Christie Golden - Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets

“Bubble!” he murmured. “No, no… I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do!”

The slit of her mouth turned upward in a lopsided attempt at a smile that broke his heart.

“There’s not much you can do. It’s all right. Where I come from, death is less painful than life.”

The words were a knife. “Don’t say that!”

Bubble gave him a faint smile. “Unfortunately, it’s true. Life’s a drag when you never have an identity to call your own.”

Taken aback, Valerian suddenly smiled at Bubble. He cradled her in his arms, very tenderly. “But you do have an identity. You’re a hero. And more than that—you’re the greatest artiste I have ever seen.”

Bubble’s blank eyes filled with scarlet tears. “I thank you. It was a pleasure performing for you. Just… one last role…”

Her face screwed up with effort. Then, suddenly, her color shimmered, cutting through the red into white cloth, gold jewelry, smooth brown skin, and sleek black hair. Eyes decorated with exaggerated black lines crinkled in a smile.

Nefertiti.

“I leave you my kingdom,” she said, her voice sonorous and strong, though her body was failing. “Take good care of it.”

“I will,” Valerian promised her solemnly.

Through her pain, Bubble continued to struggle to speak. “Most importantly…”

“Yes?”

The Queen of Egypt—or more importantly to Valerian, a big-hearted glamopod—extended an arm in the direction of Laureline, who stood a few steps away, eyes wide and silent. “Take good care of her . Love her without measure.” She smiled gently. “‘There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.’”

Bubble closed her eyes and sank back into Valerian’s arms. As he held her and watched in grieving, respectful silence, her body began to solidify until it became rock hard—an ancient statue of Nefertiti. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, she crumbled into sand, trickling through Valerian’s arms till nothing was there.

Valerian stared at the pile of sand, feeling lost and alone. Something brushed his shoulder, and he looked up to see Laureline gazing down at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Valerian’s own eyes filled as well as he reached up and took her hand.

General Okto-Bar stood at the console. His eyes were on the ships gathering in preparation for… what? War? Evacuation of the station? The more facts that came to light, the murkier everything seemed to become.

Sergeant Neza stepped beside his commanding officer. “All the battleships have docked, General,” Neza informed him.

Okto-Bar glanced at the map. He saw no signal from his agents. But he did see that the red spot in the center of the station had increased.

“I want Section One operative now,” Okto-Bar ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” His eyes flitted to the doorway—and the large, featureless, black metal robot that stood there. “What is this K-TRON doing here?”

“Commander Filitt’s orders,” Neza answered. “He personally programmed them, and he’s therefore the only one who can deactivate them.”

What the hell did he program them to do if he was killed? Okto-Bar wondered, but did not say. The general eyed them. They endured the scrutiny with their usual stoic silence. “So, we’re stuck with them until we find their master?”

“No, sir, not at all. Once you choose the section to execute the operation, the K-TRON will follow and assist them.”

“Great,” grumbled the general. “That’s all we need.”

Valerian and Laureline walked along a trail that became ever narrower and rockier, as if they were headed into the center of a planet. They moved steadily and briskly, but there was a somberness that dogged their steps. So much had happened in so short a time, and they were still no closer to finding out what had happened with Commander Filitt, or the identities of the mysterious aliens who had kidnapped him—including the one who Valerian knew he had seen before. They hadn’t spoken much since… since Bubble.

At one point, they passed the wreck of a spaceship, and Laureline asked, “You know where you’re going?”

“Sure. I mean, I guess…” Valerian replied. He frowned a little.

“You’re sure, or you guess?” prodded Laureline.

He gave an exasperated little grunt and looked at her. “Don’t ask how, but the princess, the one in my dream… she’s guiding me.”

“The princess is guiding you?”

Valerian made a face. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but… it’s like she’s been with me the whole time.”

Laureline came to a halt. “Wait just a minute,” she said. “You mean… you have a woman inside you? Since the beginning of this mission?”

Valerian sighed. The whole thing made him both uncomfortable and confident in ways he couldn’t even begin to articulate. “Laureline, can we keep going and talk about this later?”

“Sure,” she said, and then smothered an impish smile as she extended an arm, indicating that he should precede her. “Ladies first?”

“Hilarious,” Valerian said flatly.

But he stepped forward.

Captain Kris was the leader of Section One. Forty years old, his scarred face was mute testimony to the fact that he had seen his share of battle. He was honored that his unit had been tapped to lead the mission to infiltrate the center of the station and recover the abducted Arun Filitt. The ship docked with the station, sealed, and then the steel door opened. On their captain’s orders, dozens of heavily armed soldiers sprinted inside the station. Kris brought up the rear and moved to one side.

“Captain Kris, Section One operational, General Okto-Bar,” he reported.

“Good,” came Okto-Bar’s voice. “You may proceed. Be advised that a unit of K-TRONs will join you.”

Kris’s lips thinned. He had no fondness for the silent, hulking robots. He had fought enough battles to know that while robots and androids had their uses, in the thick of battle, you wanted a sentient, thinking, feeling being beside you. He admired Okto-Bar’s reputation, but wondered if the general had been away from active fighting too long to understand that sending in a unit of K-TRONs was an insult to an elite team like Section One. “That won’t be necessary, sir. My people can handle this.”

“It’s an order, Captain.”

“Copy that.”

Even as he spoke, the promised unit of robots clattered up. They halted as one, weapons in hand, perfectly still, awaiting his orders. Kris swallowed his annoyance.

“Elite unit, with me.”

They followed his team obediently as he led them into the heart of the station.

Guided by a mysterious, literal “dream girl,” feeling the little tugs inside that said this way and over here , Valerian guided Laureline deeper into the heart of Alpha Station. The desolate landscape, looking as if it had been abandoned for years, did nothing to improve his mood.

He wondered if he should keep his conclusions to himself, but decided not to. Laureline was his partner. She deserved to know.

“We’ve been manipulated from the start.” Valerian’s face was grim.

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, we’re in the middle of the so-called dead zone. And we can breathe normally.”

Little rodents scurried past, pausing to look up at them curiously before scampering about on ratty business.

“We’re that far in?”

He nodded somberly.

“You’re right… and there’s absolutely no trace of contamination,” said Laureline, looking around.

“This whole mission is a set up,” Valerian said, angrily. “We’ve been played, Laureline. Out and out lied to. Everyone has, including General Okto-Bar. The commander was fully aware of what was behind this so-called ‘absolute evil’.”