The Theft of the Super raider
 
 by Lee Parten
 

  
My name's Knight.  "Hawk" Knight. My given name is William, but if anyone but my sweet mother called me that, I'd pop 'em one. This here's the story of my reformation. This ain't your typical " ya gotta believe me, judge " tale you hear from a guy in the slammer. you're probably not goin' to believe it - I'm not even sure I do and I'm livin' it ! 

I don't got much of a formal education, but I always liked learnin' things, an' it was easy for me to pick up information in my brain an' keep it there. I read books, but I never let any of th' guys see me with one. I had a rep' to protect, after all. 

I did the doughboy thing against the Hun. I learned that behaving myself was no guarantee against gettin' shot, so I was in the brig almost as much as I was in the trenches. I guess there just wasn't enough fight out there, what with the shells and bullets and flashin' bayonets. I liked to pop people too much, so it didn't take much to send my fist flyin' against my fellow soldier. 

After the war, I fell in with a bad crowd. What the papers called "gangsters", actually. I was a chauffeur for one of the biggest mobsters around at the time, Nicholas "Moxy" Pearl, racketeer, bootlegger, and master of the hired rub-out. I mostly drove the boss around in his big Packard, but every once in a while, when Moxy was in a generous mood, he'd let me do some rubbing out for him. For these special occasions I used Sweet Sue, my Colt .45 automatic. I make no apologies. I made some extra G's, and they always deserved it. 

Unfortunately for Moxy, a rival Boss, called Fat Sam, began to see Moxy's bath tub gin squeezin' into his territory, and decided it was time to ventilate Moxy. 

I was drivin' for him that day in 1928, as usual, when we got surrounded at a stop light by several flivvers full of Fat Sam's goons. I recognized one of 'em, can't recall his name, but he was an old poker buddy from my reform school days. I remembered those ice blue eyes of his - best poker face in the class. He and two buddies stepped out of the car nearest my side. They were all toting Tommy guns. Moxy, in the back seat, knew his number was up. I kept hearin' him mumble " Oh no, oh no ! " under his breath. Guys with heaters were gettin' out of the other two autos, too. I counted eight goons in all. All of 'em packin'. 

Then a peculiar thing happened. The guy with the creepy peepers, Ice Eyes I'll call 'em, stepped up to the car and opened my door. I wasn't sure what was up, because he had that grinder pointed at my face. 

"Get out"., he said. 

I felt the weight of Sweet Sue in the holster against my chest, but I knew one finger twitch in that direction would get me killed in a half-second. Moxy started slidin' toward his door like Ice Eyes had been talkin' to him. One of Ice Eyes' friends shoved the nose of his Tommy through the open window. Moxy stopped slidin' and started blubbering. Loudly. The man had no dignity. 

Ice Eyes motioned toward the street with his gun.  "This is for all those poker games we won. 'Ya got five seconds. Run. Don't look back." 

I didn't have to be told twice. I stole a quick glance  at Moxy. His pasty puss was wet from cryin' like a baby. I took off. About three seconds into my hundred yard sprint, I heard all those heaters open up on the Boss. Reachin' the nearest corner, I stopped to risk a look. It wasn't pretty. 

Those guys were standin' in a semi-circle and unloadin' into the car. I saw the Boss rocking and jerkin' from side to side as the hot lead cut into him like butter. He looked like he was tryin' to dance the Charleston in the back seat of his car. It was almost funny. 

A few hours later I had to claim Moxy's body from the morgue. Fat Sam's men had pumped 143 slugs into him. He looked like ground hamburger. I decided  it was time to look for a new line of work. 
  
  

I was reading the Boss's obituary in the paper when I happened to see something else that caught my eye. It was an article about a recently discovered gas, used for medical purposes, called "Somnus". Somnus was, near as I could tell from the short write-up, a natural gas discovered by accident in the hills of Pennsylvania. This tiny, rocky area of hillside the newspaper spoke of was the only source for this gas, so far. It was bein' hailed as a " miracle vapor " because it put animal test subjects into a state of  " suspended animation ".  ( There was some speculation among the scientists and docs about weather the gas worked on people in the same way. )  This meant that they looked dead, but they weren't. It was some kinda sleep that could last for days, weeks, or even months. The whole time the subject was under, it didn't need to move, eat, or even breathe. All it took was an infusion of fresh air to bring 'em around. Ain't that a kick ? 

It didn't take long for me to start scheming. I thought that if I could get my mitts on some of that Somnus, I could become my own Boss ! I could put, say, a bank full of people asleep and loot the joint at my leisure. I could knock over a hundred banks with this stuff. 

Or why stop there ? Why just banks? I could put a whole block, or even an entire city, to sleep, then take over ! Admittedly, my plans weren't too well thought out at this point, but I was on a roll. I needed an "in". 

The paper said that samples of the Somnus was to be flown from the Pittsburgh Airfield to France aboard the zeppelin "SkyQueen" in two days, for further tests and refinements by a bunch of European eggheads. I had begun to get uneasy in Chicago - people was startin' to talk about how I must've been in on Moxy's murder on account'a I got away without a scratch. I decided to beat it outta there and try to catch that airship. 
  
  

Two days later I was at the Pittsburgh Airfield lookin' across the aerodrome at the "SkyQueen".      (  I say " airfield ", but the whole area was hardly more than a flat stretch of land with a runway, a couple of mooring towers for those big floaters, and a command buildin' that looked like a big tool shed. ) 

The paper said that it was supposed to snow; an early blizzard was heading our way, and I had my doubts about weather the ship would take off. But from all the activity on the ground an' in an' out of that big balloon, the flight looked to be a "go". 

There was this one little guy I kept watchin' from my spot behind the command building, a mechanic or engineer from the look of 'him. It looked like his coveralls would just fit me, if you get my meanin'. I knew I could take him, if only he would stray within my reach. 

Finally he did. I didn't want to risk squeezin' a round off with Sweet Sue, just in case it could be heard over the noise of the airsfield. I just pointed the gun between his beady eyes when he rounded the corner of the building. Once I had him pinned to the wall, I popped him one, a quick rabbit punch to the face that knocked his lights out. As he slid to the ground, I started liberating him of his coveralls. By that time it had started to snow. 

