lariat."

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't, but coming here was the only way to figure out which end is up on this map," said Donny.

"I have a compass," said Tor.

"My way's more fun," Donny shrugged.

Tor frowned. "Your way would get a man killed. But since we're here, shall we grab a drink for the road?"

Donny shrugged. The nearest town, Pecos, was barely a mile from the cave. It was home to outlaws, desperadoes, and Urno's Place, a bar known throughout the galaxy as the meanest, roughest place to get a drink. You were just as likely to get shot as you were to quench your thirst at Urno's. And that was on a good day.

Donny could feel his sinuses clear as he took in the dry, desert air. A thousand years before, this had been a world rich in natural resources, two-thirds of it covered with water.

Then the Warlords came. They arrived by spaceship, traveling three light years from their original home world, a place long ruined by their excess and waste. In barely five hundred years they had stripped the world of its resources, and its beauty. While preparing to leave Lariat by ship,, the Warlords discovering the cave leading to Arrax. It didn't take long for them to realize the strategic advantage such a planet offered. They left by way of the cave, never to return.

The absence of any presence or even interest by the Warlords made Lariat one of the few safe harbors for fugitives. The blue-skinned warriors never set foot here; they were content to leave their enemies be, knowing they'd probably die anyway on the wildest, deadliest rock on the map.

The town of Pecos had one street, lined on either side with old buildings, forged from trees that no longer grew here. Holes in walls and foundations blasted away were patched with scrap metal and other salvage taken from crashed, stolen, or otherwise confiscated vehicles.

Tor took a deep breath, taking it all in. "You smell that?"

Donny took a long whiff. He could smell some sort of meat cooking over mesquite – at least that's how Donny's Earth-trained nose interpreted the scent. "Smells delicious."

"Not the food," said Tor. "It's freedom." Tor took it in a moment longer. "But you got a point. The grub smells amazing."

"Let's get a burger," said Donny.

Urno's Place was an amalgam of every saloon Donny had ever seen in a Wild West movie. The place was all wood except for the long mirror running the length of the bar. Hundreds of bottles filled with multi-colored beverages from throughout the galaxy lined the shelf under the mirror. It was dusty, broken down, definitely not the kind of place you walked into unarmed, like Donny.

The one big difference between this joint and a John Wayne movie set was the clientele. Aliens of all shapes, sizes, textures, and yes, smells were at the bar, around tables, and in the back watching some sort of lobster woman dance while a creature with eight purple tentacles extending from his wide chin pounded music out of an out of tune piano.

Tor grinned ear to ear at the sight of things. He ordered two glasses of Mercurial Firewater and handed one to Donny. Donny gazed at the yellow liquid nervously, wishing to himself that it might taste like his favorite soda back on Earth.

Donny took his first sip – and grinned. "Hey, this tastes like Mountain Dew!" he said.

"Never heard of it," said Tor. "But if it tastes as good as this, I'd like to try it."

Tor made his way to the Space Poker table. The table was already full. Two shifty-looking humanoids, an Arcturian, a Solarian, and a Mongol-Herculan were deep into the bidding on their latest hand. The Arcturian folded first, followed by the two humans. The Solarian stared into the Mongol-Herculan's six eyes, watching the beads of sweat slide down his translucent skin. The Mongol-Herculan called. The Solarian laid down a full house. The Mongol-Herculan grunted in annoyance. Then, as the Solarian reached across the table to gather his winnings, six face cards fell out of his sleeve.

The Solarian was on his feet in a heartbeat. A heartbeat later, his gun was in hand, but too late. The other four players shredded him to pieces with their side arms.

Without missing a beat, a Morgue-bot launched from its storage hatch beneath the bar, scooped up the body, mopped up the blood, and was off to dispose of the body before Tor could reset the Solarian's chair and sit down.

"Looks like you're short a man," said Tor. "Mind if I sit in?"

The Arcturian examined Tor closely. "You're new here."

"I am, my armored friend," said Tor as he dropped a roll of cash on the table. "But I assume you've seen these before."

The humans traded a look. The Mongol-Herculan nodded his assent.

"Okay, you're in," said the Arcturian, shuffling the cards.

"What's your name, stranger?" the taller human growled.

"Hobbes. Tor Hobbes," he said.

The Mongol-Herculan growled something Donny could not understand.

"That's right, I did," said Tor.

The Mongol-Herculan growled once more, clapping the trader on the shoulder. "That's kind of you, but really, it was no big deal. They paid me a lot of money for that run."

Donny didn't want to make the card players more nervous or itchy than they already were. He wandered to the back to catch a bit of the lobster woman – a sight that wasn't nearly as funny as he imagined it would be when he first drew it up on vacation the previous summer.

Donny sat at a table in the back corner. He took a tentative sip of the firewater as he took in his surroundings. It was all so real, far too real to be just a dream. Yet how could this NOT be a dream? Everything he saw, every creature, every location, he had either drawn or written about.

Well, not everything. Donny noticed the back wall of the bar was covered in graffiti, hundreds of messages left behind by traders, outlaws, and whomever else happened to stagger into Urno's with something to say. There were cries for rebellion against the Warlords, wanted notices from people with grudges, death threats from people with vendettas, and gang signs.

Donny shook his head. This was a living, vibrant universe, expanding and growing even beyond his imagination. These people didn't just exist; they lived, with hopes, dreams, and fears to motivate them. Even the table had markings on it. Right in the center, someone had carved three words:

"He is coming."

A bald, yellow-skinned man in a tight-fitting outfit took a seat beside Donny. The man had no ears, no nose, and gills. Donny knew immediately he was from the water planet of Oceanica.

"Doreen's very pretty, isn't she?" said the yellow man.

Donny glanced up at the lobster woman. "I've never seen anything like her."

"I couldn't help notice the gleam in your eye, watching her," said the yellow man. "Just thought I would warn you, you touch her and I will kill you."

Donny's stomach fell right through the floor. "Sir, I have no intention of—"

"The name is Kirsh," said the yellow man.

"Kirsh Kitner?" Donny knew the name well. The man was one of the most wanted criminals in the known galaxy – and the wrong guy to draw attention to by blurting his name out. Suddenly all eyes were on Kirsh, standing with his hand on his sidearm, glaring at Donny and the rest of the bar.

"This doesn't concern any of you," said Kirsh. "Go back to your drinks!"

Tor made his way toward the back. "You have a problem with my friend, you have a problem with me."

Kirsh seethed with anger. "Who are you?"

"Tor Hobbes," said Tor.

"You know who I am?" asked Kirsh.

"I don't give a Turragho's kidney who you are," said Tor. "You could be Tarre Kahn and I'd tell you the same thing. Touch the kid, and I kill you."

A murmur rose in the bar. To even speak the name of Tarre Kahn was considered bad luck. Many believed that the emperor of Arrax was psychic, and would show up any place his name was spoken. Tor didn't believe a word of it. He'd had enough drunken tirades cursing the name Tarre Kahn for hours to know it was bunk.

Kirsh smiled. If he was intimidated, he was doing a remarkable acting job hiding it. "Take your kid," he said. "And get off this rock."

Kirsh gave Donny a shove toward Tor. The room was silent, every eye glued on Tor.

Tor turned, pushing Donny ahead of him, and walked back to the game table.

"I'll be taking my winnings," said Tor.

The Mongol-Herculan howled. The Arcturian glared at Tor through his visor. "You left the table in mid-hand. All winnings are forfeit!"

Tor flipped his cards over to reveal a four of a kind. Outraged, the two human card players drew their weapons. It was the last thing they would ever do, as Tor ventilated them with his Ultairian blaster. The Mongol-Herculan struck Tor in the chest, his powerful arm sending the huge man crashing into the bar. Donny ran for cover as weapons were drawn and angry aliens itching for a brawl moved in on Tor. Tor dropped a flash-bomb on the floor. The blast blinded and stunned the angry mob just long enough for Tor to bulldoze his way through the crowd.

Donny got up to follow Tor, but his escape was cut off by Kirsh, gun drawn and pointed at Donny's face. "If your eye causes you to sin," he said, "Pluck it out."

Without thought, Donny quickly kicked Kirsh square between the legs. The yellow man gasped and buckled under the pain. Tor grabbed Donny by the collar and threw him out a window, his four hundred pounds of bulk close behind.

"Head for the cave, kid!" Tor shouted. Donny was amazed at Tor's speed. He could move well for a big man, far better than poor asthmatic Donny could ever hope to run. Tor did his best to help, grabbing Donny by the shirt and dragging him. Donny knew full well Tor would stand a better chance stealing the map and leaving him to die; he also knew Tor was not the kind of person to leave a man behind to die without reason.

Donny could see the mob closing in on them. If they reached the cave, they were home free; none of the bandits in this mob would dare take a chance on the home world of the Warlords. But they were still a mile away, in the middle of a desert, full of sand.

This would be a good time for a sand storm, he thought to himself.

No sooner did he think it, the dust beneath his feet began to swirl. The wind picked up, and the sand started rising, higher and higher. Within seconds a huge cloud of dust had risen from the desert floor, separating Tor and Donny from their pursuers.

Hearing the noise, Tor stopped to take a look. There was no sign of the mob from Urno's Place. There was only sand, swirling like madly a hundred feet in the air. But where Tor and Donny stood, they hardly felt a breeze.

"How the devil did that happen?" said Tor. He looked at Donny. "C'mon, kid. It may not last."

They made their way to the cave and crawled into the darkness. The bright sun of Arrax greeted them on the other side. Tor grabbed his knees, breathing heavily.

"Man," he said. "Now that's what I call a good waterin' hole."

Donny could only gasp, trying to catch his breath.

"Okay," said Tor. "Where to?"

"You tell me," said Donny. "Where do you want to go?"

Tor thought a moment. "Goram Six."

Donny pulled out his map. After verifying their position with the Earth cave, he pointed out over the horizon. "That way. Due east."

Tor turned east and began to lead the way. Donny kept the map out, mentally checking off the cave entrances as he went. Try as he might, he couldn't focus on the task very long. Two things were nagging him:

The firewater tasting like Mountain Dew.

The sandstorm that came from nowhere the moment he thought about it.

It could all be coincidence. He had never specified what Mercurial Firewater tasted like. And Lariat suffered sandstorms all the time. There was really nothing remarkable about either occurrence. And yet Donny couldn't shake the feeling inside.

It was no coincidence; he had made two things happen merely by wishing for them.
**Chapter Four:  
The Ruins**

If you were a wanted man looking to hide out, get lost, and never be found, you went to Lariat. If you were a wanted man looking for a ship, a new gun, or a new job, you went to Goram Six.

Considering that Goram Six – one of the wealthiest banking communities in the known galaxy of Arrax – was the first planet to fall to the Warlords, you would think it would be a more dangerous place for illegal activity. The truth is on Goram Six, money talked, and to the Goram Sixers, illegal money spoke the same language just as honestly.

A guy as wanted as Tor could do quite well using Goram Six as a base of operations – if he could afford it. Goram Six officials took big bites to look the other way, but the Goram Sixers considered them as invaluable as the traders who paid them. A successful trader like Tor would net a wily government official far more money in the long run than the one time reward for turning such a bandit in. No one on Goram Six had to have the fable of the goose that laid the golden egg explained to them.

Tor had cash, vehicles, weapons, and other resources stashed all over Goram Six. He'd be back in business in no time – if he could survive the Arraxian desert long enough to get there. Arrax offered the most forbidding and unfriendly environment of any world in the known universe, which is why there was no one to even raise a single objection when the Warlords moved in and declared themselves sovereign.

That's not to say that Arrax hadn't seen its share of would be entrepreneurs attempting to stake their claim. Long before the Warlord invasion, a group of venture capitalists from Betelgeuse 5 tried to set up a five-star resort amongst the caves and cliffs, complete with a water park, a zero gravity rec center, and a high end strip mall. Sadly, the entire venture collapsed and went bankrupt when, on opening day, one of the few native residents of the Cave World, and Arraxian dragon, stumbled into the lobby and proceeded to devour the first wave of tourists, along with their friendly, highly-trained resort staff.

A century of lawsuits followed the tragic incident at the ill-fated "Arrax Heights." The resort and the world around it lay dormant until the Warlords claimed it. Clearly, no one was thinking when they let Tarre Kahn and his ruthless people waltz in and assume power. Had they known Kahn's true motivation – to control the galaxy – they might have done something to stop him. Instead they turn away, shook their heads and ignorantly mused, "Well, who wants to live in Arrax anyway?"

Donny had forgotten the story of Arrax Heights, but when he spotted the ruins after several hours of walking, he shouted with joy.

"Check it out, kid," said Tor. "I can't believe it's still here."

Tor and Donny walked into the decrepit remains of the old lobby. In its glory day, the glass ceiling above was held in place by a gold-plated frame. Large pieces of flawless marble and limestone once formed the walls and floors of this first-class establishment of yesteryear. They were long gone now, replaced by the dust and rock of Arrax.

"This was quite a place," said Donny. Tor turned back to his young companion, who then added the words, "Wasn't it?"

"I would have loved to see this place in its glory," said Tor. "Not that a place like this would ever let scum like me inside."

They continued on, checking room to room for signs of life. "Sometimes you get raiders in here, or vagrants," said Tor. "If you're lucky, you wake up with nothing but your underwear on."

"And if you're unlucky?"

"You never wake up at all," said Tor.

They came to what was once destined to be the grand ballroom. Like everything else in this dead resort it was lifeless, and nearly empty. Nearly, because in the dead center of the room lay the skeletal remains of an Arraxian dragon.

Tor let out a low whistle. "You don't see this often," he said, moving in for a closer look. "These big boys have their own graveyards full of bones." Tor ran his hand over the cranium of the great beast, letting his fingers come to rest on a giant hole. "Vulcan cannon," he said. "Warlords."

Donny looked around, spooked, as if he had heard some far off sound. "You think it's safe here?"

"Safe as any place," said Tor. "All the nearby caves lead to occupied territory. I'd rather stay below Tarre Kahn's radar a while longer."

"You think they have rooms available?" said Donny.

It took Tor a few seconds to get the boy was joking. He smiled. "I'm sure we can find a vacancy some place."

They found a guest room that was still reasonably comfortable. The dry air of Arrax had kept the amenities from molding. It wasn't five star, but being refugees, they really couldn't complain. Tor pulled out some emergency rations and tossed a pack to Donny. To his delight, it wasn't terrible tasting. Kinda like that nasty looking yet delicious pizza they served in his elementary school cafeteria years ago.

"If you don't mind me asking," said Donny, "How did you end up on Earth?"

Tor shrugged. "Took a wrong turn."

"They were chasing you," said Donny. "The squid-things."

"Squidnoks," said Tor. "Yeah. Seems my last partner in crime was working against me and my famous client and tried to turn us both over to the Warlords."

"What happened to your client?"

Tor sighed. "I'm pretty sure they got her."

Donny's stomach did a flip. "The princess?"

Tor looked up, stared hard at the boy. "Yeah. It was her."

"What will they do to her?" Donny asked.

The big man shrugged. "Tarre Kahn's been after her longer than me. Whatever he does, won't be pretty."

The thought of Tarre Kahn, the emperor of the galaxy, holding the princess prisoner sent a shiver down Donny's spine. It was the first time it dawned on him that if Arrax, Tor, Lita, and the rest of this galaxy was for real, the mighty Tarre Kahn was also real. The centuries old Warlord had come to power amongst his on people via a trail of blood and torture. It was he who led his people from the dustbowl of Lariat to Arrax, where he began to build out his galactic empire. His skill as a warrior was unmatched. His cruelty boundless. His quest for power unquenchable.

It looked cool on paper. In real life, however, Donny decided the idea of Tarre Kahn was absolutely terrifying.

"So what's your story?" said Tor, once he'd had enough to eat.

"Not much to tell," said Donny. "I'm from Earth. Have two parents, no siblings." He wondered if his parents would be missing him about now. Did time move the same pace here as it did on Earth? Even if it did, his parents were busy people, and they were used to Donny staying out late with friends, sometimes overnight. They weren't exactly parents of the year; lucky for them, Donny was a pretty good kid who, aside from this recent jaunt into another world, pretty much stayed out of trouble.

Tor smiled. "Where'd you find the map?"

"In a book," he blurted out. "A science fiction book on Earth." It wasn't a total lie; Donny had been working on his Cave World novel for years. He intended to have the Arraxian map on the inside cover, just like Tolkien did with the Lord of the Rings books.

"Science fiction?" said Tor.

"Well, the cave idea's..." Donny paused, thinking through his answer. It was critical there be some truth in the lies; Tor was an excellent reader. "It's not that no one's heard of it. It's just not widely accepted yet."

"There's something you're not telling me," said Tor.

Donny shrugged. "There's not much to tell."

"There's enough," said Tor. "I'll get it out of you if I need it."

"You're not worried about me..."

"Betraying me? Ha!" Tor laughed. "You're not sharp enough to be working for the Blues. You've got secrets, but you're harmless."

Had it come from Bridget, Donny would have been crushed. But "harmless" was a good assessment when you're dealing with a dangerous man. Tor settled in on the floor and shut his eyes. It was a light sleep; Donny knew the kind of man Tor was better than Tor knew himself. All the better to sense danger before it can sense you.

As the twin suns of Arrax set, Donny found he was anything but tired. He was energized, completely blown away at this real world he had created. Rather than lay in the dark and risk disturbing Tor, Donny decided it might be better to spend his sleeplessness away from the deadly marksman. Tor was a good guy, but he was a good guy who would shoot first and ask questions later if startled.

He walked down the dark hallway, lit by the moonlight pouring through the holes in the ceiling. The place had been lived-in and ransacked a hundred times over throughout the centuries. Graffiti was legible on some surfaces, including a few that echoed the words he had read on Lariat: "He is coming."

For some reason, the words bothered the young sci-fi writer. They were not his words, and try as he might, he could not imagine who the "He" referred to, nor why such a phrase would appear in two unlikely places. Could it be a warning from the past of Tarre Kahn's ascent to power? Or was there someone else – someone not even he could have dreamed up – waiting in the wings for their cue to enter?

Donny peered into the ancient ballroom at the dragon's remains. He was surprised there were no more remains other than the Arraxian dragon in the halls. Perhaps scavengers had cleaned the place out. Some sentient beings in this universe were highly sought after as cadavers for the medicinal purposes. The Rakins of Terminuus B, a brilliant but evil race with translucent skin, large craniums, and dual-pupiled eyes who seemed to never fall ill were particularly prized as their bones were known to act as a deterrent to all airborne diseases. Even Tor had collected bounties on these mysterious beings in his early days before the Warlords banned such trade, a concession made to Tarre Kahn's chief science minister, Dr. Cyn.

Donny shuddered to think such evil could actually exist. Was it possible? He never dreamed that all this could be real, and yet as he reached out to touch the ancient walls of this former paradise, he couldn't deny the sensation sent back from his fingers.

Arrax is real.

Tor Hobbes and Princess Lita are real.

Tarre Kahn, Dr. Cyn, and the Warlords are real.

Donny felt an icy chill run through the hall. Was it the night air? Or was it true that the fearsome Warlord ruler could chill a man at the very mention of his name? For years, Donny had worked on Tarre Kahn's biography, telling horrific tales of torture and brutality unthinkable on his safe Earth planet. Now, here he stood on the very rock that the blue demon called home. He had not only opened a doorway to come into Tarre Kahn's world; he had created a door by which the monster could reach Earth.

He shook it off. He knew this universe existed at his pleasure. He created it; surely he had the power to destroy it. What other powers did he possess?

The thought came so quickly it surprised him. Did he possess supernatural powers in this universe? It seemed such a strange coincidence, the dust storm riding like it did. It didn't behave like a random storm either; it was as if some sentient mind controlled it, forcing the dust of Arrax to do his bidding.

Then there was the drink he sampled in Urno's. There was no reason whatsoever for the drink to taste like his favorite beverage. He had never written a word as to the taste of such a drink. And yet, billions of light years from home, he knew he had tasted Mountain Dew.

Donny sat beside the dragon, leaning against a massive rib bone for support. Seeing a small rock about ten feet away, Donny reached out his hand. He closed his eyes and called out for the rock. He felt a surge run through his body, and for a moment, he expected to open his eyes with the rock in hand. When he finally did open his eyes, the rock was still in its place.

So much for Jedi mind tricks.

Donny tilted his head back. Maybe it was all coincidence. The dust storm, the drink, it was just his imagination, just like everything else in this strange world. Or perhaps his power was limited. Now that he existed within the world of his dreams, he had to live by its rules as much as any other being. He couldn't do whatever he wanted, but if he had contact with an object like the drink, like the sand...

A loud snort disrupted his train of thought. Donny felt another chill on the back of the neck. It wasn't the wind; this time it felt more like scales. He couldn't breathe. He was too terrified to move. Finally, he forced his head to rotate, slowly, until he could see the massive head of the dragon lifting off the ground, its nostrils detecting food nearby.

Donny leapt from his spot on the floor and ran hard down the hallway. The dragon roared a high-pitched noise that sounded like an elephant singing with vibrato. Donny felt the ground beneath him shake as the dragon began to move, following the scent towards its prey.

Donny ran straight into Tor has he ran out of the room. "Find something interesting, kid?" he said.

Donny couldn't speak. He pointed. Another roar was all Tor needed to formulate a plan of action. "Kid, RUN!!"

They both ran full speed down the hallway. The dragon pursued them with a hungry vengeance, its mighty tail crumbling the walls of the hallway in its wake. Tor fired two laser blasts at the beast, hoping to slow it, before crashing through and escape door into the cool Arraxian night.

With the beast hot on their heels, there was no time to think or plan. Tor led Donny down the canyon towards the first cave he saw.

"Where does this lead?" Donny shouted.

"Who cares, just go!" Tor shouted.

They plunged into the darkness of the cave, slowing just a bit to avoid tripping. The hole was large enough that the dragon could follow, but if they could make the other end, it might give them enough space to avoid being sniffed out. They finally saw light and ran straight toward it.

Then they froze.

The blood red skies of Vishluna cast a grim light on the scene before them. Thousands of Vishlunans stood in row after row, chained at the neck, ready for transport. Despite their muscular bodies and seven-foot frames, the gray, hairless Vishlunans were a passive, peaceful people, making them ideal candidates for slaves.

By contrast, the short, hairy, fanged Garbarrian traders who made their living gathering and selling slaves were as unpleasant and aggressive a species as you could imagine. But like most sentient creatures, they valued money, and they stood to gain a high price for such a bounty of slaves.

"Freeze you!" A Garbarrian scout pushed a large-barreled laser in Donny's face. Another quickly put a similar weapon in the face of Tor. "Move not, both of you."

"Wouldn't dare," said Tor, ever the cool one. "We're not here to interfere with your business."

"Be that so?" said the first Garbarrian. "Why make way to this world in such fast?"

"I heard there was a good game today," Tor quipped.

"Perhaps you have price on head," said the second guard. "Me give your name, now!"

Tor didn't have to answer. The Arraxian dragon emerged through the cave and devoured the second guard with one deadly pounce. The Garbarrians turned their attention and their weapons on the deadly beast. The dragon fired back with a blast of blue flame of its own.

Tor leapt into action, killing three Garbarrians with his blaster as he raced toward the Vishlunan prisoners. Tor disabled the electric chains that held the Vishlunans in place, setting the would-be slaves free to run for their lives.

Tor raced back toward Donny, five of the Vishlunans in tow. "What are you doing?" Donny shouted.

"The slave traders will be more interested in them than us! Let's move!"

