I was on a powerful machine, with a powerful driver! I felt magnificent, like I owned everything – as if the planet and everyone on it existed only to do my bidding.
I allowed myself a brief, “Yippee!”
But it was a bit early to celebrate. Not everybody on this world was at my service – that row of cops up ahead, for example. A dozen of them on hover scooters were blocking our way.
Our machines jerked to a halt, and I nearly tumbled into the grass.
“Our plans are discovered,” the Basitch squad leader said.
“Those traitors!” the Captain growled.
The enemy scooters advanced on us, slowly and cautiously, like a wolf pack sniffing out the prey. Those on the outside started curving inwards so as to surround us.
The Captain ran over to one of our Basitch cops and snatched his weapon. Sidekick did the same. They both started moving away from the scooters.
“What are you doing?” I said.
They paused and looked back toward me.
“We must die fighting,” the Captain said.
“It would be too shameful if we were captured again,” Sidekick added. “This way, future generations will laud our bravery.”
“Hold on!” I said. “This isn’t the Little Big Horn.”
The Captain looked puzzled, and a little amused.
“I’m not sure that I understand your reference,” he said. “In any case, I regret that I was not able to fulfill my pledge.”
“W-well fine,” I said. “What about me?”
“The future will be hard for you, I’m afraid,” the Captain said. “If you prefer to die with us now, we would consider it a great honor. You would be a heroine in our legends.”
“Nobody’s going to die here!” Quentin shouted.
“If Prince Quentin has an alternative, I’m all ears,” the Captain said.
“I, uh ...” Quentin said.
The enemy scooters were getting much closer now. I turned around frantically, again and again, like a top starting to go crazy. Terror and danger faced me in every direction –
Also a tiny flicker of hope.
“There.” I pointed to the arches. “We have to get inside.”
“For what purpose?” the Captain said.
“Just do it, okay?” I said.
The Captain gave a slight bow. “Very well, Lady Amanda.”
He jumped back on our scooter and yelled some commands to the others. We began hurtling back toward the arches. The enemy had almost closed their ring around us now, and we headed straight for the narrowing gap between the two lead scooters.
“Here comes the rough stuff,” Quentin said.
Just as the enemy was about to cut us off, the Captain and sidekick fired their blasters into the ground. Geysers of dirt and grass chunks erupted on either side of us. Enemy Basitch cops tumbled off their scooters.
We zoomed through the gaping hole in the enemy circle. Gun blasts shot all around us – burning the air overhead, tearing up the ground. It smelled like a million 4th of July sparklers going off at once.
One of our scooters was hit!
Sidekick and his driver sprawled in the grass by their wrecked machine. We pulled alongside. Sidekick sat up, dazed.
“Get on!” I shouted.
The Captain pulled him aboard. I was pressed in the middle. The stunned Basitch cop rolled onto another scooter.
We took off again. The Captain and Sidekick kept up a constant barrage of gun blasts on either side of me, nearly busting my eardrums. But the enemy had stopped firing back.
I looked out from our jam of bodies to see the enemy Basitch standing beside their scooters, guns lowered. I craned my head around the Captain, the base of an arch was coming toward us – dark and menacing like it had thrust up from the nether regions. The enemy must have ceased fire to avoid hitting it.
We tumbled off our machines. The Basitch leader placed his hand on the smooth, bluish black arch surface and barked a command. A hidden door slid open and we all fled inside.
***
We were in a blank, dim area. I couldn’t tell about its size because space was all distorted and curvy.
“It’s like inside the Tire Giant,” Quentin whispered.
I peered into the distance, but I couldn’t tell if I was seeing a wall or an opening into infinity.
“We have secured entry,” the Captain said. “Now what?”
“The transmitter,” I said.
“But an escape to Earth America is quite impossible, given the available time,” the Captain said.
As if to back up his remark, shouting and banging noise came from outside. Our cops took back their weapons and posted themselves at the door.