Ten minutes later I was in the engine room at the rear of the "SkyQueen"'s undercarriage, tryin' not to be seen as I made my way to the cargo hold where I figured the Somnus was being stored. I was hoping to grab it and beat it outta there before anyone knew what hit 'em. 

Much to my surprise, while I was monkeying around from compartment to tiny compartment, the "SkyQueen" left the ground ! When I felt the ship lurch and shift slightly, I looked out the row of windows and saw nothin' but clouds and fallin' snow. I had to wedge my face against the glass to see the ground moving away from me, fast. The ground crew looked like a bunch of ants. My heart fell into my shoe. This was a problem that, in all honesty, I hadn't figured on. 

I suddenly felt air sick, and the noise of the engines was givin' me a headache. I had to find a place to hide so's I could collect myself. It looked like my simple theft was goin' to have to become something big. 

I found a dark corner in the very rear where I sat and made some decisions. Outside, the storm was worsening into a blizzard. I figured the Captain had thought that he could beat the storm, but it had caught us. The airship rocked and creaked around me as the wind began to whistle loud enough to be heard even over those blasted engines. A couple of times, as I watched out the window, a gale would send us reeling dangerously close to the mountains. Too close for my comfort. I suppose the real engineer would have been doing somethin' to help, if I hadn't taken his place. It was time to take action. 

I whipped out Sweet Sue and walked to the center of the carriage like I owned that big balloon. In the hallway I saw a kid in coveralls like mine with his face pressed against the window. the scene outside was one big howling mass of white. Ice was strartin' to form on the windows. 

I walked up behind the kid and stuck the Colt against his back.  " Stick 'em up. "  ( I always  wanted to say that. ) 

"Hey !", he yelled. I let him turn around to face me. " Who the heck are  you ?" , he said, and when his eyes fell on my coveralls,  "Where's Frank ? We've been looking for him. the Captain's having a fit !" 

I smiled.  "Frank's takin' a nap in his drawers back on the earth. Where's the Somnus ?" 

His eyes got big.  "Jeez, we need that guy! We need Frank !" 

 "The Somnus, kid !"   I put my piece against his tender jaw. 

 "Okay, okay !"   He led me straight to it. Finally, the prize. The cargo hold was the biggest place I'd seen on this thing yet. And there it was, four canisters of the magic gas, each about three feet tall and six inches around, siting in the middle of the floor and surrounded by assorted junk in crates and bails. 

Suddenly, the steady drone of the engines became a coughing sputter. The "SkyQueen" lurched hard to port, and me 'n the kid were sent careening against the compartment wall. All that junk on the deck, includin' the canisters of my precious Somnus, went sliding across the room and made a big pile at the far corner. 

CRASH ! 

Some kinda alarm started goin' off, as the port wall became the new floor. The kid's face went green as we both fought to keep on our feet. I had a hard time keepin' a bead on the kid with Sweet Sue. 

 "Look!" , he shouted, pointin' out the window.  " We're going down !" 

He was right. At the window I saw the mountains looming close enough to touch, clearly visible through the swirling snow. Our angle was steep and by the way that rocky scenery was zippin' by, we were droppin' like a lead weight. 

"Ice is weighing us down, we're going to crack up !"   The kid was screamin' now. Suddenly he bolted outta the room and slammed the door shut in my face.      "I'm getting out of   here !" , I heard him say, as he half-ran, half-stumbled down the hall. I let him go. Besides, where was he gonna "get out"   to ?  It looked like all our numbers were up. 

The lights flickered once, twice, then went out completely. The "SkyQueen" must've started tumbling at that point, 'cause I think I hit every wall available. I could hear men screamin', glass breakin' and metal crunchin' in the other parts of the ship. All of that cargo and me must've spun around together a bunch'a times, like bein' in a cement mixer with a load of bricks. At some point in all of this my lights went out too. All I remember hearin' after that was silence, an' th' strange, far-off hiss of escaping gas. 

I didn't remember anything else for a long, long time.... 
  
  

Slowly, I became hip to a little light seeping into the eternal darkness. My mouth felt like it was full of sand. I sat up, not sure exactly were I was or what happened. Quarters were cramped. I felt around and found Sweet Sue in the dirt. I brushed her off and put her in my holster. I could dimly see a buncha rubble around me, a few chucks'a glass, and a twisted girder, all covered with a thick layer of dust ! The light seemed to be comin' from behind and just above me, so I moved as best I could in that direction and felt around for some kinda opening. I felt like a blind man groping around in a grave, a little scared that I might bring something down on my head, because all I felt was boulders. I must've been in a cave. How'd I get in here ? 

After scratchin', pullin' and pushin' on all that rock, I finally managed to dislodge a big boulder, and bright daylight poured into my little space. I was free. I staggered out into the warm sun 'n the fresh air of a beautiful warm and cloudless day. Where the heck was I ? Where was the snow ? 

I walked a little piece away from the hillside where I found myself, and looked around. Things became a little clearer. 

     There, flattened against the side of the hill, was the twisted, rusted skeleton of the "SkyQueen". Long, thin girders and beams stuck out here and there from under the craggy rocks and brush. 

Somethin' was screwy here. I reached out and ran my hand along one of the girders. It crumbled to dust at my touch. Either this was real shoddy workmanship, or this thing had been here for a hundred years ! 

My foot struck something and sent it rolling. It was a skull. I picked it up and, as it stared up, jawless, from my hand, I thought of that scared kid.. I figured the rest of the crew of the "SkyQueen" was around here someplace. Tough break. 

Then, it dawned on me. The Somnus ! The crash must have burst open one of those canisters, causin' me to take the Big Sleep. But for how long ? I almost wanted to panic, but being the tough guy that I was, I didn't. I started lookin' around, quick like, tryin' to figure out where, and when, I was. 

Since I was here, and the blimp was here, it was a pretty safe bet I was somewhere in the Northern Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania, probably near the  Pittsburgh airfield we took off  from. It looked like our crash into the mountain had caused an avalanche, which mostly buried the wreck. Since it was warmer and spring-like, I must've been snoozing for about six or seven months. Had a searchparty come in that time ? Just then, my brilliant detective work was interrupted by the unmistakably piercing wail of a child. 