"Where are we going?" Donny shouted over the chaos and mayhem.

"Out of this hole," said Tor.

They ran as far wide of the battle with the dragon as they could, turned sharply and headed straight for the cave. The slave traders caught sight of them just before they reached safety and picked off two Vishlunans before they all made it safely into the cave.

Donny could hear the loud breathing of the Vishlunans behind him as the darkness engulfed them once again. "Almost free, fellas," said Tor. "Of course once we get out of this cave, we'll have to find a place to lay low. Your captors will probably come--"

Tor stopped. Donny and the Vishlunans stopped. They had reached the mouth of the cave and could see the dry landscape of Arrax. Before them, a long air train stood waiting to receive the Vishlunan slaves from the Garbarrians. Around the air train a brigade of Warlord soldiers stood armed and waiting, their guns trained on the fugitives from Vishluna. Then, in the early morning light, Donny caught sight of the deadly chopper Arkangel gliding over the mouth of the cave.

A fierce looking Warlord in a general's uniform and an eye patch approached Tor.

"Tor Hobbes, I presume. This is an unexpected pleasure."

"Kai Hoek," said Tor. "Pleasure to see you too. How's that one dimensional vision thing working out for you?"

Donny winced; it was typical Tor, but a foolish thing to say to the man whose eye he had plucked out with a razor-sharp spike. Kai only smiled back, but Donny knew that grin was anything but friendly.

Kai looked at the Vishlunans. "Where are the rest?"

"Running for their lives," said Tor.

"You set them free?"

"I had to," said Tor. "Otherwise, the dragon would have slaughtered them all."

"The dragon?"

"An Arraxian dragon, sir," said Tor.

"An Arraxian dragon?" said Kai. "Where in the world did you find an Arraxian dragon?"

Tor laughed. "If I knew I would tell you."

Kai turned to a junior officer. "Sergeant, take a squad through the cave. Destroy the dragon, if it's still alive. Round up what slaves you can, and kill the traders." The sergeant snapped in salute, then led his men into the cave.

Tor remained cool, unflappable. "How about we blow this scene and go grab a drink for old time's sake?"

Kai leered at him. "Surely. Gentlemen, please step into my ride."

With a gesture of his hand, Arkangel descended to the ground. The side door rose outward, and Kai directed Tor, Donny, and the Vishlunans aboard. Arkangel lifted off into the sun, carrying Donny into a frightening, unknown future.
**Chapter Five:  
The Fortress**

As a fan of Darth Vader, Hannibal Lecter, and that Hans guy from Die Hard, Donny knew the key to any great story was a truly great villain. Consequently, Donny had invested hundreds of hours into developing the back story of the Warlords. A violent and fierce race by nature, their origin and home world were long lost to ancient memory. Their legacy was conquest; their method, brutality. They never settled into a life of leisure. Thus, they had no culture to speak of: no arts, no music, no literature. Even historical records were of no interest to them; in fact the only solid facts recorded about the Warlords were written by other races, usually survivors of their various conquests.

The Warlords lived for battle and bloodshed. They invested their time and treasure into nothing else. Everything else they needed was stolen. Yet despite their scavenger tendencies, the Warlords did know how to make an impression on visitors.

The castle of Tarre Kahn was the most frightening and evil place in the known galaxy. Pieced together from the great architectural works of other races, the castle was a patchwork of stone and metal that stretched high above the Arraxian terrain. Despite its makeshift construction, the place had the general look and feel that made a casual visitor feel like they'd rather be in the belly of a hungry Arraxian dragon with indigestion.

There were no soft or round edges. No traces of color, no banners, nothing welcoming in sight. Everything was sharp, pointed, menacing. Monstrous gargoyles plundered from the now extinct Sidfannis system were perched precariously atop towers that leaned dangerously forward from the main façade. Giant laser cannons, missile systems, rocket launchers, and proton catapults faced out in every direction as if daring any would-be attacker to give them a reason to fire at will. It was enough fire power that the fortress didn't even need a force field, but the castle had one just the same. Tarre Kahn was arrogant and proud, but he was no fool.

Seeing the mighty fortress in three dimensions, more vivid than even his imagination could capture, Donny cursed the day he got that detention and spent two hours designing the wicked structure. That, coupled with the cunning of the castle's lord and master, made this a place more dangerous than gym class during archery week.

The Warlord pilot brought Arkangel in toward the fortress from the West, the standard approach for the bird of prey, so that the prisoners in back could get a good look at the castle. As was the custom, the pilot also opened the hatch on the floor of the helicopter as they flew over the Valley of Spikes, an ominous natural formation of millions of hundred-foot tall spikes that Donny added to the planet's landscape after seeing something similar in a movie.

"It's a coward's way," said one of the Vishlunans. He nodded to the open hatch. "A last chance to avoid the evil of Tarre Kahn's castle." Indeed, the Warlords in the front of the helicopter seemed to be watching in anticipation, hoping one or more of their prisoners would take their own life on the spikes below rather than face their feared leader. Donny could make out some rotting corpses dangling from a few spikes below. It took everything in Donny's power not to smile at this. Despite the frightening reality that surrounded him and his own knowledge of the doom that lay ahead, Donny found it hard not to smile, amused at how his richly detailed villains behaved exactly as he had first described them in the pages of a college-ruled notebook.

The pilot shut the hatch as Arkangel pitched again, aiming for the South hangar. The Warlords turned toward home, disappointed there were no suicides but comforted to know they would soon see some carnage.

Donny turned to the stoic Vishlunans. "Sorry we couldn't be more help."

One of the three turned to Donny. "There is no reason to apologize. What happened was meant to be. The conquest of our world was one of the signs."

"Signs of what?" Donny asked.

"Their days are coming to a close," one of the Vishlunans said. "First Vishluna falls, then Tarre Kahn. We welcome our destruction, and we look forward to what comes next."

Donny was confused. Again, this was nothing he had written, nothing he'd even imagined. "How do you know this?"

"It's a lot of religious nonsense," Tor growled.

"The Brotherhood assures us, the time is at hand," said another Vishlunan. "The Warlords cannot stop it. No one can."

Donny was surprised by the response. The Brotherhood of Gordo was a secretive religious order established on the planet Lusana. Donny had written very little about these monks, whom he described as the keepers of ancient wisdom and knowledge. How the Vishlunans had come to know of them and their teachings was just as much a mystery as this prophecy they claimed was about to come true.

Too bad it wasn't happening already, Donny thought, before he and Tor were sucked into the belly of the evil place in all existence.

The chopper's landing was soft and smooth, a contrast to the rough treatment Donny and the other prisoners received as they were yanked out of the chopper. Donny saw Kai Hoek, his blaster aimed at the soft spot under Tor's chin, watching from the side as Donny and the Vishlunans were chained together at the neck.

"You should let the runt go," said Tor, so cool you'd never know he had a gun barrel under his jaw. "He's not with me. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"He was with you in the wrong place at the wrong time," Kai hissed. "Such people are never innocent."

Tor caught Donny's eye and shrugged. He tried. Donny wasn't sure he wanted to be released just yet. He had always dreamed of what this castle would look like rendered by the computer wizards at Industrial Light and Magic. He was about to see for himself in three-dimensional reality.

Once again the predominant sensation coming at him was the smell. The place reeked of rotting flesh and death. The guards led them through the Hall of War with its massive forty-foot columns. Crucifixes lined the hall just inside from the columns, dying or dead prisoners nailed to the majority of them. Donny still remembered the Sunday School lesson when he learned how the Romans lined the roads outside their towns with crosses as a deterrent to criminals. It seemed a fun detail to add to his world at the time, especially the multi-limbed crosses for multi-limbed creatures.

Now all he felt was sorrow as he witnessed these poor creatures – creatures he had invented – suffering such a cruel death. What's worse, they were suffering at the hands of the Warlords, people Donny created to be cruel, ruthless, and deadly. Donny felt a deep sense of guilt as looked upon the dead and the dying. No, he had not made them to suffer, but he had set them in a world with a terrible evil that thrived on the sufferings of others.

Two mismatched, hundred foot doors opened ahead of them, pushed aside by a pair of giant cyclopses. The giants drooled on the tiny prisoners, perhaps hoping for a snack. Such treats were an amusement to the ruler of Arrax, the only man evil enough to command the submissive obedience of a dog from these terrible giants.

A small gallery of on-lookers stood on either side of the prisoners' entrance. Most of the faces were blue, hostile, save for one. Donny spotted him right away, the man with the giant fleshy head with two pupils in each eye. The maniacal genius known as Dr. Cyn was always scouting the prisoners in Tarre Kahn's throne room. As many experiments as he had going at a time, he was always in search of healthy, diverse test subjects.

Donny and the Vishlunans were lined up facing a throne that stood on a pillar at the center of the room. Two female Warlords sat on either side of the throne, attending to the every whims of the dark ruler of Arrax. Donny felt a harsh chill in his bones as the red eyes of Tarre Kahn touched him for the very first time. His evil was so great, it was physical. You could feel it. Donny was so sorry right now that he had given this demon such power.

"Commander Hoek," said Tarre Kahn. "Spoils of battle?"

"Tarre Kahn, ruler of the galaxy, we intercepted these slaves and this trader just outside the Vishlunan cave," said Kai. Donny noticed even he was trembling a bit with fear. "The trader and his human pet cost us a large shipment of these slaves."

Tarre Kahn glared down on Tor. "Tor Hobbes."

"Your excellency," Tor said with reverence, laced with a hint of disdain.

"We've been looking for you. I had thought to reward you for your assistance in the capture of Princess Lita."

"Your most evilness, you have my old partner to thank for that one," said Tor. "I hope you rewarded him well."

"I'm afraid he slipped away before I could dole out his just reward," said Tarre Kahn. "I had planned to put him in the arena with the woman he betrayed."

"Really?" Tor was shocked.

"A man who can betray you can betray me as well," said Tarre Kahn. "Like you, I never give a traitor a second chance. It's just too bad he robbed us of the pleasure of seeing the Princess make him suffer."

"Yeah," said Tor. "Too bad."

"The princess has grown strong in battle," said Tarre Kahn. "Soon she'll be fit for a duel with you. We look forward to that."

With a wave of his hand, Tarre Kahn dismissed Kai Hoek and Tor Hobbes. Donny saw them headed toward the eastern throne room door, towards the holding cells for Tarre Kahn's gladiator arena.

It was then that Donny realized he was alone, and completely at the mercy of the ruler of Arrax. The blue-skinned dictator had a sadistic gleam in his eyes as he looked on the Vishlunans. "My dear pets," he said. "Are you so eager to be free on your own? I offer you food and lodging in my work camps. Is my hospitality not appreciated?"

One of the Vishlunans spat on the ground, then snarled, "You have doomed yourself, Tarre Kahn!"

The guards gasped at the audacity of the Vishlunan who spoke against their leader. The girl on Tarre Kahn's left giggled at the insubordination. Tarre Kahn hardly flinched, remaining cool as ever as he gazed on the Vishlunan.

"Interesting point of view," he said. "Here I sit with your life in my hands, and you say that I am the one who is doomed."

"You can kill all of us," said the Vishlunan. "But you cannot save yourself. You know as well as I do the destruction of Vishluna means the prophecies are beginning. A new day is coming, and soon, He--"

He never finished the thought. Tarre Kahn drew his blaster and shot the Vishlunan dead, his body slumping to the floor like an empty wetsuit. The attendants and guards laughed. Tarre Kahn grinned, watching the Vishlunans lift their comrade's body so all remained standing they stood up.

"You slaves have spirit," said Tarre Kahn. "As I have never had the pleasure of seeing you in combat, I believe I will send you all to the arena. It will give my prize gladiator good practice before she takes on the man she blames for her capture."

"Vishlunans do not fight," said one of the others.

"You will," said Tarre Kahn. "Or you will all die. The first one of you to lay down his sword in the arena, I execute all of you. You will fight for your brothers, will you not?"

The mad scientist with the exceptionally large cranium stepped out of the gallery. "Your Excellency, allow me one of them. I have use for one in the lab."

"Granted," said Tarre Kahn. "Do you want the runt as well?"

Dr. Cyn looked Donny up and down. "He seems unremarkable to me. Send him to the arena with the other minnows."

Tarre Kahn turned his eyes to Donny. "You, boy. Where are you from?"

"My name is Donny," said Donny. "I am the prince of my world, a planet known as..." Best to fudge a little, just in case. "Barsoom."

"Lie," said Tarre Kahn. "I have been to Barsoom. The people look nothing like you. And you look nothing like royalty."

"Would you believe," said Donny. "They thought I might end up here and disguised me?"

Tarre Kahn thought a moment. "No, no I would not. But I admire your spirit. Therefore, I will give you opportunity to earn your release - in the arena. Five victories and I will release you."

Tarre Kahn signaled the guards, who took hold of the chain and began leading Donny and the Vishlunans to the holding area. Tarre Kahn called out to them, "Feed them well! I want them to fight tonight, and it may be their last meal."

Donny staggered behind the Vishlunans, who carried their fallen brother with them to the holding area. They were unchained and set free to roam in a tank cell with about a dozen others, all of whom sat with heads down, hopeless.

Donny knew why. These were the jobbers, the Jabronis of the arena. No one here was expected or intended to win. Oh sure, occasionally someone got a lucky break, or got cast in here by mistake. But these were minnows to be fed to sharks. He noticed Tor was not here, nor was Lita.

Lita. Seeing her would sure be interesting. She was the ultimate embodiment of Donny's five year crush back home – with the addition of advanced combat skills and fighting ability. Donny couldn't believe Tarre Kahn had actually sent her to the arena to fight. He was even more impressed to hear of her fighting prowess – though he realized that he was now one of the minnows doomed to face her in combat.

An old man, a monk from the Brotherhood, hobbled over to the Vishlunans, who chanted their funeral rites over a lost friend. "The Warlords have taken your planet?"

The Vishlunans nodded silently. The monk stood, looking somewhat invigorated by this news. He turned to the others. "Vishluna has fallen. The day is at hand."

"Quiet, old man!" hissed a furry alien in the corner. "There are no more days for us."

"Tarre Kahn has doomed himself. He will fall! We will be saved."

Donny watched the old man intently. "How?"

The old man looked at him. "It is said that the day will come when all creatures great and small will travel Arrax as free beings. When the gray world falls, one will rise to unite the planets. Royalty will unite the worlds. The silent will speak. The strong will take arms. The apathetic will be made to take action. The blind will see."

Now Donny remembered. Three years ago, he had written the Oracle of Saturn, a prophecy foretelling of the end of Tarre Kahn's reign. It was then that he had invented Lita, intending her to defeat the mighty Warlords by uniting the peoples of the galaxy. Amazing that his words, cryptic as he thought they were, had become a treasured prophecy.

The monk continued to stare at Donny intently. He stepped forward, touching the boy's face with curiosity. "You," he said. "You are not from here."

"Bloody right," a crippled bounty hunter with no legs snarled. "None of us belongs here, 'cept them blue meanies think we they property."

The monk seemed not to hear the bounty hunter. "She will need all your help," said the monk. "You must help the princess."

Donny nodded. "Sure, I'll help her." Right, Donny thought. If I can even speak in her presence. I'll turn into a babbling idiot in front of her like I do back home.

The light outside grew dim, and the guards arrived with the food, a maggoty mess that made Donny's stomach turn. He sat off to the side and let the hungrier, more desperate minnows eat. The Vishlunans refrained as well, still honoring the dead.

The cell grew darker and darker. Red lights rimming the ceiling kicked on as the last rays of the sunlight faded out. Then the Game Master, Lubrick Zorg, arrived. Lubrick was a mighty champion of the arena himself, one of the few non-Warlords to gain access to the upper echelons of power. The half-man, half-cyborg made a quick scan of the arena, then selected the monk, one Vishlunan, the crippled bounty hunter, and Donny.

"All of you, come."

Donny was the first out. Then the Vishlunan, then the old man. Lubrick sent two guards in to lift the cripple, who lunged and attacked them as they reached for his arms. Lubrick raised a robotic finger and fired a laser from his ring finger, dispatching the man with one blast to the face. He then chose one more prisoner, a Garbarrian with a missing arm, to take the cripple's place.

The prisoners were led silently through the labyrinth beneath the arena. Donny caught sight of Tor in his cell having a meal. The big man looked up and paused, watching Donny walk by with empathy.

Don't just sit there, Donny thought. Do something and get us out of this!

Tor seemed to nod as he vanished from Donny's sight.

They reached the holding pen for the arena. Donny could hear cheers from the crowd, and something large snarling out in the arena. A communicator buzzed, and one guard answered with an "Okay." The old man was lifted to his feet, handed a small dagger, and shoved through the door.

It was less than a minute before the call came again. The Vishlunan was next. This time, Donny and the Garbarrian had time to think and wonder. Donny knew that Tarre Kahn was getting his wish. The Vishlunan would not allow his brothers to be slaughtered so easily. The radio buzzed again. The Garbarrian was sent out this time. Donny didn't have to wait long after his summons before it was his turn. The guards had him on his feet and out the door before he could process what was happening.

Donny nearly tripped over the old man's corpse as he staggered onto the playing field. He saw the Garbarrian lying in pieces a short distance away on the turf. The Vishlunan was no where to be seen, but a Warlord in armor lay crumpled up by the arena wall. Score one for the minnows.

Donny looked up at the seating areas that surrounded him. It was like being in a fish bowl. Thousands of bloodthirsty onlookers gazed down at the tiny kid from Earth who had no idea what lay in store for him. Donny thought he knew all the possibilities. He had, after all, created all the vicious creatures preferred by Tarre Kahn and written the legends of all the mighty gladiators. So it came as such a shock to him with a door opened and the most deadly, beautiful creature in all the known galaxy stepped into view.

Lita.

The crowd roared. Donny swallowed hard. The words of the monk came back to him.

"Take care of her."

Donny could see Lita had no trouble taking care of herself. The question was, who was going to save him?
**Chapter Six:  
The Arena**

Donny was five years old the first time he saw a boy beat up by a girl. His name was Cory, and he was the roughest, meanest Kindergartener every to tromp the halls of Nursery Road Elementary. He ruled with an iron fist, often commandeering the slide for a full recess period. Cory loved the slide. It was his domain, his kingdom, and no one dared oppose him.

Except Olivia. She was a petite little thing who transferred in just after Christmas. When the snow melted and the students were allowed to resume their outdoor recess, Olivia went straight to the slide. Having long ago declared himself the sovereign ruler of the slide (as well as the adjacent jungle gym), Cory objected to Olivia's trespass, attempting to assert his dominance and bring the newcomer in line with the simple, direct command: "Get off my slide!"

Olivia replied not with words, but a right hook. She hit him - hard. She hit Cory so hard his nose bloodied and his head swelled from slamming backwards into the railing on the slide.

It was a huge triumph for the entire Kindergarten class. Even the teachers found it hard not to be overjoyed at the dethroning of the pint-size despot. Olivia got a stern lecture about keeping her hands to herself, but the kids could even see the teachers were thrilled with this small act of vigilante justice. Olivia was a hero, a champion.

Lita was also a hero... and that hero was about to eviscerate the young Earth boy who made her.

Lita made the first move, suddenly, and with deadly force, just missing Donny's head with a well-aimed lance. The crowd roared with delight, pelting Donny with food and garbage. Donny recognized krill, the shrimp-like delicacy with acidic blood, bouncing off his face, leaving tiny burns with every blow. (Why did he have to make EVERYthing these Warlords did so dangerous?) He recovered his wits in time to dodge a sword strike that would have decapitated him.

Lita backed Donny across the arena as he began to negotiate. "Princess, listen to me! I'm here to help you. Tor Hobbes and I? We came to rescue you."

Lita paused. "You came with Tor Hobbes?"

Donny nodded. Lita swung for his nodding head as Donny leapt for cover.

"Tor Hobbes sold me out!"

"He did not!" Donny shouted. "I swear to you, we're here to help."

"You lie," said the Princess.

"We want to help you," said Donny. "You can defeat these people, but not here. Spare my life, and I'll get you out."

Lita chopped down with a sharp blade, missing Donny's leg by microseconds.

"My people are dying," she said, "If I don't fight now, there is no hope."

Donny felt the hardness of the arena wall smack into his back. Lita pulled back with her weapons, preparing to strike. Donny found himself thinking of Tor, wishing that he might find a secret tunnel for his escape, and praying that he would double back to rescue him and the princess.

Lita began to swing her blades at Donny's body. Blow after blow hit the wall; somehow, and he was at a loss to explain it, Donny dodged every strike.

Lita stepped back, her eyes wide. "What race are you?" she gasped. "I've never seen such speed."

"I'm only human," said Donny.

"Well?" Tarre Kahn screamed from his box. "Will you kill him or not?"

Lita looked into Donny's eyes, then stepped away. "What if I don't?"

The Warlord smiled. "Then you can play with my gerbils."

The hair on the back of Donny's neck stood up as the crowd roared. Gerbils in this world were just like in his - except they grew to seven feet at the shoulders with spiky, green fur and razor sharp teeth made to tear flesh.

Lita tossed a blade over to Donny. "I hope you're as quick with your hands as your feet," she said as she charged the opening gate. The crowd roared its pleasure, the majority still hoping to see her royal body ripped to shreds. The first gerbil never had a chance as Lita struck with a vengeance . She then took off running as four more scurried as best as a seven-foot creature can scurry toward her.

Donny was so distracted he almost didn't see the gerbil bearing down on him from behind. The creature leaped at him. Donny ducked down and lifted his blade, slicing the creature open as it sailed over head.

Donny stood to his feet and looked for the princess. Lita was holding her own, having killed one more beast, but two of them had her trapped. Donny ran towards the nearest beast fast as he could, screaming - a foolish move as he managed to draw the attention of both gerbils. They turned and hissed at him, but two turned to one as Lita took advantage of the distraction to pierce the heart of the gerbil nearest her.

The other beast charged at Donny, who dropped his blade as he started to run. Feeling the hot, putrid breath of the gerbil on his back, Donny had the seemingly innocuous thought that this would be a very good time for Tor to fly in on a hovercraft.

"Hit the dirt!" Donny saw Lita ahead, waiting, her blade drawn back like a home run hitter about to belt one out of the park. Donny dove forward, just under her blade. Lita jabbed her blade deep into the creature's head. It fell pitifully to the ground, on top of Donny, squealing in agony. Lita dropped her blade through the creature's eye, ending its misery.

Donny could hear the crowd roaring above him. Wondering what the next task Tarre Kahn might send their way, he looked up and saw the black angel of death - Arkangel - descending to the arena floor.

Donny had written many valorous stories about slaves in the arena involving all manner of creatures and weaponry. Once again, his own creations were throwing him for a loop. Arkangel barely fit in the arena, and the wind force of her main blades was such that many in the stands were running for cover. Lita stood by Donny, her hair flying furiously in the wind, as she stood ready to fight or die.

The side door opened - and a familiar voice shouted from inside. "Get in NOW!"

It was Tor.

Not stopping to question how this could be, Donny grabbed Lita's arm and drug her into the chopper. Arkangel ascended out of the arena like a shot as her side door closed. The trader angled her forward as the deadly war machine began to put a significant distance between them and the Warlord fortress.

"Kid," Tor shouted over the rotorblades. "You still got that map?"

Donny pulled the map from his pocket and unfolded it.

"We need a place we can reach quickly and lay low," said Tor.

Donny searched the map. Time was of the essence. The Warlord pursuit, although slower than Arkangel, would catch up to them if they didn't drop out of sight quickly enough. One planet jumped to mind ahead of all others. "How about Spikor?"