“No, no,” I said, “just back to Neutral Isle, or to our side of Core City.”
The Captain look startled. “That seems a very hazardous endeavor. So much power, so little distance.”
“Do you have a better idea?” I said.
The threatening racket from outside increased – sometimes sharp and close by, sometimes muffled as if coming from a great distance.
“Very well, Lady Amanda,” the Captain said.
He turned to our Basitch cops. “Squad leader, please accompany us. You others, hold off the enemy as long as possible.”
The Basitch thumped their chests in reply.
“You have all performed magnificently,” the Captain said. “Should you be forced to surrender, feel assured that you have done everything that honor requires.”
Let’s get moving! I thought frantically.
“And if this day brings us victory,” the Captain continued, “all of you will accompany me into the highest ranks of the New Order. I salute you!”
He shot out his fist. “Hail!”
The Basitch saluted back. “Hail!”
Man, this was something out of a WW2 newsreel. Well, I guess the flunkies had to be bucked up somehow.
The captain toward me.
“Shall we go, Lady Amanda?” he said.
“Yes!”
Part Four: Struggle to Return
32: Transmission Boogie
The Captain took my hand. Suddenly, we were going up – like on an escalator, but with nothing under our feet!
Everything was blank and confusing, I couldn’t get any bearings. Without the Captain holding onto me, I would have simply drifted away to who knows where. I felt tremendous power all around me, and my hair went into frizz alert.
Sidekick and Quentin drifted along beside us. Sidekick kept a firm arm around Quentin’s waist. The grim Basitch squad leader floated along ahead of us.
“This sure beats the theme park rides back home,” Quentin said.
His voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once. I tried to answer, but all that came out was a long, “Ohhh.”
The Captain spoke directly into my translator piece. His voice was strong and solid. “Do not be afraid, Lady Amanda, I am with you.”
This made me feel a lot better. I knew I could rely on the Captain – until he decided to take off on his next suicide venture, that is. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.
Then, abruptly, we were in a room with several other Kintz. I saw panels with flashing lights – screens, buttons. Things seemed to be more in focus, or maybe I was just getting used to the bizarre atmosphere a little.
Everybody was standing and shouting. The Basitch cop thrust his gun in their faces, and all the chatter stopped.
“Who is in charge here?” the Captain demanded.
A Kintz with silver arches stitched to his jumpsuit stepped forward.
“I am chief technician,” he said.
He and the Captain spoke in quick, furious voices. My translator couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the chief technician didn’t seem to be very cooperative. Then the Captain grabbed him and wrenched his arm into a hammer lock.
“Ahhhh!” the Chief Technician shouted in the universal language of pain.
This seemed to do the trick. After a few shouted orders, the Captain pushed the guy toward a control panel.
“Please forgive the unpleasantness, Lady Amanda,” the Captain said. “The chief technician required some convincing.”
“I got that impression,” I said.
“He assures me that he can transmit us to the control tower in eastern Core City,” the Captain said.
“Good!”
“Unfortunately, the trip is apt to be quite violent – perhaps fatal.”
I gulped. “Well, it’s kind of late to worry about that now.”
I turned toward Quentin. “Should we try it?”
“Yeah,” Quentin said without hesitation.
The Captain suddenly froze, as did every other Kintz. Then they all turned their heads toward the door.
“The enemy has gained entry,” the Captain said. “We can expect them up here soon.”
The chief technician had paused in his work, but he got going again fast when the squad leader shoved the gun barrel against his back.
“We must stand over there,” the Captain said.
He led us to a little stage beside the chief technician’s control panel. The moment I stepped onto it, I felt powerful vibrations shaking me from my toes to the ends of my electrified hair. The room started to fade, as if somebody had half erased it.
A dozen Basitch cops appeared! They pushed their way toward us –
Then the control room vanished. I was in nowhere land, jerking and gyrating in a psychotic boogie-woogie dance. My head snapped back painfully, my arms and legs flailed out of control. I groped for the Captain, but couldn’t find him. My brain seemed about to rip out of my head.