I grabbed Sweet Sue and went around a clump of bushes to see what was up.   I had to put on the breaks real quick or I would'a run right up on a dangerous scene. I back-peddled a few steps and ducked behind a convenient tree, as I tried to make some sense outta what I was seein'. 

Just spitting distance from where I stood, somebody's little boy was stuck up in a tree. The tree wasn't very high, which was a bad bit of luck, 'cause a very tall bear was standin' on two legs and  leanin' against it, taking broad, open-pawed swipes at the kid. With each swat at the little kid's vulnerable legs, the bear came inches closer to hittin' his mark, causin' the kid to holler like a banshee. The kid's cries seemed to infuriate the bear, or maybe he was just really hungry. 

Quickly I took in more details of the scene. I saw a little tool pouch and some kind of buckled harness thing lying at the base of the tree. A few sparkly rocks were spilled outta the pouch, so my guess was that the kid had been taken by surprise while collecting  samples or somthin'. No other grown-ups were in sight, and none within earshot, either, from the look of it. It was up to me to help this kid if he was goin' to get any help. 

What transpired next took place in a matter of seconds. I drew Sweet Sue and stepped out from behind the tree. I stood barely an arm's length from that furry monster. 

" Hey 'ya walkin' throw rug, why don't 'ya pick on someone your own size ? " 

 Then I pulled the slide-bolt an' aimed Sweet Sue with both hands, and pulled the trigger. 

Click ! 

Nothin' happened. Sweet Sue's pin struck the shell, but nothin' came out of my gun. The bear, glancing over his shoulder, gave a low, distracted growl and turned  his full attention to me. He stood up on both legs, and drawin' himself up to his full height, sniffed the air in my direction. 

I hoped the first shot had only been a dud. I adjusted my aim, and squeezed off three more rounds. 

Click ! Click ! Click ! 

Obviously sensing he was in no danger from me, the bear took a step closer. Opening that big maw of his, he roared at me loud enough to make my clothes ripple. 

"RRROOAARR !" 

I took a step back, for my own safety of course, and tossed Sweet Sue aside. She had let me down. It was time for plan "B". 

Just then I remembered readin' somethin' long ago about the nature of bears. Desperate for ideas, I decided to give it a try. I took a step forward, closin' the space between him an' me to mere inches. I was close enough to smell his rotten breath. I threw my arms up, waving them menacingly back and forth, and yelled my deepest, scariest yell right in the bear's face ! For an instant the monster was confused : 

"GGGRRUUNNKK ?!" 

Takin' advantage of his surprise, I drew back my fist and popped him dead in the nose as hard as I could. His sniffer squashed inward like an' overripe tomato, and blood gushed all over his face. He staggered back and grabbed his honker with both paws. That critter's howl of pain was  indescribable. He gave one last feeble, choking roar, sprayin' bloody bubbles though his ruined nose, and bounded away through the brush without givin' me or the kid a second look. 

I helped the little boy down, and for the first time really got a good look at him. 

He looked like a typical American kid - blond, blue-eyed, tan. I guessed he was about ten years old. He had a funny haircut, cropped close on the back 'n sides, long on top. Who was this kid's barber ? 

He was wearin' military-like clothes, similar to a Boy Scout, but without the scarf and badges. 

"Thank you, kind sir !" , he said, as he reclaimed his pouch and that funny harness thing. He strapped it on, fretting over it until he got it to fit just right.   "How did you get here ? Where's your Null-G belt ? My name's Zech. I haven't seen you around the FreeZone before. Are you a transfer ?"   He looked up at me with that shinny face of his with somethin' close to awe. 

He sure was a formal talker. The King's English, I guess. All  those questions were gratin' on my nerves, 'specially since I wasn't sure of the answers. 

 "I ,uh, just got here. I heard you screamin' and came to see what the heck was goin' on.", I managed to answer. He just kept lookin' up at me with that silly grin on his face. I stepped over to the underbrush and retrieved Sweet Sue. 

 "What's that, sir ?" 

Okay, so the kid wasn't too bright.  "Are you kiddin' ? Ain't you ever seen a piece before ?" , I said as I pulled the magazine to check my ammo. You could've bowled me over with a feather when red and black dust, along with corroded shell casings, came pourin' outta it. 

Then Zech moved closer to get a better look at Sweet Sue.  "'Piece' ? Your phrases are strange to me, but since you pointed it at that creature, I take it to be some form of weapon. It appeared to not be working properly." 

               "You can say that again !" , I laughed. 

Zech cocked his head like a little puppy.   "Why would I want to say it again, did you not hear me the first time ?" 

I ain't believin' this. 

Just then, somethin' flew over our heads. I caught a glimpse of what looked like an areoplane, but figured that couldn't be 'cause I hadn't heard the usual noise of an engine. Zech went ape with excitement.  "Mother ! Mother ! Over  here!  Here I am!" 

Then, he did something that made me think I was losin' it. Zech fingered the strange buckle in the middle of that harness thing he was wearin', and shot up into the air ! I thought I was seein' things, or maybe not seein' them, cause there was no kind of propeller or engine on that kid's gizmo, but he was flying like a butterfly.   "Come on, sir !" , I heard him say as he disappeared from sight, effortlessly floatin' off in the same direction as that plane. 
  
  

I managed to catch up to him after several minutes of trudging through the dense woods. I came upon a natural clearin' to find Zech and his mother standin' beside the  little aeroplane. The plane was a two-seater, and the body was shorter than any Jenny I'd ever seen before. It only had one set of wings, instead of th' usual two, serrated and swept back like a bat's. It had no propeller, but  I was wrong about it bein' completely silent. As I approached them in the clearin' I could hear a faint humming sound that seemed to come from the plane. 

I tucked Sweet Sue away, lest there be any misunderstandin', 'ya understand. 