"WHAT?" The outburst came from Lita and Tor almost simultaneously.

"You want to die today, kid, I can drop you back off at the fortress."

"The Warlords fear the Spikors," said Donny. "Don't they?"

"With good reason!" said Tor.

"Tarre Kahn blockaded their cave long ago," said Lita. "There's no getting in or out of there."

Donny sighed, turning back to the map. He had always intended on Spikor being a part of any revolution. If the time was approaching to overthrow the Warlords, they would need them. But perhaps the time wasn't there just yet.

"Hurry, kid," said Tor watching the radar. "The reinforcements are scanning for us already."

Another option caught Donny's eye. He dropped the map on the console beside Tor and pointed. "Take us here, to Lusana."

"Never heard of it," said Tor. "You sure it's safe?"

"Trust me," said Donny.

Tor angled the chopper in the direction of the Lusana cave. Moments later, they were over a dark canyon. Tor put the chopper into cave mode. Vertical boosters kicked in as the rotorblades stopped and folded. Tor dropped Arkangel into the canyon and into the blackness that led to Lusana.

Tor, Donny, and Lita could only stare in wonder. Lusana was a paradise, a world of beaches and devastatingly beautiful scenery but completely devoid of any natural resources. The Warlords had no use for devastating beauty or a world devoid of natural resources; hence the reason their presence was almost unknown.

The chopper resumed her normal flight configuration. Tor glided her slowly over one of the white, sandy beaches. A few huts were visible beyond the tree line, the only signs of intelligent life. Large, awkward, ugly purple birds drifted over the water, occasionally dropping down to dive bomb the creatures beneath the surface. Tor and Donny saw one such creature meet a grisly end as a much larger, uglier sea monster rose up to snap the bird in its jaws.

"Guess we better not go too low," said Tor, raising the chopper up a hundred feet.

"It's beautiful," Lita sighed. "Completely unspoiled."

"Just the way the monks like it," said Donny.

Tor looked over at Donny. "You know an awful lot for a kid from an undiscovered world," he said.

Lita looked at Donny. "Where do you come from?"

"A planet called Earth," said Donny.

"Discovered it by accident," said Tor. "Just after..."

"After you set me up."

Donny was surprised to see fear in Tor's eyes. "Oh no!" He said. "I had nothing to do with it. It was my partner - my ex-partner. He sold us both out!"

"And how can I believe you?"

"I just stole Tarre Kahn's pride and joy and saved you from the arena!" Tor fired back. "I think a little credit is due me, considering I just leap-frogged you on Tarre Kahn's hit list."

Tor brought the chopper down on a hard spot just off the beach. He powered down the engines, then turned to his companions.

"We cannot stay here," said Lita.

"I see no one trying to kick us out," Tor answered.

"My people are dying. I have to get back to them."

"Then you can walk back to the cave," said Tor. "The kid can show you the way."

Lita set a blade against Tor's neck. "You spared my life. For that, I will give you a choice. You can take me out of here, help me collect the fuel cells I came for, and then transport me to Sulee Minor."

"Or?" A bead of sweat splashed on her blade.

"I'll steal this craft and leave you both here."

Three heads turned as a tapping sound echoed in the back of the chopper. Tor hit the button to open the back door. The warm sun of Lusana spilled into the chopper, and three monks in brown robes smiled on the fugitives.

The first monk smiled. "At last, you've come."

Lita looked at the monk, puzzled. "We have?"

"We've been expecting you, Princess," said the monk. "You, and the smuggler." He turned to Donny. "And especially you."

Donny looked at Tor, then Lita. "Me?"

"Come inside," said the monk, stepping back. "Dinner is almost ready."
**Chapter Seven:  
Lusana**

There is a legend told amongst the stars of a creature named Gordo. A nomad in his younger days, Gordo left his home world of Trimo when he was barely an adult, a fugitive fleeing the Warlords like so many of his kind. He drifted through the caves, world by world, taking on odd jobs and helping the less fortunate when he could. Though he took on new adventures and new causes with passion and vigor, deep down Gordo was lost. He was searching for meaning, for something greater than money and power by which a man could judge his life.

Gordo might have drifted forever had it not been for a chance encounter with a planet totally unlike any he had seen in his travels. Isolated unto itself, too busy with its own inner squabbles to be bothered by intergalactic affairs, this planet was most peculiar because it seemed to move on its own trajectory in time, contrary to the other planets.

It was on this undiscovered world that Gordo found his purpose in the wisdom of a kind, gentle, and wise old man. The old man taught Gordo that there was meaning to life beyond the accumulation of wealth and power. What's more, there was hope, real hope for all the peace loving peoples in the planets. Gordo was shown visions of a future free of oppression. It was coming, sure as the triple sunrise that greeted his home world of Trimo every day. Gordo only spent a few years on the uncharted world, apprenticed to this giver of wisdom. Yet when he returned to Arrax he discovered time had moved backward, not forwards, several centuries to a time when Arrax was still untouched by the evil Warlords.

When Gordo returned to Arrax, he resumed his travels among the planets, spreading the word he had received. He warned about the rise of Tarre Kahn, and then shared the prophecy of deliverance that would surely follow. Converts were few and far between, especially in the days before the Warlords rose to power, ranging from the merely curious to the rarest of all - the true believers who founded the Brotherhood of Gordo. But as Tarre Kahn's shadow fell over more and more planets, his fame and teachings grew.

Gordo himself died before Tarre Kahn ascended to power on Arrax, but his followers continued to spread his words. It didn't take long for the Warlords to see the threat such a religious order posed to them, and the Gordic monks soon found themselves on the run. A search was made for a safe haven where Gordo's disciples could continue to keep watch for the changes of time. They settled quietly on Lusana, where they build the tiny village and temple that now played host to three of the most wanted criminals on Arrax.

A long banquet table sat in the center of the temple's severe interior. The wooden posts were ornately carved into what looked like hundreds of feline faces, all stacked on one another, with eyes made out of every color of jewel imaginable. The young apprentices served a lavish meal to Tor, Lita, and Donny. The three monks who formed their welcoming committee - two humans named Ratch and Cobb, and a Maruvian named Dolph - sat across from them.

"So, you said you'd been expecting us?" Lita said, after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Indeed we have," said Ratch. "This is an expected, yet unexpected honor that you would come in our lifetimes."

"Just how long have you boys been waiting?" asked Tor.

"Around six hundred years," said Ratch. "Although we did not make our quest public until about a hundred years ago."

"After Gordo's ascension," said Lita.

Ratch smiled at her. "You know the story?"

"I had a Gordic tutor when I was in school. He made me memorize the poems of Gordo."

"And she shall know your ways," said Dolph. "As if raised among you."

Donny kept silent. Aside from a few paragraphs written on a long lost sheet of paper, Donny had written very little about the monks. This was all new to him, every bit of it.

It was not news to Lita, apparently, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. "You can't possibly mean me," she said. "I'm not a hero."

"You are to your people," said Ratch, "And you will be to all who are touched by Arrax. All three of you."

"Your names will be sung in praise and honor," added Cobb.

Tor laughed as he chewed on his dinner. "You guys are nuts. We're not out to save the galaxy. We only came here to save our butts."

"And yet you arrived in the manner Gordo envisioned," said Ratch, "A spinning circle dropping from the sky carrying three who possess the power to defeat Tarre Kahn."

"Three?" now Donny was really interested. "I've never heard this legend. What is it?"

"Superstition," said Tor. "Good bedtime storytelling, but not a grain of truth to it."

"Your lack of faith will not prevent your place in history," said Ratch. "You will free Arrax. You and your friends."

"We're not friends," said Tor.

"Events are already in motion. You are here, and soon you will depart."

"For home," said Lita. "My people are dying. I only left my planet to find a cure for the plague devastating my people. I cannot abandon them. You must understand that."

"We do," said Ratch. "It is not our place to dictate your journey. We only make you aware of the destination."

"I hope you don't mind me asking," said Donny. "But I'm not aware of your beliefs at all. Can you tell me what you're talking about?"

Ratch smiled at Donny. "Of course we can. The founder of our order, Gordo, had much to say about you, the inquisitive one," he said. "You have many questions, and yet, you also hold all the answers."

Tor looked at Donny's puzzled face, then Ratch, then Donny again. "It's a kids fairy story, like I said. Three strangers arrive from a spinning circle in the sky. They receive the blessing of Gordo, then they set out to clear the way for the Arrival."

"The arrival of whom?" asked Donny.

Lita looked at him, "The Maker."

"The Maker?" It rang a bell, something from a Star Wars movie or something, but Donny couldn't place it.

"The Maker is the Creator," said Ratch. "The one by whose hand and pleasure we all exist."

Donny felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't breathe, much less speak. Tor spoke up instead. "They mean, God."

"That is a name for him, yes," said Cobb. "There is one by whose hand we exist, one who fashioned our worlds and set them in motion. To him, we look for redemption. He will come to dwell with us, then deliver us from evil."

Donny remained silent, speechless. Ratch gave him a smile that put the boy at ease. "I know what you wish to ask. And there is a simple way we may answer." The monk rose from his chair. "Come."

The other monks rose. Donny stood up, along with Tor and Lita, but Cobb motioned the others to sit. "I am sorry. But this is only for him, that he may believe."

Tor shrugged, then sat back down and returned to his dinner. Lita looked as if she wanted to object, to speak, but then she, too, sat down silently. Ratch echoed his request for Donny to follow, and the teenager fell in line with the monks.

They led Donny out of the dining hall down a narrow corridor. At the end, Cobb opened a locked door that opened on a spiral staircase. Ratch and Cobb took the lead, with Dolph following Donny. Donny counted forty seven steps before stumbling and losing his count – then continuing on into the darkness.

At the end of the stairs, Ratch and Cobb took torches off the wall and lit them. Each walked to the side of the room that stretched out from the stairs.

"What is this place?"

"In days past, a chamber for reflection," said Cobb. "A place to focus on our purpose, anticipating the day of liberation. Soon, it will be a place of high honor for the one who has finally come."

Ratch and Cobb dipped their torches into trenches on either wall, four feet off the ground and six inches out from the wall. The fire from the torches moved into the trench and down the hall, illuminating a large room with a ceiling sixty feet high. Rows of kneeling pillows were lined up facing the far wall, where a large tapestry covered the stone mason work.

Donny looked up at the tapestry. His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

A cool wet rag on his forehead. That was the first sensation he felt as he came to. Donny thought a silent prayer, hoping that he would wake up in bed, at school - any place on Earth. Instead he awoke in a monastic dorm room.

Lita held the washrag, and she smiled at him as his eyes opened. "Careful. You took quite a spill."

Donny rose up a little. "Did I?"

Lita nodded. "That's what the monks tell us. They brought you up through the dining room afterward. I saved some dessert, if you're still hungry."

Lita offered up a plate of something very green that smelled very much like chocolate. It didn't look like much, but the smell was enough to get him to take a bite, then finish the rest quickly.

"I guess you enjoyed that," Lita said, laughing at him. "Glad I fought Tor when he tried to take it away."

They laughed. Donny decided that liked this side of her. She was far more pleasant here in this tranquil paradise than when they first met, blades drawn, in the arena.

"Thank you for rescuing me," she said. "That was the bravest act I've ever witnessed, hijacking Arkangel. I don't know how you two pulled it off."

"To be honest," said Donny. "I don't know either."

Lita looked out the window at the sandy beach. "Tor wants to leave tomorrow. I made a deal him to help me hijack another load of medicine. We'll do that, then I'll return home."

"And Tor?"

"He'll be gone," Lita sighed, sadly. "He wants to scrap Arkangel and sell her off piece by piece."

"He's going to scrap her?"

"That was our deal," she said. "It's what he wanted."

"Maybe you can persuade him to help," said Donny.

Lita shook her head, a cold look in her eyes. "Guys like him only care so long as the money's coming in."

"No," said Donny. "That's not Tor. Not entirely. He stuck his neck out a lot for me the past few days."

"And now it's paying off," said Lita. "Believe me, I've dealt with his type long enough. But you, you seem like a regular kid. How did you get mixed up with a guy like him?"

Donny laughed. "He crashed my planet by accident. One minute I'm in the library, the next I'm dodging lasers with a notorious space trader."

"So it is true," said Lita, "You come from an uncharted planet."

Donny nodded. "Yeah. We've done some space travel, but we haven't made it past our own moon."

Lita giggled. "That's kinda sad."

"Yeah, well, we're kinda busy fighting each other half the time."

"It's the same way everywhere," said Lita. "That's how Tarre Kahn was able to subdue so many planets. You'd think people would band together to defend their planet. But doing so would compromise secrets and technology. Worlds divide, and the Warlords reunify them piece by piece under their rule."

"United we stand, divided we fall."

"What's that?"

Donny looked at Lita. "Just a saying from my home world."

Lita walked to the window. "Every hour that passes, I wonder if I still have a home. Sulee Minor was hit with a plague. Soon as people started dying, the rich and powerful fled to safety on our moon, leaving everyone else to die. My father was one of the first to go. I stayed behind, and we treated the sick as best as we could. When we ran out of medicine, I made the deal with Tor that landed me in prison."

She turned to Donny. "Those of us who stayed were believers. We believe the Maker is coming. We believe Tarre Kahn will be destroyed. I don't know if these monks are right about us, but if I am chosen to fight, I will."

Donny nodded. "The way the monks talk, none of us has a choice," he said. "Not even Tor."

"I don't know that even he would be enough to turn the tide," she said. "But I would welcome a fighter like him at my side."

"And me?"

It slipped out before he even thought he words through. He was only a boy, and not very athletic. He was a science fiction writer, not a warrior. Yet it seemed he had a destiny here. And heck, sticking around this place was no less dangerous than walking the halls of his high school.

"You have a fighting spirit," said Lita. "We can use you."

"Where ever you go, whatever you have to do," he told Lita, "I'm with you."

The princess nodded, then stood to leave. She walked to the door, but paused before she left.

"Can I ask you something?"

Donny nodded.

"Can you tell me what it was the monks showed you?"

Donny thought about this answer. After a few seconds, he looked up at her. "I think I need to keep it to myself for a bit."

The princess nodded. "I will see you in the morning." She opened the door and was soon gone.

Donny stared blankly at the door, the memory coming back to him. He remembered setting foot on the floor in the dark chamber. He remembered watching the flames race around the walls, illuminating the room. He remembered the tapestry – the huge piece of artwork on the wall, stretching to the ceiling. He remembered the face, the body, the look of awkward surprise in the subject of the piece.

It was his image, his face that he saw on the wall of the ancient temple.

Donny decided he should probably lie down a while longer.
**Chapter Eight:  
The Freighter**

Ulee Blix began this day the way he did every day - fighting with his wife.

"You promised me you'd be home more often! You said you'd have more time for me. More time for the kids!" Karis' fiery temper was typical for a pink humanoid from Bastian 6. His mother warned him not to marry the girl, but his only other choice was a Warlord woman - hardly a better alternative.

"Karis, I'm getting there. It's just going to take a while longer."

"How much longer?" said Karis. "You've been saying that since Ju-jo was born, and you still haven't moved."

"That's not true and you know it," said Ulee. "I'm a caravan commander now!"

"Oh wow. From frigate commander to caravan commander. You're still in a nowhere part of the service."

"Nowhere?" said Ulee. "You think it's easy guarding shipments against all those pirates and raiders?"

"You shouldn't be running military cargos any more!" Ulee bristled at her demand. He was a Warlord, but she, a member of a conquered people, still resisted the idea of Warlord dominance. "Your people's days are numbered. The more you oppress the poor, the harder they will strike back."

"With what?" said Ulee. "With rocks and sticks?"

"That's all Little Gillis needed to fell the Garthog!"

Ulee rolled his eyes at the mention of the ancient Bastian myth. "Look, I want to get into the private shipping routes. But they don't take just anyone. Once I distinguish myself as a caravan commander, I'll have any job I want."

"You said that when you became frigate commander," said Karis.

Karis sat down on the dragon-leather couch, her face in her hands, her eyes welling up with tears. He sat beside her and put his arm around her.

"Don't bother with me," said Karis. "Just go. Go distinguish yourself and hurry back safe."

Karis kissed him, and he was off.

Looking out from his command vessel, Ulee knew this was the wrong day to be on watch. He was too distracted by his wife and the morning fight to keep a careful watch. A distracted commander makes slow decisions. Slow decisions cost lives. Ulee strived all the more to push Karis out of mind, yet the more he struggled, the more she nagged at him.

Ulee had no clue what sort of danger he was in. How could he guess that the young teen who (inspired by the bickering Air Force pilot and his wife who lived next door) had breathed life into him and his wife in the pages of a spiral notebook was watching his ship through the gun sights of his own military's finest weapons system? It was madness, especially to a Warlord, raised to believe that all life was the result of random chance. Evolution, survival of the fittest, these were the laws of nature - laws the Warlords had taken it upon themselves to enforce as the master race.

All the more ironic that it was Ulee's creator looking through the gun sight and pulling the trigger that blew up his command ship.

As the massive command ship crashed into the rocks below, engulfed in flames, the scouts and fighters turned toward the direction of the laser blast, ready to fight. The tiny scout ships immediately turned and fled when they saw the mighty Arkangel emerge from her camouflage mode. A barrage of lasers and missiles screamed out of the chopper, disintegrating the first wave of fighters.

Ulee gulped hard, watching from his post on the freighter. "We are going to die."

The remaining fighters banked hard and out of the line of Arkangel's weapon systems. Lita pulled hard on the stick, sending the chopper into a hard turn preparing to engage the fighters.

"Watch the rear!" she shouted back. "They like to draw your fire from the front, then bite you from behind."

"I got it!" Donny had written the book – literally – on Warlord fighting strategies. He knew what they were going to do before they did it, and it made easy pickings for him as he fired the big guns on the chopper. He dusted two fighters as they swung around the rear, then brought all the guns to bear on the trio of ships attempting a forward assault, sending all three crashing to the sands below.

Lita gave a shout. "Nice shooting!"

"Where's the freighter?" Donny shouted.

Lita checked the radar. "Just where we want it."

"Tell Tor to hit her now!"

Lita relayed the command to Tor, who rose from his hiding place on the planet's surface and aimed the ion laser at the freighter. He squeezed the trigger, and a bright white beam of energy leapt from the laser gun toward the freighter, frying the sensitive controls in the forward engine bay. The ship rocked and jolted, then went eerily silent, falling to the ground with a sudden, violent crash.

Tor grabbed his machine gun and ran for the ship. As the Warlord crew commanders made their way out the doors, Tor picked them off, one by one. He aimed carefully, trying not to hit the Vishlunan slaves who actually flew the ship. They would be needed later, and they were innocents in this war.

Having taken out the remaining escort ships, Lita brought the chopper low on the opposite side of the ship from Tor. Donny quickly dispatched a small assault force that had escaped the crash as they tried to out-flank Tor.

The resistance was short-lived. A lone Vishlunan stepped out of the craft with a makeshift white flag. Keeping the engine running, Lita stepped out of Arkangel, weapon in hand, to greet him.

"My masters wish to surrender," said the slave.

"Very good," said Lita. "Tell them they may live, but they must leave the ship now."

The Vishlunan boarded the ship. Within minutes, the surviving crew members were streaming out of the ship. Two of the blue-skinned men carried a badly wounded comrade out of the ship and laid him on the ground. They looked up at the princess.

"He's not going to last," said the Warlord. "Will you leave him here to die?"

"Go back on board your ship," she said. "Bring out one of the small fuel tanks."

The Warlord nodded, then walked back on board the ship.

Tor approached the princess from behind, taking aim at the Warlords. "Shall we dispatch them?"

Lita shook her head. Tor growled at Lita. "You should let them die. They'd never give this mercy to us."

"We're stealing this ship because the fuel on board has life-giving properties," she said. "If we deny them the same resource when they need it, we are no better than them."

"Tell that to the ones we just shot out of the sky," said Tor.

"No one said you had to come," said Lita.

"Just the monks," quipped Tor.

The commander returned with the fuel tank in hand. Lita handed her weapon to Tor, then took the tank from the Warlord. She kneeled down beside the wounded soldier and opened the tank. Lita grabbed the bottom of her shirt and ripped off a large swatch of clothing. She dipped the rag into the fuel, then began to dab the liquid on the wounds.

The injured Warlord gave a cry of pain as she started to treat him. The man who retrieved the fuel tank started to move toward Lita, but one look from Tor made him step back. The Warlord looked back down at his dying friend. There was smoke coming from the wounds, but the man was no longer in pain. Nor was he bleeding. The wounds had already begun to heal.

Lita stood and addressed the Warlords. "To you, this is nothing but fuel for war," said Lita. "To others, and to this man, it is life."

Lita helped the wounded man to his feet. The other Warlords moved closer to examine the fast-healing wounds. Lita capped the fuel tank and left it there. "In case anyone else needs help before rescue finds you."

"There is no rescue for us," said one Warlord. "We will all be killed."

"Then I suggest you run and hide," said the warrior princess. "That is, unless anyone among you wishes to change sides."

She paused long enough to offer any turncoats the opportunity. None did. Lita turned toward the freighter and spoke with the Vishlunans guarding the door.

"Get back on board and secure your ship," said Lita. "We will tow you to a safe harbor. You and your brothers will soon be free."

The slave nodded and returned to the ship. Tor fell in step with Lita as she ran back to the chopper.

"So that's what this was about," he said. "Medical relief?"

Lita looked back at Tor. "Are you surprised?"

"Yes," said Tor. "I expected a warrior like you isn't gearing up to take down Tarre Kahn."

"Not everyone in this galaxy is eager for war," she said.

Lita and Tor climbed back inside Arkangel. Lita lifted the chopper in the air, hovered over the freighter's command center, and activated the chopper's tractor beam. Pulling back on the stick, Lita lifted the chopper and the freighter into the air. The giant rotors tilted forward, and Arkangel sped toward her destination: Sulee Minor.

As the crippled freighter made its way over the caves and sand, Ulee Blix, broken and bleeding, moved silently, searching for the freighter's homing beacon, only to find it irreparably damaged by the ion blast. Exhausted, he settled in for the ride, plotting his revenge.

Whoever had stolen his ship was in for a surprise. Ulee knew it was his chance to become a hero – and maybe, just maybe, give Karis and the kids the life he had always promised.
**Chapter Nine:  
Sulee Minor**

Somewhere along the equator of Arrax lies a tiny cave covered over in rubble. Beyond the mouth of the cave is a portal to another world, a desolate rock known as Dakini. Once a rich and powerful world that led the galaxy in financial and technological prowess, it now floats aimlessly in its home star system, barren and devoid of all life, a warning to all who dare challenge the power of the Warlords.

The Premier of Dakini was a winged hawk-man named Lothos. A megalomaniac with his own plans for the cave world, Lothos was often referred to as Tarre Kahn-light – all the lust for power, half the intelligence. He used his incredible wealth to recruit the most brilliant minds in science and industry to Dakini. Their work shone through not only in the massive architectural achievements of the planet, but their obscenely deadly military might.

Lothos had a bloodlust only a Warlord could exceed. He didn't believe in bullets or the quick, simple kill. Dakini weapons used shells no smaller than a Vishlunan's fist, armed with explosive warheads. It wasn't enough to kill your enemy. Lothos wanted to dismember them.