CRASH!
We were in a different control room now – broken furniture, chaos, a new group of astonished Kintz jabbering and running around.
We’d made it!
I lay on my back on top of a smashed table. Quentin, the Captain, and Sidekick sprawled nearby in contorted heaps.
“Is everyone all right?” I managed to say.
“Sure,” Quentin groaned. “It only hurts when I breathe.”
He wobbled to his feet, so did the others. They all seemed okay! I tried to get up, but a jolt of incredible agony shot up my left leg.
“Ahhh!”
“Lady Amanda!” the Captain cried.
He rushed to my side, along with Quentin, Sidekick, and bunch of Kintz technicians.
“Her leg’s broken,” Quentin said.
I lifted my head. My leg was all twisted, and my foot pointed off in a crazy direction. Another bolt of pain, and I almost blacked out.
The Captain thrust a little bottle under my nose. “Inhale.”
I breathed in the acrid fumes. Instantly, I felt a burst of strength, and the agony in my leg dropped to a bearable level.
“Gimme more,” I said.
“I dare not,” the Captain said, “it might prove fatal to your human system.”
Quentin worked fast, making a splint for my leg out of broken furniture pieces.
“We have to get her to the arena clinic,” he said. “They’ve got specialists in human medicine.”
A half dozen Kintz technicians stood around, gaping. The Captain looked up at them.
“We require transportation to Neutral Isle,” he said. “Immediately!”
The technicians scurried off. The Captain rose and examined the little drug bottle in his hand. He flung it against the wall, smashing it.
“Lady Amanda has shamed us,” he said. “We will prove ourselves worthy without this concoction.”
Sidekick pulled his bottle out of his sleeve and hurled it against the wall, too.
“I need binding,” Quentin said.
The Captain took off his cloak and tore it into strips. Quentin used them to secure the splint.
“Oh man,” Quentin said. “I always wanted to visit the tower, but not like this.”
33: At the Clinic
He had scarcely completed his splint work when a little hover trailer arrived. They loaded me on it and pushed me into an elevator for a gut dropping ride down.
Two empty scooters stood outside the tower. Another one contained a pair of Kintz good guy policemen. I was so glad to see them. They looked powerful and efficient, but without the savage look of the Basitch cops.
The Captain attached my trailer to one of the scooters and took off fast. Sidekick and Quentin followed on the second scooter. The police led the way, siren wailing.
The drug was wearing off, and a rising chorus of pain shouted up my leg. I tried to distract myself with the scenery. Behind us, the gleaming tower thrust into the bright sky – a perfect replica of Quentin’s golden railroad spike. I shaded my eyes against it with my hands.
We were zooming along the city streets, weaving through crowds of people.
“Out of the way!” the Captain shouted.
We dropped down a tunnel, then up into the open air again. Neutral Isle bridge was in sight now. Kintz were crowded onto it, heading to watch the final contest at the Great Arena.
We got separated from our police escort in the mob, and we bulled our way to the bridge entrance without them. A guard confronted us.
“Halt!” he said. “No vehicles are allowed on Neutral Isle.”
The Captain shoved him hard with both hands. The guard tumbled off the bridge.
SPLASH!
“I hope that guy can swim good,” Quentin said.
The Neutral Isle landscape blurred past. We dropped down the tunnel to the Great Arena and came up again at the clinic. The potion had worn off completely now, and pain was exploding in my leg like blasts of thunder. I was beyond screaming.
The two Kintz doctors in white jumpsuits appeared.
One of them aimed a shiny gizmo at my leg and Zapf! The pain vanished, replaced by a huge numbness. I sagged with relief.
Robot attendants transferred me onto a hover table. Someone dabbed a wet cloth on my forehead – Ilona!
“Do you feel any better?” she asked.