Zech was in the middle of tellin' his mother about how I popped the bear, and when she saw me comin' toward them, her face registered surprise and wonder. Wow, she was a real dish ! She managed to look feminine even in all that leather and Kikai. The outfit didn't do much to hide the body of a stripper. Her hair must've been cut shorter'n a flapper's, and she wore some kinda leather flight cap, but I could see from the stray curls that peaked out from the sides  that she was a gorgeous redhead. 

She extended her hand and gave mine a firm, almost manly shake. " Well, I was about to accuse Zech of telling tales again, but now that I see you, I think he might be telling the truth. Hello, my name is Lieutenant Tegan Jons."   She started staring at me with the same look of awe as her little one. Her eyes were emerald green. 

I made a little bow in acknowledgement.  ( Hey, I got manners too, 'ya know.)  "A pleasure, Ma'am. The name's Hawk. And if you still have any doubts, I can show you a tree back there that's pretty clawed up." 

She smiled, givin' Zech's head a playful rub.   "No doubts, but I will have to see that for myself. "  She paused.  "Where do you hale from, kind stranger ?" , she asked, eyeing my filthy coveralls. 

Lookin' into those eyes, her gaze so strong and piercing, I couldn't lie. Besides, I wasn't that creative. 

"I'm not sure, miss. It'd be a big help if you could tell be where I am." 

Her little brow creased slightly. 

 "What do you mean, Sir Hawk ? Are you not from one of the area Freezones ?" 

I gave a loud exhale of exhaustion. 

 "Lady, I don't even know what a ' FreeZone ' is. Please tell me where and when I am." 

She seemed a little scared of me suddenly.   "Oh Sir Hawk, please don't toy with me. You're several miles east of the Pittsburgh FreeZone. It's three cycles past the noon on the 13th  of April, 2422." 

 "WHAT ?" , I shouted, not meanin' to. I saw Tegan's hand instinctively fall to the holster at her hip. Her hand closed around the butt of what must've been  a very strange lookin' gun. She reached out and drew Zech to her side. 

"What's wrong with him, mother ?" , he asked, lookin' at me with new fright in his eyes. 

An air of stern seriousness came over Tegan. She took in a determined breath.  "Sir Hawk, I am grateful to you for saving my son's life, but now I must ask you to please identify your rank and FreeZone affiliation, or I will be forced to take you into custody !" 

I barely heard her. I felt kinda shaky so I had to sit down on the nearest tree stump.  "2422.", I muttered.   "But it was November, 1928 when I left the Pittsburgh Airfield !" Suddenly It was all becoming clear to me. The Somnus must've put me under for much longer than I first figured. That would explain why the wreck looked like it did, and that poor, dumb kid's skull.  The bullets in Sweet Sue failed to fire because they were more'n five hundred years old ! I was more'n five hundred years old ! 

I heard Zech's voice from somewhere far off : 

  "Mother, is he ill ?" 

Then I heard a noise I hadn't heard before. 
  
  

ZZZAAPP!! 
  
  

Everything in my field of vision  suddenly went blue, and a strange sensation of numbness, like pins 'n needles, sticking me all over my body. 

The sweet nothingness of oblivion swept over me again, and this time I was glad to see it. 
  
  
  
  

I had let a dame get the drop on me, I admit it. But I tell 'ya, even if I'd seen it coming, there was nothing I could've done. I couldn't bring myself to pop Tegan, even if I had had the chance. I was smitten. Me, Mister Tuff -Guy. but that was just the beginin' of my problems. 

I was taken prisoner. I didn't know who they thought I was, or maybe that wasn't the point. I figured maybe they decided to raked me over the coals just on general principles. When I came to, I found myself  in a darkened room, strapped to a chair, an' a odd-shaped helmet was bein' fitted over my head. Through the visor I could see the room was full of people, some in uniforms and a few in white coats. I could hear electricity arcing in the background. I thought the jig was up, and I was about to be fried in some kinda futuristic electric chair. I could see just enough of my clothes to know that someone had taken me out of my stolen coveralls an' then redressed me in th' same khaki an' camouflage  outfit they was all wearin', 'cept mine didn't have any kinda insignia on it. 

Just then I saw Tegan among the other men, and she was staring me dead in the face. Her expression was like flat stone. I saw one of the lab boys in the back of the room pull a large switch with emotionless finality. 

I thought that it was The End. I didn't close my eyes, though. That would've been chicken of me... 

But all I felt was a unnatural calmness come over me, and they started askin' me questions : 

"Is your name 'Hawk' ?" 

The voice came from somewhere in the darkened room. It was a dumb question, so I didn't answer at first. 

 "You can not lie." , said the voice.  "Is your name 'Hawk' ?" 

I wanted to say "yes", of course, but I felt strangely compelled to answer differently, with the truth. 

 "N-no. It's William  Steven Knight. Hawk's my nickname." 

 "What is a 'nick-name' ?" 

Was this guy tryin' to be funny ? 

 "I don' know. It's what people call each other by when they're , ah, too lazy to remember 'your real name, I guess." 

That seemed to satisfy the voice in the dark on that particular subject. 

 "Who is your commanding officer ?" 

"Me." 

"Are you a renegade American ?" 

Was that a trick question.? I decided to cover all the bases. 

"No,...Yes. I don't know." 

I saw sev'ral of the shadowy figures exchange puzzled glances. 

The voice cleared his throat.   "Are you a spy for one of the renegade American groups, or the GeoAsians ?" 

GeoAsians. Now there was another word I didn't have a clue about. 

"Buddy, I don't know what 'yer talking about, but I ain't no spy."   It was gettin' easier to tell the truth. 

"How did you arrive on this side of the mountain chain ? How did you come to rescue young Zech from the wild animal ?" 

At least they believed that part of it. I guess Tegan had seen the claw marks on the tree. At this point, I spilled the whole confusing mess of a story. I rattled it off like some kinda stoolie for the cops, bein' as selective about the truth as I could get away with. I thought that if I told a direct lie they would put some serious amperage into me. I didn't know, at th' time, that that contraption was just a lie detector that mechanically controlled my brain.   I managed to omit my more serious criminal past, startin' the story from the point where I boarded the "Sky Queen", an' why. I told 'em about the Somnus, and what I thought had happened to put me smack in th' middle of the twenty-fifth century. 