Consequently, Dakini was the first and only world to put up a successful resistance when the Warlords came knocking. Lothos's strategy was simple, but brilliant: guard the cave entrance. At the time, only what was small enough to enter a cave could travel from Arrax to another world, and vice versa. To bring a battle cruiser or a troop carrier through was impossible. You could march troops and tanks through, but not much more. Thus when the inevitable invasion began, the big guns of Dakini turned the gateway of their world into a putrid, stinking pile of Warlord body parts.

It would seem the Warlords had met their match. Lothos kept careful count of how many soldiers he had slaughtered, waiting until the optimum number of kills was met so that he could stage his own counter invasion and seize Arrax.

Enter Dr. Cyn.

A deviant scientific mind, Dr. Cyn came to Tarre Kahn's attention after inventing a technology called MUT – micro-universal transversal. The technology works on the theory that the universe is actually made up of millions of microuniverses, and that any one entity existing in a universe was most likely actually living in another microuniverse within a larger universe. Thus, if one could effectively travel not in space, but in scale to a smaller universe, size would not longer become an obstacle to any sort of trans-cave travel.

The theory was much derided by Dr. Cyn's colleagues, who called him a big ninny-head. That ended abruptly when Dr. Cyn used his technology to shrink the university's faculty lounge to a size small enough that he could feed it to an Arraxian hissing beetle – which he did.

It was a simply if barbaric demonstration of the power of this non-lethal technology. Now one could, for example, shrink an entire battle fleet small enough to fit into a briefcase, transport them safely through a cave, and unleash them on an unsuspecting populace right at the heart of their civilization – which Tarre Kahn did.

The effect was all captured by Warlord documentary filmmaker Urgon Kalliff's award-winning epic, "Why You Don't Mess With The Warlords," highlights of which included the nuclear bombs that reduced a proud civilization to ash and the summary execution of Lothos by Tarre Kahn, a feat of violence so cruel that decency and good taste forbid we re-print the details of it here.

After Dakini, conquest became even easier for the Warlords. The MUT came into service only a handful of times, but thanks to the barren rock that was once Dakini, every planet lived in constant fear that today would be the day the Warlord vessels would magically appear in the skies overhead.

For Sulee Minor, that day was today. But in a world devoid of hope, ravaged by plague, the sight of the Warlord freighter and Tarre Kahn's deadly gunship Arkangel brought nothing more than a resigned sigh. No one expected to live through the plague anyway, and death at the hands of gunships would be swift and merciful compared to their current plight.

The chopper and the freighter made their way towards the landing strip near the king's palace, now a make-shift hospital over-flowing with plague-ridden patients. Pax Dillard and Orrin Link raced out to assess the situation. It was Pax who first noticed the damage on the freighter.

"Something's wrong. The ship's been blasted to pieces."

"It's a supply vessel," said Orrin. "Probably to ensure that demon ship doesn't run out of fuel."

"Then why is the freighter being towed by tractor beam?"

Lita set the freighter down on a landing strip near the palace. No one dared approach the freighter or the chopper until the princess herself stepped out of the chopper. Pax ran to hug her.

"You're alive!" she said. "We heard you had been sent to the arena and destroyed."

"Don't believe everything you hear," Lita replied. "These men helped me escape." Lita introduced Tor and Donny to her companions. Pax greeted both of them with hugs, but Orrin scowled, his eyes fixed to the gunship.

"That's the Arkangel," he said.

"Yes it is," said Tor.

"You fool!" said Orrin, his emotions override protocol as he dressed down the princess. "Do you think Tarre Kahn will let you run around forever in his favorite toy?"

"The homing beacon is deactivated," said Tor. "They'll never track us."

"But they know where to come," said Orrin, looking to the princess. "If they know you have her, they know where to find her!"

"I couldn't stay away, Orrin. Not when my people are dying. The freighter is full of the medicine we need to heal our people. See that it gets to them quickly."

Orrin eyed the freighter suspiciously. "Is it safe?"

"The crew was removed," said Lita. "The Vishlunans were the only ones left on board." Orrin could see the strong, silent Vishlunans disembarking from the freighter. He turned to Pax.

"Send a squad on board to start unloading the medicine. I want them armed, just in case."

Pax squeezed Lita's arm. "Glad to see you back." She ran off to gather her men.

The princess turned to Orrin. "If we move quickly, we can hide the medical stores in my father's wine cellars, then scuttle the ship. I'll take it out some place remote and ditch her myself, along with Arkangel. No one will be any the wiser."

"This is a reckless move, even for you, Princess," said Orrin.

"It's good to see you as well, Orrin," said Lita.

Orrin couldn't help the smile. "We'll move as fast as we can."

"Good," said Lita. She turned to Tor. "I need another favor, Orrin. The trader here is due a reward for helping my escape. See that he gets well compensated from my private funds."

Orrin's face turned ashen. "Your highness... Please don't be angry. it was not my decision."

Lita's face turned cold. "What was not your decision?"

"After you were captured, your father seized all your assets."

Lita turned, angrily, and headed into the palace. Donny raced after her. Tor started a few steps behind.

"What does that mean?" said Tor. "Seized your assets?"

"What does it sound like?" Lita snapped angrily.

"Princess, if you're playing some game--"

"I am a woman of honor, Hobbes," said Lita. "And right now, I'm just a little ticked off."

The once mighty palace of Sulee Minor was a different place than Donny ever imagined. The huge columns and majestic murals of Sulee's history were there, but the natural light shone in not on royal adornments, but a hospital setting. Thousands of Suleeans lay dying or dead. Only a scant few, heavily protected by plastic suits, moved about, tending to the sick. Tor covered his mouth. "If this is a ploy to get me to waive my fees..."

Lita turned to Tor, angry. "I'm not the one who can't be trusted here! If you recall, you're the one who abandoned me to the Warlords on Arrax!"

"Don't play high and mighty. I've had dealings with your father and his father before him. The monarchy on this world does not have the best reputation."

"I am not my father!" Lita shouted. "Take a look around you. My people are dying. I would do anything for them. Even if it meant doing business with scum like you."

"And ripping them off?" Tor snorted.

Lita ignored the accusation as she activated the video-link to the Sulee Moon. In a matter of minutes, she was face to face with her father.

"Lita?"

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your mourning?"

"No, not at all," the king stammered. "I'm so glad you're alive."

"You didn't hold out a lot of hope, did you? Seizing my money? How dare you!"

"Lita, please understand. When you disappeared, we had to assume the worst. Besides, people are in need here. Important people."

"People are dying down here!" Lita snapped. "Are they no longer important to you?"

"Lita, why do you insist on wasting time with peasants? When this crisis is over, they will be long forgotten. Let them go."

"No," she said. "You may have forgotten your sovereign duty, but I haven't."

"I have forgotten nothing!" the king snapped. "I have provided for my people here on the moon."

"Then I will provide for mine planet side," said Lita.

The king sat up. "What are you saying?"

"As of this moment, this is my kingdom," said Lita. "These are my people now, my subjects. And all of Sulee Minor is under my provision."

"How dare you!" the king fired back. "You would usurp my throne in my absence?"

"You already condemned these people to die, you and your subjects. Now you have yours, I have mine. We have the medicine to cure these people and restore our planet to health. And once we do, you, father, will no longer be welcome." She leaned into the camera. "And know this: when the time comes I will take back my money, just as I took this medicine from Tarre Kahn."

She waited just long enough for the vile name of Tarre Kahn to make its impact on the king's expression before she killed the link.

"Congratulations on your new kingdom," said Tor. "Now about my payment..."

"You will get paid when I have the money to pay," said Lita.

"Every day you put me off, it's going to cost you," said Tor.

"Then you will earn it," said Lita.

Tor started to growl back when an explosion shook the ground beneath them. Lita took the quickest way out of the palace toward the landing pad, Tor and Donny in her wake. They were outside the palace in less than a minute, where a fireball had consumed half the freighter. She ran to Orrin, who was frantically giving orders to the firefighting crew.

"What happened?"

"There was one left alive!" Orrin shouted. "He fired on Pax and her men, then he set the ship on fire."

Donny surveyed the scene. It was hopeless. There were no close water sources, and half the medicine had to have been destroyed already.

"Not like this!" said Lita. "Not like this!"

There was only one hope, Donny thought. He closed his eyes and began to think...

Immediately he thought it, the storm clouds gathered. A thunderhead formed, and the rain began to pour. The Vishlunans continued their work while every Suleean battling the blaze stopped in awe as they felt the rain pour down, sweeping over the freighter.

Tor turned to look at Lita and Donny. "That was convenient."

Donny opened his eyes and saw both Tor and Lita staring at him.

"It hasn't rained on Sulee in years," said Lita. "We've been in a long drought." Donny felt his ears turn red.

The fire was out quickly, and the Vishlunans began carrying their dead from the ship. One of the former slaves came towards Lita carrying two bodies. One was Ulee Blix. The other was Pax.

"Oh, Pax," Lita said, a tear trickling down her cheek as she kneeled beside her friend. "I'm so sorry."

"This is the one who was left aboard," said the Vishlunan. "He was shot just before he detonated the ship."

Donny recognized him immediately. Poor Ulee! Despite making the Warlords the baddest of the bad in the galaxy, he had a fondness for the family man. Ulee was a side project who had spawned half a dozen short stories. Even as he outlined his epic tale of the liberation of Arrax, Donny never intended Ulee to die. Switch sides, maybe, but never die. He kneeled between the two bodies, looking to one, then the other, and touched them.

Pax began to cough immediately. Lita's eyes widened. She grabbed onto Pax.

"How can it be?" said Lita. "You're alive!"

"She's not the only one." Tor nodded toward the Warlord, still motionless, but eyes open, looking around intently.

"Aw crap," said Ulee.

It was Lita who noticed Donny's hands on the two bodies. She turned to Orrin. "Get them both to a sick room. I want guards around the Warlord." She grabbed Donny firmly by the wrist. "Come with me."

Donny followed Lita back inside the palace. She led him right past the men in biohazard suits to the first sick person in bed she saw.

"Princess, please!" one of the doctors cried.

"It's okay, Doctor," she said calmly. "Donny?"

Donny looked at her, silent.

"Do it," she said.

He wanted to play dumb, but he knew what she was asking him to do. Donny looked on the shriveled form of an older woman, one of the weak and elderly abandoned by Lita's father. She could barely move her head towards the sound of Lita's voice, moaning as she did. Donny reached out slowly and took her hand.

Nothing. For a long moment, nothing.

Then, suddenly, the old woman's eyes opened fully. She seemed to fill in where she had shrunk, and she began to rise up, looking towards Donny with eyes of wonder.

"It's gone," she said. "Who are you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Lita. "He's the Maker."
**Chapter Ten:  
The Maker**

Ulic Renner the Third could hardly be considered an authoritarian. As the absolute monarch, he had sole authority and power over the planet Sulee Minor and its moon. He was also one of the very few wealthy on the planet, a minority that made up less than one percent of the planet's population. Yet Renner was viewed with love by the vast majority of his subjects. A peace at all costs negotiator who had yet to call up the military for action, the King of Sulee Minor had endeared himself to the populace by sustaining a peaceful relationship with the Lord of Arrax for more than forty years.

But Renner's willingness to keep the peace at any costs had taken a slow toll on his people, one that was only now beginning to tally. For two decades, the Warlords had used the uninhabitable southern hemisphere of the planet as their own private trash dump. They had also turned the factories of Sulee Minor into sweat shops, where the battle armor and military uniforms for the deadliest armada in the galaxy were made. The rich had grown richer. The poor had remained poor. But even at that, the people were happy to have peace.

As Lita came of age in the palace, the gentle peace that Renner enjoyed on his planet began to unravel within his own home. After disguising herself as a peasant and sneaking out for a look around, Lita confronted her father at the tender age of fifteen for his neglect of the people's welfare.

"These are not workers," she said to his face. "They are slaves. And you're just as bad as those who enslaved them!"

"My dear daughter," said Renner. "You have so much to learn about diplomacy. Our people choose to work in the factories. And they have chosen peace over resistance. Look to Dakini if you doubt they have chosen wrong."

"When I am monarch," said Lita, "I will expel the blue demons from our planet!"

Renner didn't think too much of Lita's rebellion. He knew in time that she would grow up and conform, as he had, and he felt confident the peace would remain. But Lita grew more hot-blooded as time went on. Within a few years, he began to hear rumors of her dressing as a pirate, raiding supply ships, and bringing back plunder to the people. Renner ignored the stories as mere fantasies conjured up by the people.

Renner tried desperately to domesticate his rogue daughter. He had arranged three engagements and even one wedding, but Lita had run off all three men. It wasn't that she didn't want to marry. She was simply more married to her people - her patriotism - to settle down with an eligible bachelor.

Then, one day, he learned that his daughter had a price on his head.

Renner contacted Tarre Kahn immediately to beg for clemency. A pardon was granted, but at a heavy price. Tarre Kahn had some top secret waste material he wanted disposed of, and Renner agreed to store it. Soon after arrival of the mysterious black freighter carrying this top secret cargo, the plague broke out.

The plague reached epidemic proportions within a matter of weeks. A meeting with the other wealthy families of Sulee Minor was called, and they all agreed to leave the planet surface for the well-stocked, well-fortified moon.

Much to Renner's dismay, Lita ran away before he could drag her onboard, choosing to stay behind and tend to the helplessly doomed poor. But those who left with him were confident that one day soon, they would all go home. The planet would be a bit lonelier, but it would be theirs once more. And Tarre Kahn would be welcome to import workers, as the need for armor and uniforms was not likely to go away any time soon.

Their anticipation turned to anxiety, and then fear, with the news that Lita had delivered at least a half a freighter full of valuable rocket fuel to the planet's surface - fuel that had the life-giving properties that would eradicate the plague.

Once that happened, what would the people do with him?

"They're fools, Renner," said Queen Ballas, taking her husband's hand as he gazed out the front window of their lunar cruiser. "They can't possibly have enough medicine to heal all those sick."

"Even if they do," said Quill Paladas, Renner's right hand man, "Tarre Kahn won't stand for what happened. He will demand blood."

"Better that of the people than our daughter," said Ballas.

"It's a terrible thing to ponder," said Renner.

"There are worse things," said Quill. "He could level the entire planet, turn us into refugees."

"And what is to happen to Lita?" said Renner.

Queen Ballas sighed. "My dear, there is no turning her. Even if we were to get another pardon, she would run off and invoke the wrath of Tarre Kahn again."

"She would be even more dangerous than before," said Quill. "Which is why--"

"Which is why," said Renner, "My only child has to die."

"Better to let one die for the good of many," said Quill, "Than doom an entire planet."

Renner nodded. "Forgive me my child," he said softly. Ballas patted him on the arm. "Come. We are nearing the palace."

Renner looked down on the mighty palace of Sulee Minor as the ship neared the airstrip. He could see a familiar black shape on the tarmac, one that made his spine tingle and stomach turn in knots.

"Arkangel," he said. "It looks like Tarre Kahn is already here."

The ship landed, and the royal guard led the way down the ramp at the rear of the craft. Quill took the lead with King Renner and Queen Ballas behind.

"Stay close to his majesty," Quill instructed the guards. "The palace is an infirmary now, not a royal residence."

The expectation did not meet reality. At the doors of the palace, Pax emerged with a small honor guard. She bowed to the king and queen. "You majesties, it will be our honor to escort you inside."

"Thank you," said Renner. Pax's men formed up with the king's guard. Pax led the entire procession inside, where the once crowded halls were now half way back to their former state of splendor. The beds were gone. The patients were gone. The sounds of anguish and the stench of death no longer filled the air. Hundreds of Suleeans raced from place to place, scrubbing every nook and cranny. Every one of them paid a respectful and humble bow to the king and queen on sight.

"What happened here?" Ballas whispered to Renner.

Pax did not look back as she spoke. "The plague is over."

Renner looked at his wife, then back at Pax. "And the people?"

"Most of them survived."

"It's a miracle," said the king.

"More than you know," said Pax.

The procession halted outside the throne room, where Lita stood in a gown of silver and white, a small silver crown on her head. The guards parted, and despite their hostilities, the royal family reunited in a big hug.

"I am so relieved you are alive!" said Renner.

Lita hugged her father and mother warmly. She then stepped away and addressed them sternly. "Father, the crown on your head may remain. But your reign on this world is over."

Renner looked stunned by the news. Ballas and Quill responded with anger in his stead. "Insolent child!" said Quill. "How dare you usurp your father!"

"On the contrary," said Lita. "The people have chosen a different leader. I have done nothing to sway them."

"Then who?" said Ballas. "Who dares to sit in your father's place?"

Lita nodded to Pax. Pax opened the doors, and the procession moved inside. Lita led her parents to the dais in the center of the room, where an awkward kid in jeans and a T-shirt sat. The boy stood and gave a polite bow.

"Your majesty, it is an honor," he said.

"Who is this?" said Renner, the anger catching up to him. "Does a child dare to take my throne?"

"Look, this was not my idea," the boy said. "I told Lita this was her throne, not mine. But the people were insistent, and so was your girl here. I had no choice."

"Guards!" said Renner. "Remove this young man at once!"

Renner's guards began to move, but Pax's men moved quicker, blocking their efforts to advance on the throne. Donny leaped up on the seat. "Whoa, let's take it easy. We've never had blood shed in this palace, and I don't want any shed over me!"

"Who are you?" Renner demanded.

"My name is Donny," the boy said. "And there's no easy, way to say this other than to just say it, so here goes: I made you."

Renner stood silently, his temper boiling. "That's insane."

Donny reached out his hand toward Renner. The old monarch felt the load on his head lift as the crown rose on its own from the top of his head. He tried to grab it and pull it back down, but Donny lifted it high over his head without even touching it.

"How did you do that?" the king demanded.

"I have no idea," said Donny. "I visualize it, and then it happens. Believe me; I'd love an explanation just as much as you."

"There's nothing to explain," said Lita. "You are the Maker. You are the one the Gordic monks have told us about."

Quill's face turned pale with terror. "He is real?"

"Relax, Quill," said Donny. He allowed the crown to lower back onto King Renner's head. "No one's going to be dealing out any wrath."

"Why are you here?" said the king.

"I'm still not sure myself," said Donny. "I created this world. I created all of you. But this prophecy and stuff, that was not me." Donny shifted in his seat. "All I can figure is my creation needed me. Your people needed me. So here I am."

"So it's true. You ended the plague?" asked the king.

"Which is why the people asked me to take your seat," said Donny. "I promise, I never wanted to be king or emperor or anything. I just wanted to tell stories. If you think meeting me is a shock, it's nothing compared with meeting you."

"What is to become of us, then?" said Queen Ballas, the only one not openly awed by Donny's power and presence. The teenager hopped off the dais and walked up to her and the king.

"You will remain here," said Donny. "...part of the elite class, and the royal family. It's where you belong." He looked at Lita. "But when I leave this world - if I ever get out of here - Lita will sit on the throne, not you." He looked back at the queen. "She has earned the title by her bravery, don't you think?"

Renner nodded. "We acted like cowards."

Quill groaned. "Your majesty, I must object to this."

"Enough of you," said Renner. "We acted like cowards and left our people for dead. The boy is right. Lita will be queen."

With that, Renner removed his crown, took a knee, and placed the crown before Lita. Lita lifted her father back to his feet.

"I am sorry for my rebellion."

"You were right, Lita. When time of crisis came, it was you who thought of the people. All the people. I'm very proud of you."

Lita and her parents turned to leave the throne room, with Quill and the royal guard following. Pax remained by Donny's side with her men. As soon as the doors closed, Donny breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Well, that went well."

"Do you trust him, my Lord?" said Pax.

"Renner?" Donny nodded. "He's a man of his word. But we should probably keep an eye on the others."

"It will be done," said Pax, making a mental note.

Donny hopped back on the dais and climbed back in the throne. Pax smiled as the boy tried to adjust himself in the seat.

"How do you like the view from there?"

"I wish it would recline," said Donny. "The throne."

Pax winked. "We can have it modified."

A red light on the throne flashed. Donny pressed a button. A 3-D image of Orrin appeared before him, dressed in the full battle regalia of the Sulee Minor Navy.

"My lord, we have arrived at the staging point," he said.

"Hold steady," said Donny. "Observe all activity and log all traffic in and out of the cave. When night falls on Arrax, report back."

"Yes, sir." Orrin killed the projector and turned to his four man crew. "You heard the man. I want to a full report of anything and everything going in and out of that cave."

The crew men nodded. Orrin walked to the front and looked out the windshield of Arkangel. Hidden by her cloaking device, the aircraft lay one quarter of a mile from a Warlord fortification. It was a three story post, two hundred meters wide, with dozens of soldiers arming some of the biggest guns ever deployed on Arrax – all of them aimed at one cave.

"Sir? Is something the matter?"

Orrin looked over at his men, all of them as nervous as he was. He shook his head, turning back to look at the fort.

"What does he want with Spikor?"
**Chapter Eleven:  
Alliances**

The term "overnight success" is an unusual expression, for while the expression is centuries old, it is only in recent years that the general populace on technologically advanced worlds have had the means to become a literal overnight success. On the planet Earth, for example, the creation of the World Wide Web on Earth, and particularly the website Youtube, have put overnight success in the hands of every man woman and child with access to the Internet. Likewise, the techno-savvy world of Plasmo, where people receive television waves in their minds rather on a television set, has seen more than its fair share of overnight successes. The most recent example was that of young Hemo Strubeck, a love-struck young man who used his mind-cam to record a feeble attempt to wrestle and capture a tigerfalo - a half tiger, half-buffalo creature given as a traditional gift to the father of the bride-to-be. Hemo's failure and subsequent death at the hands of the tigerfalo became the most viewed, most forwarded mind-video in Plasmo history within hours of his spectacular failure. Of course Hemo never lived to see such fame, as he was making his way through the tigerfalo's digestive tract by the time the whole thing went viral.

Without such technology connecting every living creature, overnight success is very much a misnomer. It takes a great deal of effort to achieve any kind of success in business, or music, or art, or literature, whereas true overnight success generally happens without planning, without intent. Yet even in the most primitive of circumstances, it is possible for a person who, say, heals lepers or feeds five thousand men and their families with a basket of fish and bread to become a true overnight success.

Sulee Minor was far from a primitive world before the plague. But once the planet's rich and well-to-do fled for the moon, the world crashed into a state of darkness. There was no law, no authority, no government whatsoever. There was also surprisingly little violence, looting, and anarchy - again, mostly due to the severity of the plague.

It was into this environment that a boy from Earth named Donny entered on that fateful day. After bearing witness to the resurrection of a Warlord and one of her closest friends, Princess Lita took him straight to the infirmed. He laid hands on one old woman - and the rest, as they say, was history.

Donny was quickly overwhelmed by the ordeal. The sick and the dying crowded around him, begging to be touched, to be healed. And Donny healed them. He did so because he was the Creator, the one who had made everything good these people had known before their illness. He did so because he had the power. Yet he did not understand it, nor did he truly enjoy it. After several hours, he wanted to ask the people to go away, to give him privacy. But how could he? These people were desperately ill. They needed a miracle.

Donny didn't understand it, but he knew he was the miracle.

So it was that word of mouth spread throughout the populated world: the Maker had come. He could heal you with a touch of his hand. The first course of action people took was to come. The second was to tell others.

And then?

Within twenty-four hours of his arrival on Sulee Minor, the people had placed Donny on their throne. Lita, the heir apparent, said nothing to stop the coup. In fact she was first among the nobles left behind to bow before the new monarch.

"This isn't right," Donny tried to tell her. "This isn't my planet. It's yours, and this throne... I made you to rule one day!"

