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Christie Golden: Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets

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Christie Golden Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets

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The official novelization of the blockbuster movie, written and directed by visionary Luc Besson ( ). In the 28th century, Valerian (Dane DeHaan) and Laureline (Cara Delevingne) are a team of special operatives charged with maintaining order throughout the human territories. Under assignment from the Minister of Defense, the two embark on a mission to the astonishing city of Alpha—an ever-expanding metropolis where species from all over the universe have converged over centuries to share knowledge, intelligence and cultures with each other. There is a mystery at the center of Alpha, a dark force which threatens the peaceful existence of the City of a Thousand Planets, and Valerian and Laureline must race to identify the marauding menace and safeguard not just Alpha, but the future of the universe.

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Mercurys, beings that had transformed over time from primarily organic into mineral beings. Analytical, bordering on emotionless, they were almost more alien than the Kortân-Dahuks. Their more accessible “ambassadors,” the politically astute Doghan Daguis, were invaluable in smoothing out communications between humans and these beings also called the Mirrors.

The Palm Murets followed, gaseous beings encased in soft metallic exosuits and wearing elaborate, intimidating masks that belied their inherently peaceful nature. So, too, did the stars behold the arrival of the Arysum-Kormn, a nomadic race of explorers and travelers who prided themselves on familiarity with every species in the galaxy.

The KCO2s, beings who fed on the negative emotions of others, were received with mixed emotions. While they needed to be near beings who suffered fear, pain, or despair, their feeding on such things, as Norton would famously say, “sure cleared the air for the rest of us.”

Martapuraïs arrived, introduced to the humans by their allies, the Kortân-Dahuks. They were aquatic beings encased in bulky full body suits that the captain who first met them, Ezekiel Trevor, likened to “old-fashioned deep-sea diving suits,” which permitted them to live outside of their watery environment. They were large, benevolent, and ichthyoid with long, tentacular arms. Their round-eyed heads were set in the center of their chests.

Upon meeting them for the first time, balding but charismatic Captain Trevor smiled diplomatically and held out his hand. Blinking solemnly through the bubble of its helmet, the Martapuraï extended its tentacle fingers. Trevor kept the smile glued to his face as his fingers closed around the cool, gooey appendages.

“Welcome aboard,” he managed gallantly.

Humanity, which had once scoffed at the very idea of extraterrestrial life, swiftly began playing host to not just a few, but dozens, and eventually thousands, of different species.

Over time, the thing that made Alpha so special—the welcome it extended to so many sentient beings—became a danger to the very planet that had symbolically opened its doors wide. But there was a way to stay hospitable and to protect the vulnerable Earth. And this, too, the stars saw.

It was time for Earth to say farewell and bon voyage to Alpha Space Station.

The speech the president of the World State Federation made was without precedent, and recordings of the historic moment would be seen in Earth classrooms for as long as there would be an Earth.

“The intergalactic space station has reached critical mass in orbit. It now poses a serious threat to Mother Earth,” announced the tall, elegant statesman. He was in his early seventies, his once-gold hair now nearly silver. His piercing blue eyes gazed into the camera as he spoke. “In its great wisdom, the Central Committee has decided to use all resources necessary to release the space station from the Earth’s gravity.”

Shots of the president’s recognizable, still-chiseled face were interspersed with the images of hundreds of ships that looked like fireflies with their wide rear engines and four grasping arms, attaching themselves to the space station. They activated simultaneously, and, slowly but steadily, the gargantuan space station shifted away from Earth, pushed to a distance where it would be able to escape the mother world’s gravitational grasp. Then, the stars watched as the smaller ships disconnected themselves, permitting Alpha to drift to its future home.

“Its new course is set for the Magellan Current,” the president continued. “Like the great explorer Ferdinand Magellan, the Alpha station will journey into the unknown, a symbol of our values and knowledge. It will carry a message of peace and unity to the farthest reaches of the universe! Our thoughts and prayers go with you… Godspeed, and good luck.”

As the stars, and so many others, watched, the station was sucked into the current, and whisked away from Earth until Alpha Station, too, was to those on Earth no more than another tiny speck in the star-filled universe.

CHAPTER ONE

2710 Planet Mül. Constellation QN 34

The living light above her waved its glowing filaments gently; in this it was, like all things in the world, in tune with the stars, seasons, sun, and sea. She responded to the gradually increasing illumination by opening her impossibly blue eyes, blinking peacefully, slowly awake, welcoming the new day with the same tranquility with which she had welcomed slumber the evening before.

Her soft, still-drowsy gaze took in the warm pink and coral hues of her bedchamber. Light spilled down the curving staircase, and the shiny surfaces of the enormous shell’s walls and ceiling picked up the gleam and suffused the room with rosy brightness.

Her skin caught the light, too; a white that was so much more than a stark, single color. It was decorated with images that changed shape as her moods did: art of the spirit.

Pale and celestial-seeming as moonlight, her smooth, soft skin held every color of the rainbow blended into a pearlescent, ever-shifting, subtle glow.

She was Lïho-Minaa, and she was a princess.

A soft squeak beside her drew her gaze from the familiar shape of the chamber to her favorite little friend, who always snuggled beside her while she slept. Lïho-Minaa smiled as the creature snuffled at her neck happily with its long snout, offering its furry, impossibly soft belly for scratches. It was small enough to perch in her hand, but never feared being smothered by its mistress when she slept—the hard, bumpy scales on its back would wake her before any harm would be done.

Moving with the easy grace of a curling wave, she swung her legs to the smooth floor and stretched, before placing her little friend atop her shoulder. Rising, the princess padded barefoot to the giant clamshell affixed to the wall. It did double duty. The upper portion had been polished to create a reflective surface, albeit an imperfect one. Its base cupped dozens of large pearls, the one at the center as large as her own head. Above this base that served as a sink, a luminous, tendrilled creature, kin to the one suspended over the princess’s bed, provided light, but the pearls themselves also emitted a soft, pulsing glow as multicolored energy shifted within their smooth surfaces.

Lïho-Minaa smiled at herself and her small friend on her shoulder. He opened his slender muzzle for an enormous yawn, and she laughed. She dipped her long, elegant fingers into the shell’s bowl, scooping up handfuls of small pearls. As if they were water in solid form, she brought them to her face and rubbed them on her skin. Any trace of sleepiness fled from her. Her blue eyes brightened, her skin became even smoother and tauter about her fine bones. She felt restored, refreshed, and energized, and she carefully let the pearls she had cupped return to their fellows in the bowl.

Before she departed, she fastened a simple necklace about her long, slender throat. It consisted only of a chain and a single exquisite pearl. Gently, the princess touched it, and the pearl thrummed, glowing gently at the caress.

Ascending the steps, she emerged outside into the dawning day. Lïho-Minaa was seldom sorrowful. Her life, and those of the rest of her people, was filled with rhythm and calmness and beauty. But if she ever did feel melancholy, all she needed to do was look around at what her world showed her.

She felt powdery white sand between her toes, heard the soft, endless sound of the languid ocean reaching up to touch the shore, then withdrawing its watery fingers. Enormous shells of different shapes and colors dotted the beach, some even sitting in the shallow aqua-turquoise water: homes to family and friends.

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