When it was all over, the Doc unstrapped me and helped me to my feet, shook my hand and welcomed me to the Pittsburgh FreeZone. Tegan pushed her way up to the front of the crowd and shook my hand again. ( What a grip ! )  She apologized several times for shootin' me with her "Proton Gun", she called it, sayin' how we lived in "dangerous times" and  "subterfuge" was a common tactic used by these renegade Americans to catch "decent Americans" off guard. 

The party broke up after awhile, and the Commander over the whole FreeZone, a man named Cooper, told me I had free run of the place, provided I didn't stray past the borders. He told me  there would soon be some kinda hearin' on my actions aboard the "Sky Queen" I didn't really like the sound'a that, but I played it cool. 

 In a stroke of good luck for me, he made Tegan my "Indoctrination Officer" . I would be assigned temporary quarters in a tent, and it would be her job to show me around until I could be assigned a permanent bunk, responsibilities, and gear. The whole thing sounded like bein' in the army again, which I wasn't too thrilled about, but I was curious about how much things had changed in five hundred years. I figured I'd stick around an' see what was what. Besides, I kinda wanted to get a closer look at one'a those Proton Guns. Maybe lift one when no one was lookin', or earn it if I had to. 
  
  

I was bunked with a fella named Derek that night, but he was on guard duty somewhere outside the camp, so I didn't see much of him. Th' next mornin' before th' sun came up, Tegan woke me up and hustled me outta my nice warm flop. 'Parently they start their days real early in the FreeZone, but since it was Tegan and not just any ugly Joe, I didn't mind too much. 

As we walked to the Commander's office, I asked her to tell me about what the country was like now. Why were they livin' in an armed camp ? What was the closest big city ? Who were the GeoAsians and what was a renegade ? 

What follows is my crash course in post-1928 American History, in Tegan's own words. It Ain't a happy story : 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

" This is not the America you were born into. 

" As near as we can estimate, sometime in the mid-twentieth century, a GeoAsian race calling themselves the Doran, a people far older than the human race, came boiling out of their underground environment and quickly established themselves as the dominant force on the Asian continent. Tireless conquerors, they swiftly subdued any resistant nation with their superior technology and weapons in a lightning quick sweep across the Eastern hemisphere. Not satisfied with just part of the surface world, the Doran set their sites on the rest of the planet. 

" Europe fell in a matter of weeks, unable to hold back the relentless assault of the Doran "Death Barges" and Heat Beams. America became the only hold-out against the murderous invaders. The last fight for American freedom stretched on for nearly a year, but in the face of overwhelming numbers and incredible destructive resources, it was hopeless. Entire cities were melted into slag, its citizenry driven into the surrounding countryside. Many were enslaved. 

" The Doran domination now utterly complete, they turned their attention to building great gold and glass cities upon the ruins of some of America's greatest population centers. Stalking the "wild American" became the favorite hobby of the GeoAsians, as huge mounted hunting parties with nets drove large herds of Americans through the wilderness around their walled cities. 

 " But large pockets of refugees managed to survive the initial slaughter and the hunting parties. Reduced to near savagery, these groups became nomadic in an effort to avoid the Doran Death Barges and Heat Rays, which made less frequent raids on the Americans as time went by. 

" Feeling that they had utterly defeated the Americans by reducing them to a state barely above animals, the Doran began to ignore the surviving Americans. Indeed, the renegades we spoke of remain uncivilized roaming  "gangs" who attack, steal from, and even murder anyone, Free Zone American or Doran, who happens to cross their path. 

" Meanwhile, the Dorans came to regard us as a non-threat, and that was their greatest mistake. 

" Over the centuries the Americans began to regain some form of civilization. Family groups began to ban together for protection and mutual benefit in the North American wilderness. these groups, encouraged by the disregard of the Dorans, began to settle in various places, far from the GeoAsian cities, and took up farming.   We began settling camps beneath largecamouflage netting to help prevent our FreeZones from being spotted fron the air. Living in tents, trees, and, in an ironic turn of events, underground caverns, the Americans managed an almost idealized sense of peaceful community while in exile. Some of these well-established communities, known as FreeZones, eventually banding together in a loose confederation. 

 " Now, we Americans are closer to our goal to one day regain our freedom and reclaim our country. American technology has provided us with wonderful inventions, such as the Null-G harness, which allows us a form of short, propelled flight, and the Proton gun, of which you have had first- hand experience. If  I get my wish, these former tools will be indispensable weapons in the coming fight against these soulless interlopers. 

"What I need to know from you, Sir Hawk, is this :  Can we count on you in the coming confrontation against the enemies of America ?" 
  
  
  
  

I was stunned. I hadn't really thought about what the world might be like now, or what my place in it would be. As much as I was taken by Tegan, I knew that the presence of little Zech meant that there was a Mr. Jons around somewhere. I just didn't know how t' ask her. Or maybe I didn't really want to know. We had reached the Commander's office and she  turned to face me. She was expectin' an answer. 

"I haven't decided." , was all I could manage t' say. She seemed annoyed with me. 

"I see. Well, Sir Hawk, consider this : Outside of the influence of a FreeZone, You have two options. The renegades are as likely to kill you as welcome you among them, and even if they did accept you, your life would be a constant struggle to stay alive. You'll have to fight the other renegades just for the privilege of eating garbage. If you fall into the hands of the GeoAsians, you would probably end up a slave toiling underneath one of their cities, or worse yet, a stuffed head mounted on one of their walls !" She threw her head up with an air of disdain.  "You are expected inside. Good luck, and good day !", and she stomped off  like a bull in full charge. 

I thought her attitude was kinda funny, but I hated that she was mad at me.  It seemed like it took no effort on my part to get her riled up. 

"Oh well.," I thought as I raised the tebt flap and stepped inside.  "At least she didn't shoot me this time ." 
  
  
  
  

A few minutes later I realized what Tegan had meant about luck. She had sort'a forgot to tell me that this meetin' with the Commander was actually the hearin' Cooper had spoke of yesterday. I found myself standin' before a group of old soldiers, and Commander Cooper, seated at a table. 