"Perhaps I will," she said. "One day. But take a look around you. Do you really think the people would accept me as their queen with you here?"

Donny saw thousands, spread around the throne, bowing before him, paying homage. They brought him gifts of livestock, produce, and more of that glorious yellow liquid that tasted so much like Mountain Dew. Donny's reluctance to accept this lofty position of power weakened with every tribute. By the time King Renner had arrived, he had become quite comfortable sitting on the throne – though he'd have gladly abdicated to Lita at any time.

Soon as his conferences with the deposed king and Orrin Link concluded, Donny had Pax bring in the Warlord prisoner, Ulee Blix. Ulee was defiant, silent, a sneer on his face as he entered the throne room.

"Kneel!" Pax commanded. When Ulee held his ground, Pax lifted her staff to knock him prostrate. Donny held up a hand to stop her.

"That's not necessary," he said. Pax stood back.

"Thank you for coming," said Donny.

Ulee spat on the ground. "As if I had a choice? In these chains?"

"Pax, take those off, will you?" Pax removed the chains from the wrists of the man who had killed her upon his arrival on Sulee Minor. Her face was emotionless, cold. Ulee stared at her as she took the shackles off his wrists.

"Must eat away at you," he said. "Knowing these hands have already taken your life once."

"That's enough, Ulee," said Donny. "The both of you owe your lives to me now."

"And I suppose you want me to swear loyalty to you?" said Ulee. "Out of the gratitude of my heart?"

"I know you better than that," said Donny. "You're a loyal soldier with ambition. You have a family to take care of, after all."

Ulee nodded. "I supposed you would know all about that."

"I do," said Donny. "I also know, as I'm sure you do, that sending you back to Tarre Kahn would mean a death sentence."

"You know my master well," said Ulee.

Donny smiled. "I created him."

Ulee smiled back. "To my mind, that makes you an even greater devil than him."

That knocked the smile right off Donny's face. Never in a million years would he consider himself, the benevolent creator, to be a threat to the peace loving planets of Arrax. Then again, Ulee was not descended from one of the so-called peace loving races. What the Suleeans saw as salvation, the Warlords perceived as terror. It was an eye opening revelation.

"I know you don't see things the way I do," said Donny. "But if you'll trust me, I'll get you through this. You and your family will live in the peace that is coming."

Ulee nodded again. "And how are you going to make peace, Maker?"

"With your help," he said.

"My help?" said Ulee, amused.

"If we're going to defeat Tarre Kahn and free the planets of the Cave World universe, we're going to need a lot of help."

Donny signaled the guard at the entrance to the throne room. The guard opened the door, and Tor Hobbes entered, tailed by two Vishlunans.

"You called, your Makerness?" Tor grunted.

"Ulee Blix, meet Tor Hobbes," said Donny.

Ulee nodded. "The most wanted man in the western hemisphere."

"Really?" said Tor. "When did they get Lars Speedman?"

"They didn't," said Ulee. "But after your rescue of the princess here, you surpassed him on the list."

"Wow," said Tor. "I bet Lars is gonna be ticked."

"I don't have to tell you all that the odds against us are pretty staggering," said Donny. "Tarre Kahn's forces are spread all across the Cave World, with a military presence on hundreds of worlds. Their weapons are superior. Their armor is nearly impenetrable. But behind their weapons and their armor is a very soft underbelly.

"Ha," Ulee scoffed.

"Let me ask you, Ulee," said Donny. "If the Warlords were to lose Ethesda, Magregia, and Ellora, what would happen?"

Ulee thought for a long moment. "Those are the planets that supply us fresh water." A scowl crossed Ulee's face as he caught on to Donny's logic. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Can you think of a better way to get your people to turn against their leaders?" said Donny. "Perhaps instead we could cut off your supply of metal ore? There are only two planets with the minerals necessary to create the armored plating Dr. Cyn invented. Or better yet, suppose the planet Oveta was suddenly out of your control."

"Without the power source we found on Oveta," said Ulee, "Our ships could not pass through the caves."

"Isn't that interesting?"

Lita smiled. "The mighty Tarre Kahn's nothing but a parasite. We've always known this. But to get the worlds of Arrax to unite against him is--"

"Impossible," said Tor. "Most worlds are too busy fighting with each other to worry about uniting with other planets in a cause. Especially when the one thing they hate more than people from their own world is people from another."

"And yet," said Donny, "It's the only way you'll ever defeat them!"

"Cute," said Ulee, "Very clever. But you'll never muster enough worlds to stand up to Tarre Kahn. The man thinks nothing of slaughtering thousands in an afternoon. He'll do it if it keeps the locals in line."

"He'll do it just because he's a homicidal nut case," said Donny. "But if we're clever about how we liberate the worlds under his control, we can systematically kick the legs out from underneath him. Strand him on Arrax, and he'll be forced to surrender."

"Or go down fighting," said Ulee. "Hate to tell you this, but surrender's just not in his vocabulary."

"And liberating planets is going to take a lot of fire power," added Tor. "You may have Arkangel, and that counts for a heck of a lot. But it's just not enough."

"Which means we need allies," said Donny. He turned to the Vishlunans. "Our friends here have agreed to intercede on our behalf with the Council of Vishluna. We'll have to chase off the slave traders first, but I believe if we do them that favor, we'll find an ally who can do some real damage."

Lita turned to the liberated slaves. "Vishlunans are noted for their peaceful ways. Are you sure the council will go along?"

The taller Vishlunan nodded. "As the son of the second chair in the Council, I will tell my father that our time has come. If peace comes at a price, we must pay our share."

"Pax, take three divisions with you," said Donny. "You'll lead the assault on Vishluna."

"Three divisions won't be enough to liberate Vishluna," said Pax. "And it leaves Sulee Minor nearly defenseless."

"Arkangel will be here to guard the cave," said Donny. "As for Vishluna, all I need is for you to establish a beach head. I'll have an armored, aerial combat force ready to reinforce your troops here and on Vish in short order."

Tor snorted. "You gonna create one out of thin air, O Mighty One?"

"No need," said Donny. "There's one within half a day's flight on Arrax. I'll be taking a delegation to form an alliance with them."

Lita turned her head, intrigued. "Where are we going?"

Donny smiled. He activated the projector, pressing the red button on the throne. Orrin appeared in the midst of the group.

"Commander Orrin," said Donny. "Report?"

"All is quiet at the target," said Orrin. "The night watch is on duty; just a few men on the wall."

"Proceed with the attack."

Orrin nodded, then blinked out. Donny activated another projector on the west wall of the throne room. A green-tinted night vision display from the front of Arkangel appeared on the wall. Ulee gasped as the airship rose and bore down on the heavily fortified installation in front of a cave.

"Who are we bombing?" asked Tor.

"Spikor!" Ulee whispered under his breath.

Tor turned to Donny. "You really do have a death wish, don't you?"

Lita hushed them as she watched the video screen. Arkangel shed her cloaking device and unleashed a furious volley of artillery. The guns on the top wall went down first; then the walls crumbled under the barrage of artillery. Smoke and flames rose from the installation. Then a giant fireball washed out the screen for a few seconds.

And then, it was over.

The red light on the throne flashed. Donny activated the projector, and Orrin appeared in front of him once more.

"Yes, commander?"

Orrin let out a shout. "I love this bird! Did you see that?"

"We all did," said Lita.

The smoke on the wall image cleared. All that remained of the military outpost was slag and rubble.

"Looks like a clean kill," said Orrin.

"Good work," said Donny. "Hold your position and wait for our arrival." Donny killed the transmission.

Tor shook his head. "You're crazy," he said. "You want to make nice with the king of Spikor?"

"Even Tarre Kahn knows not to mess with Spikor!" said Ulee. "Why do you think they had that guard station set up?"

Donny smiled. "Can you think of a better ally to help us take him down?"
**Chapter Twelve:  
Spikor**

Much as he would hate to admit it, the environment in which Donny did most of his creation – the classroom – had a dramatic impact on the shape of things in the universe of the Cave World. Case in point, a research paper Donny wrote just a year earlier played a not insignificant role in the development of one of Arrax's most dangerous peoples.

As the United States government sought to clear more of the North American continent for European settlers, they found themselves running into an ever-present and annoying obstacle: the original inhabitants. The Native American population, a proud people who were not keen to see their favorite hunting grounds cleared in favor of saloons, farms, and strip malls, fought valiantly, but the superior technology and fighting strategies of the white man forced the general population into a retreat across the continent. The government of the newly formed United States began settling peace treaties with the former occupants, shipping them off to reservations here and there. It was a bitter pill for the native people to swallow, becoming prisoners in their own land, forced to live under the thumb of the invading conquerors.

But there was one tribe that managed to resist the advance of the white man. One nation refused to surrender, to accept the bogus peace treaties thrown at it by the government. One people found a distinctive advantage in the swamplands that allowed them to fight back the advancing armies, inflicting heavy casualties and forcing the government to surrender the territory they had staked out as their own.

They were the unconquered; they were the Seminoles.

While other tribes backpedaled across the plains and deserts of the west, the Seminoles retreated south through Florida into the Everglades. It was here they made their stand, refusing to surrender to those who wanted to enslave them and ship them off to a reservation. Unable to evict the Seminoles from the marshes of south Florida, the army chose instead to leave them there. They were stuck in the Everglades, still technically at war with the United States - but they were free.

Donny had not a drop of Seminole blood in him, but his father was a proud member of the Seminole nation - meaning he had graduated from Florida State University. He even played for the mighty Seminoles on the football field for three years before an ankle injury sidelined him for good. Donny learned of the legacy of the Seminoles from his father, and that legacy became the inspiration for the people of the planet Spikor.

"What do you know about them?" Lita asked Tor, sitting in the back of the royal shuttlecraft. The princess was dressed in a purple formal gown, her hair done in a dozen or so braids with gold ribbons twisted through them. Tor was in a dingy flight suit, the cleanest outfit he had available at the time they left Sulee Minor.

"I met one once," said Tor. "Did a spice run for them, by way of the planet Kissel. Strange people. Ship was dark, only got a glimpse at one or two of them. They don't seem to like the light."

"They are nocturnal," said Ulee, looking very nervous strapped in the seat beside Tor. "And they drink blood."

"Superstitions," said Tor, with more hope than certainty in his voice.

"Are you certain of that?" Lita winked at the trader, a gesture that almost cracked a smile on his lips.

"You want certain?" said Tor. "Let's just ask the Almighty."

Donny didn't catch the remark. He was too busy looking on the pilot and co-pilot with pity. Lita nudged him. "How about it, Donny? What can you tell us about Spikor?"

Donny turned back to Lita. "I wish you had listened to me," he said. "Tor is more than capable of flying us there."

"Commander Byars and Lt. Hellas have been part of my security detail since I was a girl. They can handle themselves just fine."

Donny wasn't so sure. "I just would rather not have taken the risk."

"I don't mind it," said Tor. "If there's fighting to be done, there's strength in numbers."

"Six versus a whole planet," said Ulee. "I do not like those odds."

"We're not here for a fight," said Lita. "We're diplomats, and we--"

She paused as the ship began to slow, descending from the skies of Arrax toward the cave that led to their destination.

"Last chance to bail," said Commander Byars over his shoulder. "Anyone who wants out, this is the place."

Donny turned to Lita, speaking in a low voice. "Please, your highness, send Byars and Hellas back on Arkangel."

Lita shook her head. "My men are more than capable of handling themselves in combat," said Lita. "Besides, we're here on a diplomatic mission. We're not looking for a fight."

Donny wanted to warn her that diplomacy on Spikor was not the kind she had grown accustomed to on Sulee Minor and dozens of other worlds. But he kept silent, for fear of losing those on the crew who did know how to fight - Ulee and Tor specifically.

Byars set the hovercraft down at the entrance to the cave. On the port side of the craft, Commander Orrin appeared, stepping outside the safety of Arkangel's cloaking device.

"Your highness, we've observed no movement from the cave since we took down the Warlord defenses," he said.

"Very good, Commander," said Lita. "Head back to Sulee Minor as quick as you can."

Orrin glanced at the crew inside the Sulee ship. "I wish I were going with you. If there's a trap--"

"There will be no trap," said Lita with confidence. "These people strike fear into the heart of Tarre Kahn himself. We will be fine."

"Not sure how that's supposed to make me feel any better," said Orrin. "See you all back on Sulee Minor - if you survive."

Orrin shut the door of the transport and walked back to Arkangel. Once the battle bird was in the air, Donny turned to Byars.

"Okay, Commander, take us in."

Donny noticed Lita staring out the Byars put the ship back in gear, moving forward on the ground. The wings folded to the sides of the ship as they approached the cave. They were soon enveloped by total darkness.

When the Sulee ship emerged on planet Spikor, there wasn't much more light than in the cave. Byars let out a low whistle as he gazed on the dark planet. They were surrounded by towering structures that looked almost entirely unlike trees. They were leather and gangly, with vines forming a giant web between them. The ground was soft and wet, making traction poor. Byars gave the order, and Hellas extended the wings, allowing the ship to rise above the murky soil.

The sky was dark and black, dotted with stars in-between smoggy clouds. A blood red moon hung at three quarters in the sky.

"Where do we go from here?" said Byars aloud, hoping someone might have an answer.

"Stick to the path through the wood," said Donny. There should be a guard post up ahead.

Sure enough, they found the guards waiting on hoverbikes in the trees. The hoverbikes were cobbled together from scrap metal with menacing faces carved in steel on the front of each bike. Atop the bikes, the rides wore black garments that seemed to flutter - though there was no wind whatsoever in this dead forest. Both riders wore metal facemasks with narrow holes for eyes. Their hair stood out on all sides, wild and untamed.

The radio crackled inside the Suleean ship. "You don't look like Warlords."

Lita leaned over the control panel and clicked on the microphone. "This is Princess Lita of Sulee Minor."

"Are you the one who destroyed the outpost at the entrance to our world?" the voice came back.

"We are," she said. "We seek an audience with your king."

"The king will decide whether he sees you or kills you," said the voice, a tinge of laughter behind it. "Stick to our tail, if you know what's good for you."

The two hoverbikes clicked on red headlights and paired up in front of the ship, hitting their jets simultaneously. Byars quickly shifted the craft into gear to follow them.

The hoverbikes made no attempt to take it easy on their guests as they darted through the trees at high speed, but Byars proved more than capable as he kept pace with the escort. Donny had to strap himself in to keep from being thrown about the rear of the ship as they bounced over fallen trees and slipped sideways between narrow gaps.

They soon emerged from the forest and flew out over a vast canyon that seemed to stretch for miles. The ground was far below them now, dead and black with streams of lava and ash forming a glowing web on the ground. Volcanic openings in the ground spewed smoke and lava constantly. Donny and the others could feel the intense heat inside the ship.

"I can't believe any form of life would want to live here," said Hellas.

"I told you, they are creatures of the night," said Ulee. "Do you see daylight? The entire planet is covered in eternal midnight, with the volcanic discharges the only real light to speak of."

Ahead, the travelers could see the royal tower of Spikor, an ominous, tall castle stretching from the volcanic basin below to the lower edge of the clouds. The entire facade was black, with jagged edges, angry gargoyles, and deadly spikes protruding in all directions. The site gave Donny a cold chill. It was more frightening and beautiful than he ever dreamed it would be.

The radio crackled once more. "You are clear for landing on platform thirteen."

"Thank you," said Byars. He slowed the ship and followed the bikes to a platform about halfway up the tower. The digits 1 and 3 could be seen carved into the platform in blood red letters as the ship slowly descended.

Donny turned to Lita, who threw on a royal cape of dark purple sheer material. "Byars, Hellas, leave your side arms here," she said. "We're on a peaceful mission. I want these people to know we do not come to bring war."

"You're taking an awful risk," said Ulee, who was sweating profusely.

Lita smiled, then slowly pulled up her gown - revealing a monstrous looking blaster strapped to her right calf. "I never take risks," said the Princess. "Wipe your brow, and come on."

Lita led the small band of delegates out the side door of the craft. No sooner were they on the deck, a red door leading into the black tower opened. There were nine of them in all, tall gangly figures in black, unmatched clothes with ghostly-pale skin and damp, fine hair on their heads. Their faces were stretched, gaunt, and they bore razor-sharp teeth as they approached the princess. They carried an arsenal of weaponry on their backs and at their sides, with chain mail draped at varying points over their black garments. Yellow, blood-shot eyes surveyed each of the delegates as they surrounded Lita and her crew.

"I am Princess Lita of Sulee Minor," said Lita, confident and strong. "We seek an audience with your king."

One of the Spikor greeting party cackled. "I am Melchior, aide to his majesty. He is most pleased to welcome you. Your reputation as a warrior precedes you."

"Thank you," said Lita.

"His majesty wishes to know the purpose of your visit," said Melchior.

"We come seeking an alliance against our common enemy, the Warlords," said Lita. "We want to overthrow Tarre Kahn and set the planets of the Cave World Arrax free."

"Then it was you," said Melchior, "Who took out the blockade on our cave."

Lita nodded. "We have Arkangel."

Melchior smiled. "Then you are as brave and foolish as legend says. Come, then. Let's not keep the king waiting. He will wish to thank you, his liberators."

Melchior spun fluidly toward the red door. Six other Spikors formed up around Lita, Donny, Ulee, Tor, and the two pilots, guiding them inside the tower, with two remaining behind.

"Is my ship going to be okay?" asked Byars.

"Why do you think we stripped her down before we left home?" whispered Donny. "They're pirates. They're going to give her the once over.

Byars looked back, obviously worried about the ship. Donny knew he had much graver things to worry about.

The red door led into an arched passageway, cut out of the rock, lit by fluorescent lights that gave just enough illumination for travelers to pass safely. The ground was hard, black, cold, as were the craggy walls and roof. As Donny expected, Melchior led them down a series of halls, passing countless doors and dozens of Spikors, all of whom stopped to stare hungrily at the visitors. The whole exercise was not without purpose; the Spikors would rather not have their guests knowing the easy way out. It made it much more difficult for would-be escapees to actually make their escape. It also made Donny sorry he had not bothered to sketch out a map of the tower himself. If things went bad, not even he could guarantee they would get out alive.

At last they came into an open chamber as long and wide as three football fields, lined with tables and benches filled with reveling pirates, both male and female. The partiers hardly slowed down to notice the strangers in their midst as they made their way down the center aisle towards the platform on which the king sat with his favorite maidens. Even the king took a moment to notice that his servant Melchior had arrived and stood waiting to make introductions.

"Your majesty," Melchior said at last, "Princess Lita of Sulee Minor."

The king pushed a young woman out of his way, giving him a better look at the princess and Donny his first glimpse of King Barshazzar. He was tall, about seven feet tall, with an enormous head, a barrel chest, and giant timbers for limbs. He wore a black coat; open with no shirt beneath, and black trousers that were well-worn. Black hair fell over his shoulders and into his eyes, hair he pushed back as he gazed on the princess.

"Princess Lita," he said in a booming voice, his sharp teeth glistening with blood. "Welcome to my world. And thank you for removing the pesky blockage for us."

"It was my honor," said Lita.

"What is the purpose of this visit?" the Spikor king inquired.

"We wish to form an alliance," said Lita. "We want to unite with you to overthrow Tarre Kahn and the Warlords."

The Spikors cackled in muted voices as Barshazzar rubbed his chin, thinking over the princess's words. "Arrax has no appeal for my people," he finally said. "We are nocturnal creatures. The sun has an ill effect on us. And Arrax has far too much of it for our liking. Therefore, we have no quarrel with Tarre Kahn."

"This is true," said Lita. "But even you must agree that Tarre Kahn has lived off the spoils of your planet without proper payment for far too long. He has mined your lava fields for the materials to make his armor and fortify his troops, without repayment. And he has kept you here under lock and key, imprisoned on your own home world. That is why we destroyed the blockade. That is why I expect you to join our rebellion now."

"As I said, we greatly appreciate your actions on our behalf," said Barshazzar. "We monitored your strike on the outpost when it happened, although we were a bit puzzled as to what sort of weapon was used."

"It was Arkangel," said Lita.

The look on Barshazzar's face showed he was impressed. "Then you realize you are at war, whether we help you or not."

"I do," said Lita.

"And I would be well-advised to simply leave you to Tarre Kahn's judgment, if I so chose."

"I do," said Lita. "But I don't believe you will."

The king flashed a smile, lined with sharp teeth. "We shall consider it. But first, the Rite of Kalagan must be observed."

Ulee turned to Donny. "The rite of what?"

Donny flushed; he had taken a gamble, withholding this one bit of information from the crew. It was the whole reason he did not want to bring Byars and Hellas along. Donny noticed that the party had quieted down and that the revelers were migrating toward them in anticipation of the rite.

"I'm afraid I am not familiar with your rites," said the princess. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all." Barshazzar returned to his throne. "It is our custom on Spikor to give all visitors a test. As we do not consort with those we deem unworthy of our company, you shall be tested, man on man. Should half or more of your company survive, we will discuss your alliance further. If you lose..."

The crowd cheered and hooted in anticipation. Two of them rushed forward and drug Hellas out into the open.

"This one!" cried one of the pirates. "Let him be first to take the test!"

Byars started forward, but Lita held him back with a hand. "Very well. What is your test?"

Barshazzar smiled with a shrug. "He must fight to the death."

The crowd cheered. Hellas turned toward Lita, nervously. Barshazzar called out one of his warriors, who stepped from the throng into the open, a broadsword drawn. Hellas dodged the first blow, a downward thrust. He ducked a swing aimed at his head. He leapt forward to tackle the pirate - just as the towering fighter withdrew a second blade from his belt. Hellas fell onto the knife with a grunt.

Donny winced. Lita gasped. The victor lifted Hellas into the air, basking in the cheers of his fellow Spikors. He slung poor Hellas over his shoulder and raced out of the hall.

"Stop!" shouted Lita. "Where are they talking him?"

"To the dining hall," said Barshazzar. "We have strict rules in this palace. No food in the grand hall."

"You're going to eat him?" Lita cried.

"Goodness, no, Princess, we are not cannibals," Barshazzar chuckled. "We are vampires."
**Chapter Thirteen:  
The Rite of Kalagan**

It was a standard plot device in science fiction: the hero or heroes must pass a test to prove their mettle. Captain Kirk faced many such challenges. So did Flash Gordon and Luke Skywalker. It was part of the hero's journey, and Donny made sure his heroes – Lita, Tor, and Ulee – were more than capable of winning the Rite of Kalagan.

Sadly, neither Hellas nor Byars fell into that category, which was reason number one Donny wanted to leave them behind. Donny looked on in sadness as Byars took up a weapon and went to meet his fate.

Lita grabbed him by the arm and bore down on him in anger. "What is this? What have you done to us?" Lita hissed.

"I forgot about this," said Donny. "I swear."

"Are we going to die?" Tor demanded.

"You?" said Donny. "And the princess? No." He spoke in a low voice, not wanting to reveal more of who he was. "You three should all be okay. But your men—"

The zing of a broadsword marked the end of Byars' courageous stand. The winning Spikor drug Byars off to the dining hall as the playing area cleared for round three.

Tor looked at the Princess. "Guess it's up to us to even things."

Without giving the trader a chance to take the lead, the princess snatched a sword from a nearby Spikor and leapt into the battle zone. Barshazzar signaled a fierce looking female to confront Lita. The woman unrolled a cat-a-nine-tails and strolled into the center of the room.

The women stared each other down, moving backwards as they circled around tone another. The female Spikor snarled and spat, while Lita kept cool. Donny couldn't help smiling; the princess would never strike first. But she would strike last.