“Y-yeah, lots ...”
Quentin stood on the other side of the hover table. “Hang in there,” he said, “you’re in good hands now.”
“Lady Amanda!” a strong voice called.
I looked over to see the Captain and Sidekick standing in the doorway. They snapped to attention and shot out their arms in salute. I raised a hand to acknowledge them, as I’d seen Hitler do in the newsreels. They spun around on their heels and marched off.
“I can’t believe I did that,” I said.
The doctors were working fast. Thank heaven, they put up a sheet so I couldn’t see what they were doing. Ilona moved off to speak with them.
“Pretty bad, isn’t it?” I asked when she came back.
“Yes, Lady Amanda.” She took my hand. “The doctors say that an entire week might pass before you are recovered.”
“A week,” I said, “are they magicians?”
Quentin squeezed my other hand. “Well, I’ve got to go, Amanda. The game will be starting soon.”
“Good luck,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” Quentin said, “we’ll beat those guys – guaranteed.”
***
The doctors finished working, and attendants transferred me to a small room. Ilona stayed with me throughout, Tricia and Kimmy appeared after a while, too. A long bag type thing surrounded my leg. Through the clear sides, I could see some sort of bright liquid flowing around.
I drifted off into a heavily drugged sleep.
Elsewhere in this gigantic complex, the final contest began. The roaring of the crowd echoed through the walls and punched into my brain. I wondered what might be happening in the all-important battle.
Was our side winning? was Quentin okay? I should have been worried, but everything seemed so unreal. I was too doped up to think straight. Besides, what could I do, anyway? I just tried to sleep ...
Then there was my Captain. His mysterious, commanding presence drifted in an
d out of my dreams like a phantom. I wanted to drift away with him.
34: Abrupt Awakening
I drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. Always the same scenario: a mighty roar from the mob, I’d wake up and look over at Ilona. She’d be all tense and worried, and paler than ever – if that was possible for a Kintz. Then I’d drop back to sleep.
Finally, an uproar occurred that was not possible to ignore. It was right here in the clinic! I jerked fully awake.
“What’s happening, Ilona?” I said.
She poked her head out the door.
“Prince Quentin is injured,” she said.
“Get me out there,” I said.
“But Lady Amanda – ”
“Now, please!” I practically shouted.
She left, soon she was back with an attendant. The robot flicked some controls on my hover bed, and I was floating out into the main clinic.
Chaos. Every member of our flame ball team had crowded in – all of them hurt and bloodied. Their uniforms were ruined, too, some had little more than rags dangling from their bodies. Their crackly language filled the air.
Worst of all were their expressions. I never thought that stiff Kintz faces could display such agony. We must have lost! The full horror of this had hardly begun to sink in when I glimpsed the center of their attention – Quentin.
He lay on a hover table with the two Kintz doctors working furiously on him. Attendants started pushing the grieving team members back.
“Get me up there!” I said.
Ilona and my robot shoved me through the crowd until I was right next to Quentin. I could scarcely look at his battered face. One side was horribly swollen and the eye was puffed shut. What other terrible injuries had he suffered – was he even alive?
“Oh, Quentin,” I said, “you were always so brave.”
The good eye fluttered open, and Quentin turned his head slightly my direction. His voice came out weak and gurgly
“Hey, Amanda ...” He raised two fingers in a trembling victory sign. “Piece of cake.”
The attendant whisked me away. I recognized Eddie in the crowd. He was badly beaten up, and his nose looked broken. He held a handkerchief up to it.
“What happened?” I said. “Did you win?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I hope we didn’t pay too much, though.”
His voice was sad, muffled by the bloody handkerchief.
“I thought they were going to murder Quentin when he scored the winning goal,” he said, “but their captain intervened.”
Hours of fear dragged past. Ilona recited the list of Quentin’s injuries: broken ribs, internal bleeding, a fractured skull ... I had to block my ears to keep from screaming.