I had to explain what I had done aboard the "SkyQueen", and what I had planned to do with the Somnus. I gotta give 'em credit for makin' speedy decisions and dealin' swift justice. After my tale was told again, the old boys talked it out amongst themselves for about fifteen minutes, before handin' down there verdict.  The wait while they yacked it out seemed longer than a stint in the cooler. 

"Sir Hawk, There is no excuse for your behavior in the assault of the "SkyQueen"'s Engineer. In addition, your intent to steal this Somnus gas to use in a crime spree is reprehensible. Only the fact of the unexpected blizzard and subsequent crash prevented you from carrying out your plan to take over the airship. 

" However, we are a compassionate people who rarely have to dispense justice for criminal activities. Every member of the FreeZone Confederation is dedicated to the good of the whole and would never even consider committing a selfish, criminal act. 

" We have also taken into consideration your brave act against the bear, saving the life of young Zech Jons. We believe you can change your former ways and become an important, productive member of this FreeZone, if you so wish it. Your knowledge of Ancient America alone could make you an invaluable source of information now lost to us. 

 "Therefore, we have decided to consider your five centuries of suspended animation as time served, and your current situation as a man stranded in a world not your own adequate punishment for your past crimes."   The old soldier punctuated his last sentence with a bang from his gavel. 

Compared to some of the judges I've been in front of, I thought these guys were pushovers. 

Then the old gent added:  "But be warned.  Even a small infraction committed by you will result in the swiftest, severest form of  punishment.  Do I make myself clear?" 

Commander Cooper tried to smiled.   "This is your chance to start over with a clean slate, Sir Hawk. If you would like, I can put you to work immediately in my office." 

 "Thanks Commander, but I'm hardly the secretary type.  Don't have the gams for it."   If I was trapped in the twenty-fifth  century, I didn't want to spend it filing papers an' sharpenin' pencils. 

He laughed.  "Of course not. I mean for you to become part of my staff of military and scientific advisors. You have served in some form of military before, correct ?" 

Now things became clearer to me.  These guys needed my knowledge, in hopes of gaining some sort of advantage against thier enemies.  They didn't mess around when it came to justice and criminals.  They couldn't afford to.  I would probably be wrestlin' a Renagade for a rotten apple core right now, or worse, if I hadn't agreed to help.  But I've always had the ability to go with the flow and bide my time.  I could be patient.  Lets see what happens, I thought. 

  "Yeah....I could give it a try, I guess.  But in case you hadn't noticed, I'm hardly a big brain or a super soldier or anythin'." 

"Nonsense. I think we may be able to use a man such as you, one who isn't as conventional  as your average twenty-fifth century man. I think you may shake things up quite a bit around here." 

"No doubt about that." , I said, and this time I smiled. 
  
  
  
  

II. The Invisible Doom 
  
  

It took a few weeks before I got used to all the new routines and regulations that came with my new environment -  the ins an' outs of life in a FreeZone. One of my first major lessons came a couple of days before I started workin' with Commander Cooper. 

I was still bunkin' with the absent roommate, but after a week 'n a half all I saw of him was evidence of his coming and goin'. Clothes and personal gear would appear an' disappear every couple'a days, always when I was out. The problem began when he showed up one mornin', before daylight, an' politely flipped my bunk over with me still in it. 

For a second I had a flashback to the "SkyQueen" crash, but the instant I realized that the landin' had been too soft to be part of that nightmare, I bounced to my feet In a fighter's stance. I found myself standin' face to chest with a huge brute of a guy. He must've been six-foot-six, three hundred pounds of lantern-jawed palooka with'a neck as big 'round as a medicine ball.  And it was all muscle. 

 "What's the big idea !" , I said, knowin' from the first that I didn't have'a chance against him without Sweet Sue. 

His face was beet-red, an' his huge hands where clenched in rage.   "Stranger ! Bear Killer ! I challenge you for the right to keep my woman !" 

Tegan. This had to be about her. Who was this guy, her husband ?   "Hey, fella, I haven't -" 

"You will fight me, if you intend to take her. Now !"   He charged at me. 

Things moved quickly from that point. I backed up as best I could, but he extended on of those long, thick arms and lifted me off my feet ! He did it in one fluid, effortless motion, without takin' a step. My hand fell on the glass cowl of a lantern just as my feet where leavin' the ground. I was about to bust it over the big ape's head, and he was drawing back his other equally powerful arm to pulverize me, when , thankfully, we were interrupted. 

"Father ! Hawk !" 

 We both looked at the same time to see Zech standin' at the open flap of our tent. His big blue eyes were wide open, takin' in our little unseemly scene. Momentarily, Tegan joined her son in our entranceway 

"Derek ! What are you doing to Sir Hawk ? This man saved Zech's life !" 

Derek sputtered his reply like a two-year-old with his hand caught in the cookie jar.   "I-I'm protecting y-your honor, Honeybunch ! You're my wife, and I want to keep you." 

Tegan put her hands on her hips, that cross look coming on her face.  "Don't be ridiculous. The man is my responsibility, not my lover. It's orders, nothing more. Now put him down." 

 He  slowly lowered me to the ground. He didn't take his eyes off her. 

Tegan must've had that big moose wrapped 'round her little finger. It took several minutes of explainin' an' apoligizin' for me t' get a handle on what had caused this guy 't jump me in the first place 

Derek, who was Tegan's husband after all, had been on guard duty at the FreeZone's border for the past two weeks, only comin' into camp for a few minutes every third day or so for fresh clothes. Unfortunately, these fine, almost puritanical Americans were not immune to spreading a little gossip. Soon Derek started hearin' about a stranger in camp who was spendin' a lot of time with his wife. 

 Tssk.  Some things never change. 

Even though no one had actual accused Tegan of bein' unfaithful, out there all alone in th' wilderness Derek's imagination went into high gear. He knew Tegan was not a wonton woman who would run 'round on him, but he had no idea what kinda guy I was. That unknown factor, plus the fact that there was never enough time to actually hunt Tegan  down an' ask her about it, caused him a lot of anger an' frustration.  Once he was relieved of guard duty, his rotation over, he returned to camp, weary, dirty, to find me, th' very stranger he had heard 'bout, asleep in his tent. 