The attack came with ferocious speed. Shrieking, the female pirate slung the whip overhead and brought it down toward Lita. The princess nimbly rolled aside as the shards of metal tied to the whip sliced through the air, striking a spectator who stood just a little too close to the action. The wounded Spikor screamed, grabbing his face, causing his sister warrior to hesitate.

Lita struck fast. With her free hand, she caught the whip and pulled her opponent onto her sword, ending the battle with the pirate's last yelp. Lita kicked the corpse to the floor and stepped back.

"To the victor go the spoils," said Barshazzar, gesturing to the body."

"I ate before I came," said Lita.

"Two to one," said Barshazzar. "You need to win three more, Princess."

Tor gave Ulee a nudge in the back with his elbows. The Spikors cheered, eager to see the blood of a Warlord spilt on their floor. A lithe, acrobatic Spikor stepped forward, turning a no-hands cartwheel as she spun two small daggers between her fingers. The leather suit seemed to move with the deadly assassin as she closed in on Ulee.

Ulee glared back at Tor. "Thanks."

"Don't get killed by a girl," said Tor.

The woman swiped Ulee's cheek, drawing blue blood out onto his blue skin. The crowd cheered as Ulee touched the bloody wound.

"Well, if that's how you want it," said Ulee, squaring himself up to face the woman.

A quick flip in the air ended with two feet crashing into Ulee's head. He rolled to the ground and was quickly on his feet as the woman flipped toward him again, her fellow pirates cheering her on. Two strikes and she had cut open Ulee's shirt, barely missing his skin with a lethal strike.

Ulee smiled, nodding. "Shoulda gone deeper."

Once again the blades flew. This time, two strong, blue hands grasped the wrists of Ulee's would-be killer, twisting them back and into the body of their owner. Life drained from her face as the pirate woman went limp and fell to the floor. Lee gave her a kick to make sure she was finished and shrugged.

"I'll, uh, I'll eat later," he quipped.

Barshazzar applauded the Warlord politely before turning his gaze to Tor. "Good to see you again, Tor."

Tor cleared his throat. "Always a pleasure."

Melchior drew his sword and stepped forward, his eyes drawing Tor in for the challenge. Tor took the sword from Lita and stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the pirate.

"No, no, no, Melchior," said Barshazzar. "The trader will have your head in a minute. And you are much too valuable."

Melchior grunted at the insult, but sheathed his sword and stepped back. Barshazzar smiled at Tor.

"I've waited a long time for this," said the pirate king. "Dagon!"

The floor shook at his footsteps. Dagon was over eight feet tall, and as he stepped through the crowd toward Tor, Donny could hear even the locals gasping. Despite the fear running through his veins and the very real possibility that Tor might lose this battle, Donny couldn't help being impressed with his own imagination. Dagon was as fierce and terrifying as anything he'd seen in this world, with razor sharp claws, teeth filed to deadly points, and rippling muscles peering through the tears in his leather coat and pants.

Dagon didn't have a sword. A long club accented with a few spikes was his tool of choice. The club was nearly as tall as Tor, who took a few steps back, realizing he could not match the giant's reach with that death stick in hand.

"If this is about Quinius Five," said Tor, "Once again, I am really sorry."

Barshazzar laughed. He signaled Dagon, who swung his club toward Tor in a blow so swift, it caught two bystanders in the front of the crowd before they saw it coming. The Spikors fell to the ground dead, while Tor rolled aside, lucky to be alive. Wary of their great champion and his wide swing, the by-standers let the bodies lie where they fell rather than risk dying in mid-feast on their fallen comrades.

Dagon circled after his prey, measuring him for another blow. The crowd drew back. Tor followed them, not at all concerned that his proximity might cause the deaths of a few more spectators.

Dagon leapt at Tor, swinging the club overhead and smashing it toward the ground. Once again, Tor ducked to the side. He grabbed a small axe from the belt of a nearby Spikor and hurled it at Dagon, catching his shoulder. The giant growled in pain.

The ax-less Spikor kicked Tor in the back, sending him flopping onto the ground, face first. Dagon swung at him once more, but Tor rolled away from the blow – directly into Dagon's feet. It wasn't enough impact to knock the monster over, but it brought him close enough to bite his shins.

Dagon roared in pain. He caught Tor in the back with the club once, but missed the second time – smashing his own shins and gouging them with the spikes. Tor, dazed but back on his feet, chopped at the giant's ankle with his own foot, toppling him to the ground.

Tor grabbed another sword from a spectator. As the giant Dagon raised up, Tor speared him, tossing the sword business end first into the monster's chest.

Dagon wobbled, groaning in more shock than pain. His eyes fell on the sword sticking out of his body before rolling up into his head. Then he collapsed, and died.

Barshazzar sighed. "Once again, the notorious Tor Hobbes proves invincible."

"Enough of this," demanded Lita. "We've dispatched three of yours; you've killed two of ours. Let's talk."

"I believe there is one of your party left to prove himself."

All eyes turned to Donny. Tor clapped him on the shoulder as he hobbled out of the way. "Nice knowing you, kid."

"You better hope the young man is victorious, Tor," said Barshazzar. "The rite cannot end in a tie. If he does not win and give you a decisive victory, then all of you will die."

Lita was more affirming. "You can do this. You better. Or all this you made will be for nothing."

Barshazzar leapt off his throne and strolled over to Dagon's carcass. He extracted the sword from the giant's chest, and turned to face Donny. "Come now, boy. It's your day to be a hero!"

The crowd laughed and jeered at the boy. Two Spikors grabbed his arms and swung him into the battle zone. Donny's mind raced as he kept his eyes on the circling pirate king.

It occurred to Donny that Barshazzar, like every other creature in this universe, existed at his whim. Donny could snatch the breath from his lungs with a thought. Yes, yes, he could! But the idea of killing a man in such a way gave him chills. There had to be another way, and if he could avoid killing...

Donny's feet bumped into Dagon's body. Of course! What was more terrifying than death? The power over death! Donny glanced up at Barshazzar, still taunting him as he moved in. Donny reached down and touched Dagon's chest. Barshazzar charged.

His sword plunged straight into the gut of Dagon, who now stood erect. The giant looked down at the hilt of the sword, then roared at the pale, frightened pirate king.

"What is this?" the king shouted, his whole body trembling. Dagon yanked the sword out of his belly and turned it on Barshazzar, who trembled with fear. The circle around the battle zone widened as the entire assembly reacted to the sudden resurrection of their champion with terror.

"I yield!" the king shouted at Donny. "Whatever enchantments you have cast over this dead man, remove them, and we will make an alliance with you."

Dagon growled again, a growl that faded to a quiet, guttural sound. The sword dropped from Dagon's hand. The giant's body went limp, falling on top of the screaming, terrified king. Two other Spikors raced forward to pull him out from under the giant. Barshazzar took a moment to compose himself, then he turned to Donny once again.

"Who are you? Some sort of sorcerer?"

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," said Tor. "So let's just say, he's with us."

Barshazzar slowly made his way back to the throne. He dismissed the crowd, save for Melchior and a few guards. He waited until the room cleared before speaking again.

"Princess Lita," he said. "Let us make our plans for war."

"Please have your men escort Mr. Hobbes back to our ship," said Donny.

Tor looked at the boy inquisitively. "Something I need to know?"

"We need you to warm up the ship," said Donny. "You're the best pilot we have left. Soon as we're done here, we're leaving."

Tor didn't believe him, but he left anyway, following Melchior and his men.

"Now, your majesty," said Donny. "What I have to share with you stays among the four of us."

Barshazzar eyed Ulee. "The four?"

Ulee looked at Donny, then Barshazzar. "Don't look at me. He's the one calling the shots."

The pirate king sneered at the boy. "And who are you to give terms?"

"Aside from being the guy who nearly ended your reign?" said Donny, a rare air of cockiness in his voice. "I'm the guy who gave you life."

"Ha!" Barshazzar sneered. "You should have destroyed me. Mercy is an act of weakness."

"I wasn't talking about the Rite, your highness. I created you and your whole world."

The words sunk in slowly. Barshazzar looked at Lita. She nodded.

"It's true," said Lita.

Barshazzar smiled. "Well then, if you have a purpose for me in this, you better clue me in."
**Chapter Fourteen:  
Vishluna**

Every planet has its own myths and legends, stories steeped in real history that have been exaggerated, blown up, and expanded over time by storytellers, eager to widen the eyes of young listeners. Children of Sulee Minor, for example, were told stories about the Nepturi, giants over twenty feet tall with huge battle axes who once saved the planet from a deadly serpent. In truth, the Nepturi were, on average, eight to ten inches taller than their normal Sulee counterparts, and the deadly serpent was a politician who ran afoul of then-monarch Kree the Third. But children don't care about above average heights and politics. They'd much rather hear about giants and serpents.

Likewise, Donny never bothered with the factual details of legendary pirates and Vlad the Impaler. The legends of blood thirsty pirates and vampires were much more interesting in their tall tale form – though not near as fascinating as when Donny combined them to create the Spikors. How often he had drawn pictures of vampire pirates from outer space descending on an unsuspecting populace, wreaking havoc and destruction everywhere they went. Matter of fact, the Spikors were the first race fully fleshed out in Donny's imagination – even before he had tied his little universe together with the Cave World.

So it was with eager anticipation Donny watched out the windows of their small transport as the Spikor fleet made its way out of the cave and into the skies of Vishluna. Since conceiving of this tenuous alliance on Sulee Minor, he had looked forward to seeing them in action. They did not disappoint.

The sudden, over-whelming arrival of the Spikor fleet on Vishluna was not a moment too soon for Pax, who had found herself and her men overwhelmed by the Garbarrian slave traders. The scream of engines from the Spikor flying machines gave Pax a jolt; her life flashed before her eyes as she turned, expecting the new arrivals to be Warlords, come to give reinforcement to the Garbarrians. She was greatly relieved when she saw the blood-thirsty pirates charge hard against the hairy slave traders.

The Garbarrians dropped their weapons and ran, but there was no escape from the swift-moving Spikors. With swords drawn and fangs bared, the Spikors tore their former oppressors apart, leaving no enemy alive – or even in one piece.

Tor held back his ship, allowing Lita and Donny to survey the battlefield as Barshazzar's forces made quick work of the adversary. Ulee had chosen to ride with the new allies, eager to shed a little blood for the cause. (He never really liked the Garbarrians anyway.) Tor landed the ship near Pax and her bodyguards. Pax, bleeding but alive, raced toward the princess.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," she said.

"The negotiations with the Spikors were more complicated than we thought." The Princess gave a look to Donny, then continued. "But we gained a valuable ally."

Pax looked out on the battlefield, where two Spikors feasted on the dying body of a slave trader. "So, those are the Spikors."

The princess nodded. "Our new allies."

Pax looked away from the grisly sight. "I'm glad they're on our side."

As soon as the battle ended, the bulk of the Spikor armada made a quick exit, preferring not to be around when the bright Vishlunan sun appeared through the haze of battle. The Suleean forces remained and went right to working helping the Vishlunans to clear away the wreckage. Within a few hours, a group of Suleean troopers uncovered an unexpected prize: one of Dr. Cyn's MUT devices. They handed the device to their princess. Lita shared the news with Donny, who advised her to stow it away for safe keeping.

Barshazzar remained with a small entourage, following the Princess and her delegation to the Vishlunan Temple, seat of power before the Vish had become slaves. The visitors were shown to their quarters and asked to wait a day for the Council to meet and consider the proposed alliance.

Barshazzar and the Spikors took a wing of the temple to themselves, hiding behind two large doors at the end of a hallway. Lita and her rag tag group were given another wing. Ulee couldn't help but notice how closely the Vish kept an eye on him.

"I guess I can't blame them," he grumbled. "I used to shuttle them to the fortress."

"They'll learn to trust you," said Donny. "Give it time."

"I doubt I'll ever be able to trust them," Ulee replied.

Donny, Tor, and Ulee each took a room to themselves, while Pax shared one with the Princess, afraid to leave her unguarded on a foreign planet. The Vishlunans provided new clothes and sundries for each guest and invited them to clean up before dinner. Donny, exhausted from the trip, never made it to a tub. He crashed on the bed and slept.

He woke a few hours later, Tor banging on his door. "Get up, kid. The Vish wanna meet their maker."

Donny got up and shook himself awake. "Be right there!" he shouted, diving into a monstrous stretch. He knew he didn't have time to bathe, but he opted to change clothes anyway. Tor kept pounding at the door as he did. "Just a minute." He slipped into the green, one piece jumpsuit provided to him by the Vishlunans, then rushed to the door – where Tor stood in his same, old, dusty pilot's gear.

"Are we not going formal?" quipped Donny.

"Did you see what they gave me?" Tor grumbled. "It's a robe; a big, burgundy job makes me look like a tent."

Ulee, himself dressed in a Vishlunan jumpsuit, strolled to join them. "The Vish are not a rotund race, unlike you humans."

Tor glared at the Warlord. "When I want your opinion, blue boy..."

Tor stopped, silenced by the sight at the end of the hall. The door of Lita's room was open. Pax, dressed in a formal military uniform, stepped outside, followed by the princess who, for the first time since Donny arrived on Arrax, legitimately looked like a princess.

Lita's gown was full-length, a black, shimmering affair that flared out around her feet. The dress had long sleeves, and the top was cut low enough to display a necklace adorned with shimmering black jewels. She wore a red, jeweled headband in her jet black hair, and her fair skin accented her brilliant eyes and red lips.

Ulee looked at Tor and Donny, then the princess. "I believe the sudden silence of my two companions is a clear indication that they find your current attire alluring.

"Was that a compliment, Ulee Blix?" asked Lita.

Ulee nudged the others. Donny shut his mouth, then stammered, "Yes, it was. I mean, you do look, wow."

Lita nodded, turning her eyes on Tor.

"Well, I feel under dressed." The gruff trader turned and headed down the hall. Lita's face soured. She and Pax fell in behind the guys as they made their way to the dining hall.

The dining hall was in disrepair, thanks to the guns of the now vanquished Garbarrians, but the Vishlunans had gone to some trouble last minute to make it hospitable for their guests. A table was set in the middle of the room, clear of debris and rubble, with plush chairs around it and a fine linen on top. A series of fat candles gave light to the table, arranged a few feet apart down the length of the table. Everyone stood behind Lita, willing to take their cues from the seasoned diplomat. Lita waited calmly, expecting their host to arrive at any moment.

A tall Vishlunan entered the room a few minutes after them through another door. His robes were worn and tattered, but he wore them with pride and dignity – a being happy to feel freedom for the first time in a generation. Behind him strolled two humans in robes – monks. Donny recognized Ratch and Cobb immediately, along with their host, High Council Bish.

"Your highness, it is an honor," said Bish, bowing as he took Lita's hand. "I am High Council Bish."

"Thank you, Council," said Lita. "May I introduce my companions?"

"Your friends need no introduction," said Bish. "We are well aware of your exploits with Mr. Hobbes, and the young maker." He looked up at Ulee. "And you must be our turncoat."

Ulee shifted his feet. "That's not the way I'd put it, but okay."

"You fought valiantly to help liberate our planet," said Bish. "We welcome you as one of our own."

Ulee grinned. "Thank you. And, you're welcome"

Lita tilted her eyes toward the monks. "Ratch, Cobb, it is a surprise to see you here."

"It seems it is destiny," said Ratch. "Congratulations on your effort with the Spikors, a most extraordinary alliance."

"Thank you," said Lita.

Ratch nodded. "We sense there is great opportunity at hand. The worlds of Arrax can be free once more, if all goes well."

High Council Bish suggested they all have a seat at the table, to discuss matters further. The monks started to inquire about the Spikor delegation, but Donny answered for them. "They've had a bloody battle today. They need time alone."

"Grieving their dead?" asked Cobb.

Donny shook his head. "Eating them."

Ulee shuddered again. Bish gave an awkward smile, then summoned for the meal to be served.

"The Gordics arrived here shortly before you, Princess," said Bish. "They say that the time has come for us to stand up against those who oppressed us."

"I'm relieved to hear that," said the Princess.

"We are not a warrior culture," said Bish. "But we are strong. We choose not to fight – but we can. And we will."

"We can't do this without you," said Donny. "It's going to take all of us – Lita, you, and Barshazzar – to make it happen." Donny caught a strange look in Cobb's eye as he spoke. The monk had been staring at him since before the meal even began.

"Your word carries great weight," said Bish. "Still, my faith is with the followers of Gordo. We have consented to fight with you, but only because they have advised us to do so."

"We are happy to have you," said Lita.

"Of course, we have no weapons of our own," said Bish.

Lita nodded. "We will provide you with weapons and training in how to use them."

"How do you intend to transport us to the battle zone?" asked Bish. "I assume we're going to make our stand on Arrax."

"My lieutenant here will get you ships," said Lita, indicating Tor, who bristled at the comment.

"If her highness cares to properly motivate me, I might consider it."

"Don't play games now, Tor," said Lita. "Just do as you're asked."

"You don't get it. I'm only here because I'm number one on Tarre Kahn's hit list. I could care less about liberating worlds."

"You can't be that cold," said Lita, getting angry. "There's a heart in you. I've seen it in action."

"I'm not your errand boy!" shouted Tor. "If I don't get paid—"

The door slammed shut. Everyone turned to see Barshazzar and his entourage. "So, party at Tarre Kahn's tomorrow?"

"We have a problem," said Lita. "It seems Tor doesn't feel up to the task of securing transports for the Vish."

"We can't win without them," said Barshazzar. "And we don't have the space. But I bet I could find us a ship or two on Lariat."

"I hate to bother you with such a menial task," said Lita, jabbing at Tor.

"If this is all that holds us up from shedding blue blood in the fortress of Arrax, we'll gladly do your dirty work."

"I'll do it," said Tor, growling.

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Barshazzar.

"I said I'll do it," Tor snarled louder.

"But your compensation," taunted Lita.

Tor looked up at her, murder in his eyes. "I said I'll do it. No one knows those crooks like I do. Not you, and not that wacko either."

Lita smiled, her battle won. "Then it is settled. Tor and Donny will go to Lariat. Barshazzar, we will have you help us in training the people of Vishluna."

"Very well," said Barshazzar. With a flamboyant wave, he turned with his attendants and left.

With the Spikors gone, Lita went on to discuss the political situation on Vishluna, offering her advice and financial assistance to the High Council. It was politics, and it bored Donny to tears. He excused himself before dessert and slipped out of the temple, hoping to take a look around at another world he alone had created.

Donny walked out on the expansive back veranda of the temple to survey the planet he had visualized in his mind so many times. It wasn't just as he had imagined it, with majestic marble buildings and monoliths. After so many years of war, it was just a shadow of its former self, not unlike ancient Greece back home. Donny couldn't help but feel partially responsible. He had created the Warlords. He had made the Vish into the easily-conquered people they are.

"Soon, the Vishlunans will rebuild." Donny turned; it was Cobb who spoke. "They will be free. And all this rubble, just a memory."

"I hope so," said Donny.

"It isn't easy, is it?" asked Cobb. "Being the master of the world? Seeing the side effects of decisions made."

Donny shook his head. "But this isn't real. It can't be. I made it all up."

"And yet, here you are," said Cobb. "Every inch of it, real as can be."

Donny touched the stone wall that ran the length of the veranda. He could feel the bumps of the stone beneath his finger tips. It sure felt real.

"Then this is my fault," said Donny.

Cobb shrugged. "An imperfect being creates a world of his own. It's bound to be flawed. It's in your DNA. Therefore, it's in the DNA of your children."

"I have to fix it," said Donny, turning to the monk. "It can be fixed, right?"

Cobb nodded. "It can. And it will. But it will come at a price."

Donny's stomach flipped nervously. "What kind of price?"

The monk adjusted his hood. "The same price a perfect creator paid to save his fallen creation."

Donny had been to Sunday School; it didn't take but a few seconds for it to register.

"I have to die?"

The monk walked away, silently.

Donny called out again: "I have to die?"

There was no answer. Donny turned back, gazing over the landscape. How could he, the creator, the author of all life on this world and hundreds more, die? Wouldn't the worlds that depended on him die with him?

Donny watched the sun set on Vishluna, then he went back inside. On the way to his room, he heard a door slam. As he looked up, he could see Tor, coming from the Princess's room toward him.

"You're coming with me," he said. "We leave first thing."

Tor slipped inside his room, banging the door hard behind him.

Donny went on to his room. He lay on the bed, eyes wide open. He lay there for hours, mulling over the monk's cryptic words over and over, uncertain how in the world this was going to change anything.

"I'm going to die?"
**Chapter Fifteen:  
Lariat Again**

Tor woke Donny up before dawn arrived on Vishluna. Half-asleep, and half-dressed, Donny trailed after the trader, who was clearly angry about something – though Donny was clueless as to what.

He soon found out.

"So," said Tor as he lifted Arkangel off the deck and into the sky. "You are the Creator, right?"

Donny looked at Tor, then out the window. "I guess I am."

"You guess," said Tor.

"Okay, yes," said Donny. "I created this world."

"And all the other ones," said Tor.

"All the worlds connected by the Cave World," said Donny.

"You just do this for fun?" said Tor. "Build your own galaxy?"

"It was for a story," said Donny. "A book maybe. Or a movie."

Tor shrugged. "Never heard of a movie. Read a few books, but no idea what a movie is."

"It's like a book in a way," said Donny. "I mean it's storytelling, but it's told through moving pictures, with sound and music."

"Hmm." Tor thought a moment. "So you were telling a story then."

"Yes."

"About us," said Tor.

"Yes."

"You mind explaining the whole Princess deal to me?"

Donny looked over at Tor. "What about her?"

"I'm a simple guy, Donny" said Tor. "I like my girls simple, maybe a little dumb. Then along comes this princess."

Donny felt his ears burn. He knew where this was going.

"Just what was your plan for the princess and me, Donny?"

He couldn't say it. He was afraid that Tor would be furious, and Donny needed Tor to stay focused on their mission, not going off about... about the undeniable attraction Donny had built into Tor and Lita for one another.

"Well, I... I mean, you're both heroes."

"Heroes," said Tor. "Nothing more, just heroes."

"Yes," said Donny. "Heroes."

"Nothing romantic?"

Donny flinched, but tried to keep his cool. "I, uh, no. No, I hadn't really thought about it."

"Thought about what?" said Tor.

"You and Lita being 'You and Lita,'" said Donny.

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, yeah," said Donny. "I mean she's a beautiful princess and you're a..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You two are way mismatched."

"Exactly," said Tor. "I'd just as soon kill her as kiss her, the way she gets on my nerves."

The next words just slipped out: "Did you kiss her?"

"She kissed me!" Tor bellowed in a defensive tone. "Totally uncalled for, totally inappropriate. She kissed me."

"When?"

"Last night," said Tor. "And, uh, and back on Spikor."

"Way back on Spikor?" Donny was fascinated. It seemed a little odd that his characters had a life apart from him. What else had happened without his knowing?

"It's always the same," Tor lamented. "She says something smart, I yell back at her, we fight, and then— Boom"

"Boom?"

"Boom."

"You kiss?"

"She kisses," said Tor. "Not me. It's all her."

Donny bit his lip, trying to hide the smile.

"You had nothing to do with that," said Tor.

"No," said Donny. "Nothing."

"Princesses don't kiss guys like me," he said. "I'm not a pretty guy."