At that point, th' gentleman had lost his temper. 

For my part, I was willing to let bygones be bygones. I would've hated to have to hurt th' guy in front of Zech, and Tegan. They loved the guy. I couldn't say that I didn't have my eye on the guy's wife. Well actually, I did say that I didn't have my eye on his wife. I'm not an idiot. That guy was built like a prize fighter ! 

Zech got 't tell his daddy the bear story, which mad him happy. He was glad to see his pop, an' had all sorts of projects for them to do durin' the two weeks he was off duty. 

I could tell by th' way Tegan stood on her tip-toes and threw her arms around Derek's neck, kissin' him deeply, that she had missed him very much. It was then that I really came to realize that I didn't have a chance with her. Never did. 

Then, outta the blue, I got invited to dinner at their quarters. I knew that Tegan went off-duty today, too, so after tonight I would be on my own for awhile. I never figured she'd want me hanging around after her assignment was over, but she and Derek made it clear that I was a welcomed member of th' family. 

Gee, imagine that. I never was welcomed into someone's home, much less their family, before. I was beginning to think these folks were the genuine article, an' better'n I deserved. 

Derek smacked me on th' back with that big ham hock hand o' his, hard enough to stagger me. But he was laughin' too so I knew he wasn't tryin' to fight again. 

"What say you, Sir Hawk ? Do you think you can choke down some of my wife's cooking ?" Tegan elbowed him in th' ribs playfully. 

 "Yeah, it'd be a pleasure."   Then somethin' occurred to be that had been botherin' me for th' past two days.   "But can  we can, uh, stop with th' ' Sir Hawk ' bit ? I'm not royalty or anything." 

They exchanged looks and started laughin'. When Tegan managed to stop giggling at me, she explained to me that they use the designation of "Sir" in a similar way we used "Mr." or "Miss" in my time. A "Sir", or "Lady", to them was simply a FreeZone citizen who did not serve as part of the Confederation military, which these days was mostly old people who were retired, scientists, an' kids. 

After that explanation, I had t' laugh too. 
  
  

I went to work in Commander Cooper's office right away. Th' man was true to his word : no pencil sharpenin'. I got a desk right next to his. I didn't have a lot to do at first, which suited me just fine. I did learn an awful lot about the GeoAsians, and exactly how the FreeZone Confederation was preparing to battle them. 

The Commander showed me the FreeZone communications network, an' explained a little about it's operation. Every FreeZone had it's own frequency, an' each soldier had his or her own headset made into those little leather caps they all wore. The Radiophone worked on nothin' but brain power, amplified by relay towers spread out across the countryside. The sweet part of the deal was that th' Dorans couldn't tap into this little radio web- their ears an' brains worked differently an' couldn't translate broadcast signals! Their own communications system was strictly visual- they sent an' received printed messages by type usin' a device called a visuatyper. The best they could do was to destroy the signal relay towers when they came across 'em. This was almost pointless since a FreeZone would just replace it immediately. 

Their eyes were also a little different. The Doran, bein' underground creatures, had very poor, light sensitive eyes. They had to develop special tinted goggles to allow them to bear natural light. This they considered a more than fair trade-off for bein' able to live above ground. 

According to the map shown me, the largest Doran cities were on or near the former sites of New York, Atlanta, Houston, Iowa City, and Los Angeles, th' latter bein' their largest, which they called Prime. This was the seat of the Doran Emperor. 

Small groups of Americans had been makin' disorganized hit 'n run maneuvers against all of these Doran cities for decades, with varying degrees of success. Now, thanks to the work of Commander Cooper and a few other far-sighted FreeZone leaders, the widely scattered FreeZones had recently been pulled together into a Confederation and were planning for th' day when a powerful concerted war, with a reasonable chance fer victory, could be initiated. 

In the meantime, a better organized military allowed the Americans to actually fend off a Doran attack. Just days before I came outta my Somnus-induced coma, the Baltimore FreeZone had been attacked by the GeoAsians, in retaliation for that FreeZone's ambush on a Doran supply convoy. What should've been a massacre of the Americans became th' first great victory for the Confederation. Seein' the Doran Death Barges nearin' their border, they had time to radio for reinforcements from th' nearby Boston FreeZone. The force, ferocious and sheer numbers of the American's counter attack resulted in several dozen dead GeoAsians, a crashed Death Barge, an' the remaining Doran forces bein' driven off. 
  
  

My contribution to the Confederation involved long meetings with th' science council, as they grilled me with questions 'bout common twentieth century devices. The idea of the automobile fascinated them. Few paved roads had survived into their century, and they went crazy when I told 'em there used to be hundreds, maybe thousands of cars runnin' up 'n down 'em every day. 

The common mode of travlin' for the Americans was the Null-G harness. Just about everyone had one of those too. this little number was tinkered together in a FreeZone science lab an' was now bein' mass produced in underground factories all over th' country. The works of th' thing was in th' harness's buckle. Turning it on generated an anti-gravity field around th' person wearin' the harness, nullifying the  effects of gravity on that person. You could manipulate the shape of the Null-G field, therefore allowin' you to steer by changin' the flow an' direction of the air around the field. Propulsion,to use one of the scientist's ten-dollar words, was supplied by small canisters of air attached to the sides of the harness. 
  
  

Thinkin' back to the bi-plane dog fights of the Great War, I got an idea for those short-range planes like the one I had seen Tegan use. The Americans had a weapon they called a Proton Blaster, a bigger rifle-like version of the Proton Gun, that was used by ground troops. I told 'em they should mount a pair of them on those small personal fliers, turnin' a pleasure vehicle into a deadly offensive weapon. After a few field tests, I actually got a commendation for that suggestion, though I had to admit that it wasn't an original idea. I had just sorta revised it. 

And so it went. The work I did really made me feel good about myself, an' I didn't once get th' urge to pop anyone either, 'cept maybe for th' Dorans. 
  