Donny sensed some of his own self-doubts in Tor, hearing him talk so openly about Lita. "You know, Tor," said Donny. "It's my world. And if I want to change the rules and say you do get the girl—"

"Then you did do it!"

"No, no!" said Donny. "I'm just saying, as far as I'm concerned, a guy like you can end up with anyone. That's the kind of world I would hope this world could be."

Tor seemed satisfied. "You know if I find out you're lying to me, I'll beat you to a pulp."

"I'm sure you will."

"Because the worst part is..." Tor paused. "I like that she kissed me."

The crusty old trader cracked a smile. Donny allowed a smile to cross his face, a smile that grew into a laugh. Tor laughed along, then his face grew cross again.

"And if you do anything – ANYTHING to interfere now—"

"Bloody pulp, I got it."

Two hours later, the airship, fully cloaked, touched down on the dusty surface of Lariat, just outside Pecos. Tor popped the door and leapt out of Arkangel, headed straight to Urno's Place. Donny was nervous; he could tell Tor was in the mood to hit something.

"Take a deep breath, Tor," he said. "We're not here to fight. We're looking for friends."

Tor took a hold of his blaster. "I can make friends." Storming up to the front door, he kicked the door in and blew a hole in the ceiling. The dialogue stopped. The eight-tentacled creature on the piano stopped, as did the dancing lobster girl. Urno looked up from his taps. Donny could hear "Tor" whispered by more than a few voices in the room.

"Miss me?" said Tor.

"Take it easy, Tor," said Urno. "We don't need any trouble here."

"I'm not here to make trouble," said Tor. "I come to make friends." He shot a glance at Donny, winking. "I need ships. Freighters. And I need a lot of 'em."

"What's it pay?" and Arcturian shouted.

"Name your price," said Tor. "It's not my money."

"Where's it going?"

"Right up Tarre Kahn's nose," said Tor.

"And the cargo?"

"Soldiers," said Tor. "Guerilla warriors. We're gonna take the Warlords down."

Mumbles rippled through the room, along with some laughter. A good number of folks went back to their business. Tor blew another hole in the ceiling to gather their attention.

"I said we're talking out Tarre Kahn," said Tor. "No more Warlords chomping on our tails. No more hiding in this dustbin of a planet."

"You're talking suicide," shouted one pilot.

"I'm talking about the biggest boom you lousy marauders will ever know," said Tor. "Think about when there's no government watching over us. No law, no regulations. No one hunting us down and extorting money from us. When Tarre Kahn's gone, there's no reason every man in this place can't make himself a king."

"Ha!" It wasn't the loudest voice in the room, but to Tor, it was the most distinct. He zoomed in right away on the source – back of the room, near the wall – facing away from Tor. He saw the dome of the helmet, and he made out the eye stalks. Tor barreled his way through the room and had his fingers around Zookie's throat before the traitorous pirate knew Tor had spotted him.

"I guess it's my lucky day," said Tor. "I was hoping to smash something."

"Tor, I can explain!" Zookie's eyes were huge under the fragile dome. Creatures great and small moved away. Word had clearly gotten around about Zookie's act of betrayal, and no one was going to begrudge Tor for paying back a traitor.

"Tarre Kahn had me in a real bad spot! I didn't wanna do it. But he was threatening my mother!"

"Your mother's dead," said Tor. "I helped you bury the old bag when the police on Ord Mantell gunned her down."

Donny remembered – sort of. The day he had detention for too many lunch tardies, he started to develop a character for her. She, too, was a smuggler, as tough as any male in the underworld. Thing is, Donny never finished developing story. Interesting how it came to a conclusion on its own. Interesting how even a trivial story could have a ripple effect throughout his fantasy world.

"I'll make it up to you!" shouted Zookie. "I have a ship. A big one. Bought it with—"

"The price you were paid for my head?" said Tor.

"And now, that money's yours. My ship is yours. Please, just don't kill me."

Donny looked deep into the alien's eyes. Betrayal was in his blood, there was no question. Zookie would betray Tor again for the right price. That made him perfect for the plan forming in the young writer's mind.

"Take the ship, Tor," said Donny. "And bring him. We'll need him to fly it."

Tor looked at Donny, thoroughly frustrated. "Are you nuts?"

"We need him," said Donny. "And his ship."

"It's not enough," said Tor. "There's a couple thousand Vish we gotta load up."

A Vishlunan sitting alone stood up. "Then my people have chosen to fight for once?"

"Matter of fact, they have," said Tor.

The Vish nodded. "I have a Class B Suleean freighter. I will take as many as I can."

Tor gave the Vish pilot a smile and a nod. "Anyone else?"

Two more human pilots also stood, offering their services – both freighter pilots. Both eager to cash in on a world without Tarre Kahn.

"Take a good look, fellas," said Tor to the rest of Urno's patrons. "If you're living in a better universe a week from now, these men better never have to pay for a drink in any joint, ever." He poked a finger in Zookie's chest. "Except this guy."

The pilots followed Tor out of Urno's. Each one was given directions to Vishluna, with a code for entry to the cave and landing instructions. Tor stuck around long enough to watch Zookie board his own ship and blast off. Then Tor and Donny climbed aboard Arkangel.

"Do you trust him?" said Tor.

"No," said Donny.

"But we need him," said Tor.

"I have a plan."

Arkangel arrived on Vishluna just behind the freighters. Each pilot had been escorted to private quarters and provided for, much the same way Donny and Tor had been on arrival. Donny excused himself and headed down to meet the Princess in her chambers.

"Do we have the ships?" she asked.

"A Vishlunan and two humans volunteered their ships," Donny replied. "So did Tor's former partner; the one who betrayed you."

Lita scowled. "You approved this?"

"I insisted on it."

"Then I can't wait to hear your explanation." Lita folded her arms, clearly not willing to trust Donny in this decision."

"We can't talk here," he said. "Follow me."

The princess rose and headed for the door. She closed it behind her and followed Donny's lead.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Lita said midway through their walk.

"Not at all," Donny replied.

"This may sound strange," said Lita. "But by any chance did you, or have you..." She paused a moment as two Vishlunan emissaries passed them. "Is there any reason you know of why I am having feelings for Tor?"

Donny stifled a laugh. "No. No reason. Why?"
**Chapter Sixteen:  
Betrayal**

One day in a fit of frustration against a neighbor kid, Donny sat down and wrote about the planet Steve. Steve was a planet of giants, a bunch of thugs who lived off the work of others. The Steves would travel via the caves of Arrax to smaller worlds, taking what they pleased without even a thank you. If anyone got in the way, they smashed them with their large, wooden clubs. No one messed with the Steves. No one dared.

Then one day, a small boy on the planet Ronny said "No," to a Steve. Now the little boy got a good beating for his trouble, but the Steve who beat Ronny was quickly over-taken and beaten by a large mob of Ronnys who, in a moment of clarity, realized there were ten times as many of them as they were Steves.

The Steve raced back to his home world, where the king of the Steves decided they would crush the Ronnys once and for all. Assembling his mightiest warriors in a giant planning room, full of cool gadgets and a 3-D hologram of the tiny planet Ronny, the king laid out in great detail the battle plan for conquest.

But the Steves didn't count on the Ronnys taking action first. Before the king could dismiss his strategy session, the Ronnys launched a thermonuclear weapon through the Steve cave, destroying the planet and the big bully Steves once and for all.

Staring at a 3-D model of the planet Arrax, and the Warlord fortress, in the war room of the Vishlunan temple, Donny couldn't help feel a little like the Steves of yesteryear. No, maybe the Warlords were not hovering outside, ready to wipe out their rebellion with one swift stroke. But it felt odd, unnerving to know that the battle plans being made would never, ever come to pass.

A brilliant tactician, Lita laid out the battle plans to the leaders of the Sulee, Vishluna, and Spikor forces. Using computer models, she had outlined a two part assault on Tarre Kahn's fortress; one she claimed would take down their perimeter defenses and allow for a swift and penetrating invasion.

Donny knew it would never work. So did Lita. Both hoped it was convincing enough to the double agent in the room, as well as those who actually wanted to see the assault succeed.

Tor was the first to put their plan to the test. His hand shot in the air. Lita paused patiently. "Yes, Mr. Hobbes?"

"No disrespect or anything," Tor began. "Are you certain the first wave will be able to take down the perimeter defenses?"

"The Spikor ships are small and nimble," said Lita, trying to exude a detachment to the trader. "They'll have no trouble evading enemy fire and getting to the force field generators at the northwest tower." She pointed on the model to a tower jutting high into the air, with a bridge cantilevered out into space holding up a round, armored dome. "If we can take out the bridge, it will cut off power to the generators and open the air space for a full air and ground assault."

"I'm sure the Spikors are capable," said Tor. "You just seem overly confident that you know where the shield generators are."

Lita kept cool. Donny nodded to her. "Our intel comes from Vishlunans who were held prisoner in the fortress. They have no reason to lie."

"I was a prisoner in the fortress too," said Tor. "Strange that no one gave me any tours or maps for the power generators. No, wait, that's because I was a prisoner!"

Lita shot Tor a death look. The High Counsel of Vishluna raised a hand to interject.

"My people have long been the house servants of the Warlords. They had access to realms you, as a prisoner, would not. Does that satisfy you?"

Tor growled. "Not entirely."

"It will have to suffice," said the High Counsel.

Ulee Blix was next to raise a question. "I understand your people captured one of the MUT devices when the Warlords left."

Lita shot a nervous look at Donny. "That is correct," she said.

A murmur rippled through the room. Ulee went on and asked, "Are we using it?"

Lita nodded. "We thought we could use it to get the Spikor advance team inside the force field. We only need one person to sneak inside the perimeter in order to unleash the attack."

Barshazzar grinned, as if smelling the blood of Warlords already. "Tarre Kahn won't know what hit him."

"So who's going in?" said Tor.

"Donny has volunteered," said Lita.

Tor looked at Donny, an almost fatherly look in his eyes. "What? No! The kid will never make it alone. I'll go with him."

"I was counting on you to say that," said Lita. Tor gurgled an unintelligible reply, rightfully feeling that he had been played.

"We have a day to prepare. By dusk tomorrow, the Spikors will be loaded in the device, ready to move. Tor, the Vishlunans have a small skiff that will get you and Donny to the drop off point."

Tor grunted, still too embarrassed to be civil.

"Once the force field is down, Arkangel will assume leadership of the air assault while the trader fleet deploys our ground forces. Lita used a pointer to highlight the drop points. "Pax will lead one team. I will lead the other."

The High Counsel spoke up. "Your majesty, please reconsider—"

"My fate will be that of my army," said Lita. "I am a warrior, not a politician. If I die..." She hesitated. "Perhaps it is what my people will need to inspire them and fight on."

"Martyr," Tor coughed under his breath.

"You have your assignments," said Lita. "Get to work, and good luck."

The conference broke up. Tor walked past Lita, giving her a look. Donny watched as the Princess glared back – then waited a moment before following him. Something was definitely up between the two. Donny would have enjoyed it – if he wasn't so nervous about the coming battle.

Barshazzar clapped him hard on the left shoulder. "You ready?" he said.

Donny nodded.

The Spikor king laughed. "In a matter of days, we'll be dining in the halls of Arrax," he said. "Proud warriors and conquerors."

"You mean liberators," said Zookie, who was listening in from two rows back.

"Of course," said Barshazzar. "That's what this is about, right? Freedom."

"Yeah," Donny replied. He slipped out the door, failing to notice the exchange of glances that followed between Barshazzar and Zookie.

There was no formal dinner planned that evening. Donny grabbed what he decided tasted like a peanut butter and banana sandwich, put together with stuff he found in the large kitchen off the temple dining hall. He stuck by Lita's side most of the night as she reviewed her troops and touched base with commanders. He didn't want to be alone, but he still felt all alone. The coming battle rested in large part on him – and he knew it would end badly.

As night fell, Donny found himself out on the make-shift training field where the Vishlunans had taken a crash course in becoming soldiers. He thought about Earth – the school, the town, the family he had left behind. He wondered if time was passing there as it passed here. Perhaps time on Earth was frozen while he was here. Perhaps it had accelerated. He might return and find it a hundred or a thousand years in the future. It was a frightening prospect.

"Hey, kid!" Donny turned to see Tor walking toward him. "I wanna talk to you."

Donny turned to face Tor. "What is it?"

Tor waited until they were face to face to speak again. "Look, I accept that all this is your doing. I accept that you wanted me in this fight, and that you have good reason. I even accept whatever it was you did to put me and Lita together."

Donny's ears burned. "Tor, I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me," said Tor. "I'm a bald, fat, smelly space pirate, and she's a lady with no equal on any planet linked by the caves. If that's not the work of a fiction writer, I don't know what is."

Donny nodded. "Then what does bother you?"

"Lita," said Tor. "I don't want her in this fight."

Donny shook his head. "I can't do anything about that."

"You can!" snapped Tor. "You put her into this mess, and if she gets killed—"

"Maybe she doesn't," said Donny.

"Do you know for sure?" Tor asked.

Donny had to be honest. "I never got this far. I was keeping my options open."

"So there's a chance she gets hurt," said Tor.

"There's a chance we all do," said Donny.

"See, that's no good for me," said Tor. "I mean do what you want with me. I'm expendable. But her..." Tor looked back toward the temple, then to Donny. "That woman believes in you so much, she'll die for you."

It was a strange thing to hear. Donny still didn't see himself as being that special, creator or no. "She will?"

"A lot of these nuts will," said Tor. "I don't know about the Spikors, but the Suleeans and Vishlunans are all in. I gotta tell ya, they're so crazed about it, this invasion just might work." He shook his head. "But you gotta spare her. Even if you don't spare me, let her live."

"I can't be everywhere to protect her," said Donny.

"Then keep her out of the fight!"

"She wouldn't be the woman you love," said Donny, "if she backed down now."

Tor sighed, defeated. "I had to try." Then he added, "You won't tell her about this, will you?"

"No, no."

"Or anyone else?"

"No, this stays between us."

"They'll think I'm a softie."

"Not you," said Donny. "Never."

Tor nodded. "Glad we're on the same page."

He clapped his arm around Donny and led him back to the temple.

Tor was quick to notice something was wrong when they got there. "Where are the Spikors?"

Donny looked around. "Did they move their equipment?"

Tor shrugged. "I don't know where else they'd put it." He let out a whistle. "Where did they go?"

Donny shrugged. "Beats me."

"Maybe Lita will know," said Tor. Donny grinned at him – until Tor threatened to knock the smile off his face. Donny wiped the smile away, and the boys turned towards the temple.

The halls were silent. Something was definitely wrong. Tor drew his blaster and took the lead as they crossed through dozens of vacant corridors, each one silent as a tomb.

"Where did everybody go?" said Donny.

"Hey, it's your story," said Tor. "You tell me."

They reached the hallway where they had slept the last few nights. The door to Lita's room was open part way. Tor picked up the pace and took up position beside the door. He then kicked the door in and aimed his blaster inside.

"Put the gun down, Tor."

Donny knew who it was before Tor spoke. "Zookie?"

"Evening, Tor," the slimy alien crowed. "I give you all the credit in the world for trying to put on noble appearances, but I'm afraid your days as a rebel leader are done."

"Let the girl go," said Tor.

Hearing this, Donny spun to face inside the room. Tor grunted his frustration, but Donny missed it – his eyes drawn to Lita, on her knees before Zookie in a red night gown. Zookie's blaster was aimed straight at her.

"You'll never get out of here with her," said Tor. "There's too much security."

"Ah yes," said Zookie. "That's why the temple is so silent." He held up a large canister, about two and a half feet long by a foot in diameter – an MUT transport device. "This is all that remains of your Vishluna/Sulee Minor alliance. An entire armada, trapped in a bottle. Tarre Kahn will reward me handsomely for this."

"And how did you manage to trap them all?" sneered Donny.

Tor heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Barshazzar.

"All due respect to our creator," said the pirate king, "But this world belongs to Tarre Kahn. And anyone who thinks otherwise must die."

Barshazzar aimed his blaster at Lita and fired, hitting her square in the chest. She let out a muffled cry, then fell forward, lifeless on the floor.

Tor took a swing at Barshazzar but never landed a blow. Two more of the pirates cut him off, taking the trader to the ground and beating him savagely.

His heart racing, Donny turned back to look at the princess. Zookie stood over her, shaking, rage in his eyes. He leapt over the body of the princess and aimed his gun at Barshazzar's face.

"You fool! There's a bounty on her head too!"

"She is too dangerous to be left alive," said Barshazzar. "Were it up to me, I'd see both of these dead on the floor as well. But I serve Tarre Kahn."

"Tarre Kahn wanted the princess alive!" screamed Zookie.

"Then he may punish me as he pleases," said the pirate king.

Zookie held his stance a few seconds longer before putting his blaster away. The Spikors lifted a beaten, bloodied Tor to his feet.

"Take them to my ship," said Barshazzar. The Spikors complied, leading Tor and Donny out of the room and down the hall. Donny swallowed hard. He was going back to face Tarre Kahn, and this time, he knew he would not survive.
**Chapter Seventeen:  
Prisoners Again**

He couldn't remember the name of the movie, but Donny remembered one scene very well. A group of bandits rolled into town and picked up a particularly dangerous individual. As the bandits drove out of town, he was seen sitting in the back of a truck surrounded by ten guys, each with a rifle aimed at his head.

Donny loved it. He loved the way the director used visuals, not dialogue to convey to the viewer, "This is one dangerous dude. Look how scared they are that ten guys have guns aimed at him."

When Donny created the character Tor Hobbes, he envisioned him as being that kind of dangerous. He now regretted it. Bumping along in a rickety air skiff, Donny sat against the side wall in the rear bay, shoulder to shoulder with Tor Hobbes. Ten very nervous Spikors with itchy trigger fingers stood in a semi-circle around them, guns aimed at their heads.

Ever the observant one, Tor turned to his maker. "This your idea?"

Donny sighed. He nodded.

Tor shrugged. "Kind of flattering. Infuriating, but flattering."

The door to the cockpit opened, and Zookie strolled through, looking down upon Tor.

"It's nothing personal," he said.

"It never is," said Tor. "Just business."

"There's a lot of money riding on your head," said Zookie. "And when I got to thinking about it, well, what option did I have? Sooner or later, you'd find me and pay me back. But if I could hand you over to Tarre Kahn—"

"No, no, it makes sense to me," said Tor.

"I'm glad you understand," said Zookie.

"And I hope you will, too," said Tor.

Zookie laughed nervously. "You hope I will what?"

"Understand that it's just business when I smash your helmet and squeeze your eyes until they pop."

Zookie laughed, a little more nervously.

"Might want to sit down!" It was Barshazzar, up in the cockpit. "We've been cleared to land."

Without further warning, the skiff tilted hard, causing Zookie to bounce off the wall. The Spikor guards laughed hard. Zookie did his best to pull himself up and stagger to the cockpit, preserving what dignity he could.

Tarre Kahn was waiting. Seated on his throne in the main audience chamber, he wore his battle armor as if anticipating some sort of trick. When he saw the bloody, beaten Tor led in chains and the boy he had come to fear bound beside him, he relaxed.

Barshazzar kneeled before the throne. "My Lord, I have come for the bounty on these two men."

"We have come for the bounty!" Zookie interjected. He stood defiant but nervous.

Tarre Kahn eyed the nervous creature. "You are the Tularian who betrayed the princess, are you not?"

Zookie's eye stalks twitched. "I am."

"You left without your reward last time." A wicked grin crossed Tarre Kahn's face.

"Your highness, I am not here to ask for back payment," said Zookie. "Just pay me for the quarry I have brought you today."

"We have brought, your majesty," said Barshazzar.

Tarre Kahn scowled. "This is all a little too convenient. How do I know this is no trap?" He motioned to the guards. "Shoot off his knees and see what he says."

The guards took aim. Zookie threw his hands up. "No please, your highness! I am an honest man looking for honest pay."

"You have betrayed a friend twice for financial gain," said Tarre Kahn. "How honest can you be?"

"Yes, my lord, I betrayed him," said Zookie. "But it was an act of loyalty toward you."

Tarre Kahn motioned for the guards to stand down before giving Zookie the order: "Examine the prisoners' minds for me. I want to know this is not a trap."

Zookie nodded. "Of course." He stepped in front of Tor and gazed hard into his eyes. Tor leaned in. Zookie leaned in. Tor leaned back and brought his hard head forward, slamming it into Zookie's helmet. The helmet rocked back and bashed him in the eyes. Tarre Kahn let out a hearty laugh.

Zookie kicked Tor in the gut with his knee. Tor spat on his helmet, making Tarre Kahn laugh harder. Zookie turned. "I sense no treachery, your lordship."

"And the other one?"

Zookie stood before Donny. He looked hard into the boy's eyes a long, long time, as if searching his memories. Eventually he stepped away. "Nothing, your lordship. I detect nothing."

"So you are the one everyone's talking about," said Tarre Kahn. "The maker. The creator."

Donny nodded.

"I suppose you think you made me," said Tarre Kahn.

"I did. And may I say," said Donny. "You are every bit as terrifying as I intended you to be."

Tarre Kahn's face grew serious. "No one created me. And no creator is going to seize what I have forged by blood."

"He has mystical powers," said Zookie. "I haven't really seen them myself. But I hear he can raise the dead."

"What else can he do?" said Tarre Kahn.

"The boy is very powerful," said Barshazzar. "And very dangerous."

"He has a strong mind, then." The assembly turned to see Dr. Cyn enter, his dual pupils eyeing the young boy greedily. "A powerful mind can be a tremendous weapon."

"I like weapons," said Tarre Kahn.

"Then you shall have it," said Dr. Cyn. "Take him to the laboratory. We will extract the brain and dispose of the body at once."

The guards grabbed Donny and began to lead him away. Donny heard Tarre Kahn pronounce sentence on Tor: death in the arena. Ordinarily, Tor would stand a fair chance. But Donny knew Tarre Kahn would not give him a sporting chance this time around.

Dr. Cyn and the guards led Donny onto an elevator lift. Barshazzar caught the lift before the doors closed.

"I hope you don't mind, doctor," said Barshazzar. "I owe this one payback, and once you've extracted your prize, I would very much like to drain him."

Dr. Cyn cracked an evil grin. "Very well. You may observe."

"Thank you." Barshazzar gave a quick glance in Donny's direction - and winked. Donny let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over; everything was going exactly to plan.

Barshazzar hated the plan when Donny revealed it after his return from Lariat. He didn't hide his feelings when Donny asked for feedback either.

"You want to just waltz into the castle and hand yourself over to Tarre Kahn? You must be a lunatic!"

Donny remained calm, seated next to Lita on a plush couch in Barshazzar's quarters. "You didn't hear me," Donny replied. "I want you to hand me over to Tarre Kahn. You will be our traitor."

The pirate king laughed. "And why would he trust me?"

"Because you are his loyal servant," said Donny. "And the trade you have enjoyed with the Warlords is a valuable asset to your people."

"You think he's going to buy that?" said Barshazzar. "He blockaded my planet for decades! We were prisoners on our own miserable world!"

"Even so, what business is it of yours if he rules Arrax?" said Donny. "You have no desire to live on a planet with that much sun. Besides, you know how powerful Tarre Kahn is. And you know without your forces, our rebellion is doomed. You will be the deciding vote, one way or the other. Why choose the unknown chaos of a liberated Arrax over the evil that is known?"

Barshazzar nodded, taking it all in. "You've thought this through."

"I've given a lot of thought to how you all would bring down Warlord empire."

"Then we will defeat them," said Lita.

Donny shrugged. "I hope so. Me being here, I don't have the control I had on Earth. But it should still work."

"Will Tor's partner take the bait?" said Barshazzar.

"He will," said Donny. "It's in his nature."

Lita frowned. "I don't understand you; creating treacherous people. And barbarians like Tarre Kahn. Why would you even think to create them?"

Donny shrugged. "Without conflict, there's no story. Without a villain, there are no heroes. The greater the villain, the greater the hero."

Barshazzar smiled. "There is a touch of evil in your heart."

"There is a touch of evil in everybody where I come from," said Donny. "The difference is whether you choose to give in to that evil, or fight it."

"I will fight for you," said Barshazzar. "Tomorrow, I will approach Zookie and tell him what you told me about the price on yours and Tor's heads."

"If he doesn't believe you, you may need to prove your treachery," said Lita.

"How shall I do that?" said Barshazzar.

Lita stood and walked to the closet, where a set of body armor hung. "You will kill me; right in front of him."

Barshazzar smiled. "You are as cunning as you are beautiful."

"Have your men prepared for transport as soon as Zookie is on board," said Donny. "Then let him take the lead. We need everyone in place before Zookie sets the wheels in motion."

"What about Tor?" said Lita. "If he's going in with you, he should know."

"Zookie can sense betrayal," said Donny. "He'll read Tor like a book and know it's a trap."

"He's going to be furious," said Barshazzar, who found the whole idea amusing.

"I'll deal with that," said Donny. Thanks to the monks, he did not expect to survive the assault. Dealing with Tor would be a pleasant surprise at the end if he lived.

"You're not afraid the Tularian will read you?" said Barshazzar.

"He can't read me unless I want him to read me," said Donny. "I made him, remember?"

The MUT containing the entire Spikor fighting force hung inconspicuously in a satchel slung over Barshazzar's shoulder. The pirate made no move, no gesture to indicate anything other than his bloodthirsty desire to see Donny gutted on the operating table. If Donny didn't know better, he might have thought the pirate had betrayed him indeed.

Dr. Cyn tied off the last of the straps that would hold Donny down on the operating table. He moved along side the table and smiled.

"Comfortable?"

"Not really."

"Then do something about it," said the doctor, tauntingly.

"Not my place," said Donny.

"Oh, no?" The mad scientist cackled. "Ironic, isn't it? You create a fantastic universe to rule over, only to have its greatest creation, its most superior being, destroy you."

"You mean Tarre Kahn?" Donny cracked a grin.

Dr. Cyn soured. "I mean me. You think that behemoth would be anything without me?"

"Of course not," said Donny. "No more than you would be anything without him."

"I don't need Tarre Kahn," said Dr. Cyn.

"You needed an iron fist to hold your weapons," said Donny. "You would never have been anything on your own!"

"Silence!" said Dr. Cyn. "You won't bait me like this. You think I am afraid of you?"

"Why wouldn't you be?" said Donny. "I could stop your heart with a thought if I wanted."

"Then why don't you?"

"That's not why I'm here."

"And why are you here?" shouted the doctor.

"I believe the word," said Barshazzar, "Is diversion."

Dr. Cyn turned toward the pirate. He recognized his own handiwork immediately – and shuddered as Barshazzar opened the MUT device.

The guards in the room drew guns. Barshazzar shot them dead with his own pistols as the full fury of the Spikor army emerged, bursting into the lab and out into the castle, a mob of violent fury bringing shock and destruction to anyone in its path.

Dr. Cyn crawled away from the lab table, cowering in the corner, as Barshazzar released Donny from his chains. The two walked over to the frightened evil genius.

"You wanna show him what you got?" said Barshazzar.

Donny clapped his hand on Barshazzar's back. "You are what I've got."

The boy raced off to find Tor. Barshazzar drew out a jagged blade. "This is going to hurt a little, Doctor."
**Chapter Eighteen:  
War**

Kai Hoek appeared on the video screen as sirens blared in Tarre Kahn's castle. The mighty emperor stepped in front of the command console located in his private chambers.

"What is it?"

"We're under attack, my lord!"

"Impossible!" snorted Tarre Kahn, checking the sensors. "Our force field is still active."

"It's a ground assault," said Kai. "The Spikors are everywhere!"

"How the devil did that happen?"

"We don't know," said Kai." They seem to be moving from the inside out!"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it, sir," said Kai. "It looks like they just appeared inside the fortress!"

Tarre Kahn slammed his fist on the console. "Barshazzar! Hunt them down, slaughter them! Do not let them get to the generators!"

"I'm taking a squad to the tower personally, my lord," said Kai Hoek. "They won't get past us."

Tarre Kahn grabbed his battle axe. Stepping outside his chamber door, all he had to do was listen for the sounds of battle. Two turns down the winding halls of the castle and he met the front line. He cut down a vicious Spikor assault and headed toward the generator tower.

Tor was in chains, about to be placed in the same cell he had visited not so long ago, when the battle spilled into the dungeon. As the Spikor assault made its way into the dungeon, the guards left their charge to defend their territory – a fatal mistake, as they left the door to the cell open. The enraged prisoners caught the guards from behind and beat them down. Tor wrapped his chains around one guard's neck and snuffed the life out of him.

Melchior led the Spikor raid inside the dungeon. He found Tor and cut his chains loose.

"Not that I'm disappointed to see you, but how did you fellas get here?" asked Tor.

"Ask your little magic buddy," said Melchior.

"I should have known," Tor grumbled. He followed the Spikors out of the dungeon, where Donny and Barshazzar were waiting. Barshazzar handed him a blaster.

"Wanna fight a war with us?" he said.

Tor looked at Donny. "Something you wanna tell me, kid?"

"You'd only want to hit me," said Donny.

"No, no, I'll take it out the Warlords. Now tell me, so I can really get my rage out."

Donny explained their ruse – and why Tor was never included in on it – as they climbed the steps toward the northwest tower. Tor was more relieved to know that Lita was alive than he was angry at being left in the dark. "Not that I like her or anything," he reminded them. "But we'll need her once this is all over."

"We'll need her before it's over," said Barshazzar. "Who do you think is bringing the rest of the troops?"

Tor shot a look at Donny. "Again, I should have seen it coming."

"My king!" one of the lead Spikors shouted. "We've reached the thirteenth level."

"Head east," Donny ordered. The Spikors kicked in the door leading to the main hall, blasting every living thing in sight.

"How do you know the way..." Tor trailed off, rolling his eyes. "Of course, I forgot."

"Let's just hope we got enough of a jump to beat them to the generators," said Donny.

As they ran down the hall, Tor stopped, his eyes down another long hall.

"Tor! Don't stop now!" Donny shouted.

But Tor had his mind elsewhere. He raised a blaster and aimed. "Zookie, over here!"

Donny caught sight of Tor's former partner at the end of the hall. He put his hands up. Tor blasted his helmet, fragments of glass shattering into his soft flesh. The trader gasped in the Arraxian air and fell to his knees.

Tor turned back to follow the Spikors, pulling Donny with him. "Come on! Let's shut down your lousy force field so we can end this."

The generators were stored at the end of a long hallway that extended out from the top of the tower. The hall was narrow, and the Warlords could easily defend it with a small rifle team stationed at the end of the hall. Kai Hoek already had a team in place, himself at the lead, before the Spikors reached their destination. He activated a com on his wrist.

"My lord, we are ready."

"Keep them pinned down, I will take them from below," said Tarre Kahn. "Soon as we end this, I want that armada outside blown out of the sky."

Hoek killed the line and took aim, hearing the approach of pirates down the long tunnel. Armed with long-range lasers, the Warlords took aim and waited.

Donny saw the first men go down as soon as they hit the hall. "Get down!" he shouted. Two more men fell before the attack squad could take cover.

"Got a plan B?" said Tor, huddled close to Donny.

"Sorry. I kinda made this generator hard to get to."

"But you have a work around, right?" said Tor. "You know, so all us good guys don't have to die trying to shut it down?"

"I never got around to it!" said Donny.

Tor growled. "Well that's just great."

With a loud screech of metal, the floor in front of Barshazzar opened up and swallowed one of his men. The opening closed as quickly as it opened. Donny sat up.

"The traps!" shouted Donny. "I forgot the traps!"

"What traps?" said Barshazzar.

"The floor is rigged to drop us below so they can take us out, one by one."

Tor was livid. "You put the generators in the most remote spot you can, guarded from the front and below, and you never bothered to find a way to get past them? Whose side are you on?"

Another grate opened and two more men fell through, vanishing to their doom. A sinking feeling crept into Donny's stomach.

"It's Tarre Kahn," he said.

"How do you know?" Barshazzar answered.

"Because it's usually him," said Donny. "He put the traps in for his own amusement. And he's got his battle axe."

Barshazzar eyed his weapon. "Do we go after him?"

"You don't," said Donny. "I do."

"What?" Tor reached out to Donny, but Donny was out of grasp before he could react. He stood on one of the tiles and stomped his feet. He wasn't disappointed; the grate opened, and he fell.

He hit the floor hard, jamming his ankles and stumbling to his knees. At first, he thought he was alone in the shadows. Then he saw two boots step forward.

Tarre Kahn was in mid-swing; he froze.

"You."

"Yeah, it's me."

There was no more brutal, barbaric soul in the galaxy than Tarre Kahn. Donny had affirmed that time and time again in his writings. So it was a complete surprise when Warlord lowered his battle axe to his side.

Donny chided him. "What are you waiting for? Kill me!"

The evil dictator began to laugh. "You think I am a fool, boy? I know what you're trying to do!"

Donny put up his fists. "I'll destroy you if you don't!"

"And what happens if I kill you?" said Tarre Kahn. "You become more powerful than you already are? No. I'll lock you in the darkest dungeon forever. You'll never see the light of day on your little planet—"

Tarre Kahn was too busy with his speech to notice Donny backing down the hall. He opened the door and stepped outside, catching the eye of several Warlords with guns.

"Hey, guys!" he said. "I'm going to kill the emperor!"

Donny made a gun with his hand and aimed it at Tarre Kahn. Tarre Kahn tried to shout a cease fire order, but it was too late. Donny was dead, shot by the Warlord sharpshooters before their leader could utter a word.
**Chapter Nineteen:  
A Room**

There was a day after his favorite aunt's funeral that Donny contemplated what would happen when the people of Arrax died. Did the world he created offer an after-life? And if so, where did that after-life take place? Was there a heaven? Or a hell? And who's in charge of things in the after-life? Donny hadn't really thought of himself as creator-being in this universe, so the idea of having to govern some "happy hunting ground" in space never occurred to him.

Though nothing formal was ever committed to paper, Donny did instill some belief systems in his people. The Suleeans believed in a good God, as Donny had been taught to believe in Sunday School. He hadn't worked out the details, but some sort of sacrifice for atonement of sin was part of the plan. Little did he ever suspect he, their creator, would literally give his life for them one day.

It wasn't all biblical, of course. The Spikors held a view of the afterlife similar to the Vikings, a palace like Valhalla where warriors who died in battle would feast forever at the table with the gods of war – a scene very reminiscent of Thanksgiving at his Uncle Leo's house.

Donny never bothered to actually create a Heaven or Hell because he always just saw his people as fictional – not real. What did it matter where they went? They were only figments of his imagination.

Or so he thought.

The guns that blasted him to – to where ever he was - certainly looked real, as real as everything else he had seen in his time on Arrax and beyond. He felt the impact of a dozen hits shake his body. Then, he saw light – bright, white light take over his field of vision. His head felt fuzzy, cloudy, as his eyes focused on what appeared to be a white wall connected to a white ceiling. He was in a room, a sterile room with that sterile smell you get sometimes in hospitals.

At first he thought he had been saved from death, brought back to life in a hospital in his world. Then a truly terrifying thought occurred to him: maybe the after-life was just a big waiting room full of people waiting with no place to go because he never created one.

He looked to his left. He saw a curtain hanging from the ceiling. In front of it was a vital signs monitor. Tubes and wires descended from the monitor to his arm and nose.

He looked ahead of him again. There was a TV. How did he not notice that before?

To his left, a man slept in a chair, one of those big plastic chairs like you find in a hospital. Donny had concluded that he was, in fact, in a hospital. Exactly where the hospital was became clear when he got a look at the man's face: it was his father.

"Whoa." He was on Earth. In a hospital. And he was the patient. But what was he doing in here?

He lifted his arms. There were no bullet wounds, no bandages. Nothing. No sign of the deadly gunfire that took him down outside the generator tower.

Maybe it was a dream, a crazy, mixed up dream brought on by... well, he didn't know what. He wasn't even sure why he was in the hospital at all. Was it possible something have happened on Earth – in the real world – to bring on a full-blown dream about the Cave World?

He heard footsteps. His head turned back toward the door. A young girl stood in the doorway, a bag of McDonald's food in one hand and a drink in the other. Her mouth was open in astonishment. Donny's mouth dropped to mimic hers when he saw who it was.

"Donny?" said Bridget.

"Bridget? What are you doing here?"

"I've been here every day," she said. "Waiting for you to wake up." She swallowed hard, not sure what to say next. Donny loved the nervous look in her eyes. "How's your head?"

Donny reached up instinctively and discovered the bandages wrapped tight around his head. "I, uh, I don't feel anything," he said. "I don't remember getting shot there either."

"Shot?" she said. "Donny, don't you remember what happened?"

Donny started to tell her what he remembered, but he stopped. Maybe this was some sort of Wizard of Oz thing. Best not to look like a fool, not in front of Bridget. "Maybe we should start with me asking you what happened."

"You don't remember?" Donny shook his head. "There was an earthquake. The school, everything shook. We were in the library, and—You really don't remember?"

Donny shook his head; this was getting good.

"You saved me," she said. "You were in one of the back rooms. You came out, you saw me trapped under a bookshelf. You helped me get out."

Donny felt a swell of pride well up in his chest. "I did?"

She nodded. Bridget set her food down and walked to a side table, covered in flowers and balloons. "Here. I kept everything together for you. You said it was important."

She placed a large stack of papers on his chest. It was Cave World – everything he had written up until Tor crashed into his life so many days ago. Or was it?

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"Three days," she said. "You really don't remember?"

"No," he said again.

"They said you might not," said Bridget. "You got hit in the head as we were leaving. You carried me outside, then collapsed. You scared me bad."

"I'm sorry," he said instinctively.

She shook her head. "Don't be. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too," he said. He picked up the sheets of paper, finding the new map with Earth right on top. The tragic events that put him in the hospital were gone, but the adventures on that foreign planet were still fresh in his mind.

There was something he had to do.

"How does it end?" said Bridget.

Donny looked at her, then at his papers. "You read this?"

She nodded. "I saw you had characters and an outline. But you didn't have an ending."

"No," he said. "I need to do that."

She smiled at him. "Can I read it when you're done?"

He nodded, feeling every bit the great hero. "Absolutely."
**Chapter Twenty:  
The Quake**

"I could kill him!" shouted Tor as he saw the floor close up on top of Donny.

Barshazzar looked at the trader, confused. "I think Tarre Kahn's gonna do that before you can."

"He was our only chance!" shouted Tor. "Without that kid, we are dead!"

"He made us to be heroes, right?" said Barshazzar, preparing his gun. "Then let's be heroes."

Tor readied his gun. "Shall we sacrifice ourselves for the greater good?"

"If that be the case," said Barshazzar. "I will dine with you tonight in the halls of Zogsgaard!"

Barshazzar rose to his feet – then fell to his knees as the entire fortress began to shake.

"What's happening?" Lita called over the radio. She watched through the front window of Arkangel as the Warlord fortress began to pitch and tremble.

"Looks like the whole planet's shaking!" said Ulee, himself in the cockpit of a large freighter. The last time he had brought a freighter full of Vishlunans to Tarre Kahn's fortress, they were slaves. Now he was a traitor, bringing invaders to crush the people who had raised him.

"Look! The northwest tower!" shouted Ulee. Lita looked out at the tower, where the bridge supporting the armored dome – the force field generators - began to crack. With a loud crack that rippled through the desert air, the bridge broke away and fell, smashing into the fortress below.

"Force field is off!" Pax shouted over the radio.

Lita gave the order, adrenaline surging through her body like electricity. "Attack! Attack!"

Dozens of light fighters swarmed the fortress, dropping laser bolts and missiles on the sitting target. Arkangel led the aerial assault, blasting a giant hole in the front of the fortress.

Ulee brought his cruiser in hard and fast, skidding to a halt on the sand a few hundred yards from the smoking hole in the fortress. He blew the doors off the freighter, releasing hundreds of revenge-minded Vishlunans on the Warlords, ill-prepared and shell-shocked. The host force was overwhelmed quickly as the invasion began in earnest.

Lita's eyes were still glued to the crumbling tower, where she could see two shady looking characters standing on the edge. "Swing back around the tower," she said. "I need to get up there."

Barshazzar and Tor stood gaping at the open space before them. The bridge had completely broken off. The room with the shield generators, where Kai Hoek had made his final stand, was below them, smoldering in the wreckage it had caused. They could see the Suleeans and Vishlunans beginning their assault from the air and ground. Tor glanced over the edge, surveying the damage from the earthquake.

"So," said Barshazzar. "I guess we didn't need the kid, huh?"

Tor shook his head. "No. This was all his doing. I can feel it."

Barshazzar laughed. "You never struck me as a spiritual man."

"When the evidence is in front of you—"

Tor stopped, stunned silent as Barshazzar fell forward into his arms. It took Tor a few seconds to realize what had happened. Only a few feet away stood Tarre Kahn, both hands on his mighty battle axe, the weapon he had just used to end the life of the vampire pirate king.

Tor lowered his former rival's body to the bridge, where many of his Spikor comrades lay dead or dying. Tor stood back up and looked at the menacing Tarre Kahn.

"Well this isn't fair," said Tor. "Here I am at a knife fight, and all I have is this blaster."

He lifted the blaster to shoot; Tarre Kahn severed the barrel off the gun before he could get a shot off.

"Now this is really not fair."

The Warlord shouted and swung the axe at Tor's head. Tor ducked and rolled away as the axe smashed into the wall, cutting the metal cleanly in a shower of sparks. Tarre Kahn came around for another blow. Tor grabbed a rifle by the barrel and swung it at Tarre Kahn's feet, knocking him to the ground.

Tor leapt up and grabbed a sword from one of the fallen pirates. He jumped on the flat blade of the axe, preventing Tarre Kahn from recovering his weapon of choice. The Warlord hissed, drew a sword from one of the other Spikors, and stood to face Tor.

"Give it up, trader," said Tarre Kahn. "You're no match for me. Not with a blade."

"You're gonna kill me one way or the other," said Tor. "Might as well go down swinging."

The Warlord attacked, using his height and weight to bear down on Tor. He quickly backed Tor into a wall, but Tor responded by lowering his shoulders and charging, slamming Tarre Kahn into the opposite wall. He caught hold of the Warlord's armored breast plate and yanked it free before being pushed away. Tarre Kahn lunged for Tor's heart. Tor blocked the blow with his sword – which split cleanly in two.

Tarre Kahn laughed as Tor frantically scanned the area for another weapon. There were plenty here on the battlefield, but they were all just out of reach.

The emperor brought his weapon back up for a death blow. "It doesn't look like this will be your day either."

Shots rang out – dozens of them, fast and furious. Tarre Kahn shook as laser bolts ripped into his body. The mighty warlord crumpled to his knees. Tor gave him a hard kick and sent him flailing out into the void.

He turned – and scowled.

"Just when I had him, you had to show up and take my moment!"

Lita stepped toward Tor, her smoking gun leveled at his chest. "That's a fine way to thank me for saving your life!"

"I'm telling you, I had him!" said Tor, stepping toward her.

"He was gonna split you in two!"

"He was playing right into my hands!"

They were nose to nose.

"Shut up and kiss—"

Tor grabbed her and kissed her.

The battle raged for several hours, and it seemed as if Tarre Kahn's forces would fight to the last man. But after cornering the bulk of the fighting force in the throne room, the few remaining officers called for a ceasefire. Lita met them to deliver terms of surrender, which were quickly accepted. As suddenly as it had begun, the war was over.

The Warlords were granted safe travel to an uninhabited world, and Pax saw to their quick removal from the grounds. Free of their oppressors, Suleeans, Vishlunans, and Spikors celebrated triumphantly long into the night. They had lost many comrades in the battle, but their relief at the end of such a long conflict led them to post-pone the mourning, if only for a night.

When Tor was asked about Barshazzar, he told his people that their king had died heroically in battle. The Spikor toasted and celebrated their fallen lord with drink and song. But when asked about Donny, Tor was much more vague.

"I don't know where he went," he said to Lita, somewhat honestly. "But that quake, that was him."

Lita punched his arm playfully. "So you do believe."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" said Tor. "Does it matter?"

She shrugged. "Whether you believe or not, he's real. He made us. And apparently, he won the victory for us."

Tor nodded. "Careful. Don't want to give him a big head."

Lita smiled. She wrapped her arms around Tor and kissed him full on the lips. She opened her eyes and gazed into his.

"I gotta say it," he said, "If the quake hadn't made a believer of me, you would have."

"And why is that?" she said softly.

"Because only a crazy kid with a warped imagination could make a girl like you kiss a big lug like me."
**Epilogue:  
In the Shadows**

"Tarre Kahn has fallen."

The ancient one nodded, his face shrouded by the hood that masked everyone in this ancient, remote temple. The others watched nervously as the ancient one rose from his stone slab, adjusting his dark robe as he stood.

"How?" said the ancient one.

The two messengers' hoods tilted towards one another. The one who spoke turned back to the ancient one.

"It was the Creator," he spoke, his voice trembling.

Murmurs rippled through the room as one hood turned to another. "Creator?" "There's no such thing." "Impossible!" "Could it really be?"

"The Creator?" said the ancient one, bringing the murmurs to an end. "Are you certain?"

"Our spies witnessed his power first hand," said the first speaker. "The spoke of incredible things."

"Interesting," said the ancient one. He stood and walked across the black marble floor towards the tall vertical window looking out on the Great Purple Nebula. The ancient one's eyes danced with the color purple as he gazed out on the stars swirling in the black sky.

"The princess of Sulee Minor is now ruler of Arrax," said the hooded one standing beside the first speaker.

"And the Creator," said the ancient one. "He remains?"

"He seems to have been killed in battle," said the first.

"No. He is not dead," said the ancient one. "He has only returned to his world."

"The princess's coalition is passionate, but weak," said the first. "We could crush them."

"Any one of the armies now under our rule would wipe them out in a day!" added the second.

"Not if the Creator is watching," said the ancient one. "He won't allow it."

"Then what do we do?" said the first.

"We make sure the Creator can't see us," said the ancient one. "Not until we are ready."

"And what then?" asked the second.

The ancient one turned. His right arm lifted, and a tiny, white dove appeared out of nowhere in his twisted, rotted hand. Every hood in the room tilted upward as the bird stretched its wings and flew upward into the dome.

No one saw the blades emerge from the ancient one's left sleeve. No one saw them fly across the room and strike the messengers dead in the chest. No one had any idea what happened until they saw the bodies hit the floor.

"By then," said the ancient one. "It will be too late."
**About the Author**

John Cosper is the founder of Righteous Insanity, a drama and film ministry providing resources to churches and ministries around the world. He is an award-winning script writer and director and an avid fan of science fiction and comic books. Other works include Space Kat, Space Monster, Martian Queen, and Robot/Girlfriend. He lives in Southern Indiana with his wife and two children.

For more about John Cosper, visit his website: www.johncosper.com