  
  
  

Thanks to Derek an' Commander Cooper I finally got my own tent just a short walk from th' Command buildin'. Th' tent Derek an' I had shared was only a temporary one used as a  rest station for th' border guards while they was on duty, an' unexpected visitors, like me. 

 Derek an' Tegan ranked a fairly spacious apartment located on the second underground level. Most married offiicers had such living quarters. Over th' weeks that followed I had many meals with the Jons family, an' they proved to be the best friends a guy could have. They were probably the only real friends I had ever had up to that point, 'cept maybe for Ice Eyes back in th' twentieth century. Considerin' what happened to me after that, maybe he wasn't really doin' me a favor. 

Derek was a good-natured guy, if a little too submissive to th' will of th' little woman. I had never seen a dame rule over a guy like she did him. It was kinda funny to watch him- he was all man, of course, but anything Tegan said was law. She made th' decisions around th' house, and he was her "honey do".  "Honey do" this , and "honey do" that, if 'ya know what I mean. 

Zech was a little genius. When he wasn't out doin' science projects with rocks an' plants, he was building stuff in his room. Tegan an' Derek, like all FreeZone parents, taught the child at home. He had a head fer science, but one day he told his mom he wanted to be like his uncle Hawk. It surprised me, an' kinda made me ashamed of myself, rememberin' some of the rotten things I had done in th' past. I immediately told him to put such foolishness outta his head, 'cause his Mom an' Pop were a better class of folk than I could ever hope to be. He didn't understand, of course, but Tegan did. She told both of us that what mattered most was what kinda man I was now. 

One evenin', after we had known each other for a couple of months, Derek drew me aside while Tegan an' Zech cleared the dinner table. 

 "Hawk," he began in a low voice,  "I have orders to go on a very important mission outside of the FreeZone next week. It's very dangerous. I want to ask you to do me the honor of taking care of Tegan and my boy, if I don't make it back." 

"Me ? You hardly know me buddy. Ya gotta have better friends'n me around here." I was a little spooked by what he was askin' of me. 

He put his big arm around my shoulder.  "I have friends that I have known longer, true, but I've been watching you with the boy. He's taken a liking to you. He loves your gangster stories, and you've taught him to play this base-ball game your people used to play. If anything ever happens to me, I want him to have someone in his life he can continue to learn from." He stole a quick, loving glance over his shoulder at Tegan. 

"My wife is very strong-willed, that's why I married her, but she is a soldier too, and if anything ever happened to her, Zech may end up on his own years before he can enter the militia himself. He will need a guardian, if the worst happens." 

I was touched, but what did I know about raisin' a kid ? I liked hangin' out with the little guy, mainly 'cause he found me so interestin', but... 

Then the thought occurred to me that maybe Derek didn't really expect to come back from this next mission. I knew that he had told Tegan he had drawn another two week stretch of   " boring guard duty".  He hadn't mentioned a dangerous secret mission to her, for obvious reasons. Maybe this was his way of insurin' that his family would be taken care of, in case this secret killed him. 

  At the same time, I also found myself  becomin' concerned with his safety.   It was like he had become the big brother I never had. I wanted to know what was up, but I also knew that in Cooper's unit a secret stayed a secret. I decided it was best not to ask. 

Derek was staring intently at me while all of this was runnin' through my brain. 

"I'll do my best Derek. But you be sure an' come back to them, 'cause you gettin' killed would be a heckuva way to test my parentin' skills." 

We shook hands, an' nothin' more was said about it. 
  
  

One mornin' about a week later, a grim lookin' guard from the eastern border marched into camp with the bloody helmet and gory, tattered remains of Derek Jons' uniform. Derek had missed two scheduled check-ins that mornin', and when his fellow soldier was sent t' check on him, these gruesome remnants were all that could be found at Derek's post. It looked as if th' powerful Derek had been attacked an' ripped apart by a pack of wild animals. 

I had seen blood before, of course, spilt plenty of it myself even, but seein' that gear and knowin' they belonged to Derek gave me a sick feelin' in th' pit of my stomach. I asked Commander Cooper if I could be the one to break th' news to Tegan and Zech. He agreed. I took th' helmet an' uniform to the edge of camp an' buried them. there was no need in Tegan seein' them. 

Tegan was a professional soldier, and took th' news like a professional soldier, in public. I don't know how she handled it in th' privacy of her quarters, but I imagine it involved a lotta cryin' an' grievin'. After a week or two she seemed fine, showin' the same aggressive air an' indomitable will in the way she carried herself, but some of th' fire had left her eyes, an' her spirit. 

Zech became quiet an' withdrawn, spendin' most'a his time in his room. He threw himself into his hobbies. One day I asked him what he was inventin', and he told me, in a quiet voice full of deadly earnest, that he was workin' on a device that would drive away wild animals, an' make the wilderness safe for soldiers, like his father, to guard the FreeZones. 

That put a lump in my throat. I was gonna miss that big palooka. 
  
  

By the followin' fall, Commander Cooper's office had become a real hive of activity. The Confederation Council, seated at the Syracuse FreeZone, had finally approved the move toward a more aggressive stand against the Dorans.The Confederation arsenals and munitions factories, hidden three and four stories beneath the largest Freezones, were up and running fulltilt.  Large scale attacks were sent against the Doran cities now sittin' near the melted slag of New York and Atlanta. Radio-controlled bombs, loaded down with explosives but made lighter 'n air by Null-G fields, were directed in large waves against these cities, their detonations causin' the near-collapse of the target cities infrastructures. 

The Baltimore FreeZone had recovered the communications equipment from the crashed Death Barge. It was then "back-engineered" and copied, an' a Intelligence Corps was put together to monitor an' translate Doran messages. All of th' larger FreeZones got one of the machines, an' th' men to go with it. Since our FreeZone was second in size only to the one in Syracuse, we got a Intelligence outfit too. 

After our bombing attacks, we started interceptin' reports of civil unrest within th' Doran cities. Intelligence was able to pick out references  to some kinda fifth column growin' in popularity among the Doran populace. This group, callin' themselves  th' " Reversist Collective ", was all fer the return of the GeoAsians to their underground world. They were callin' , quietly an' meekly at first, for a revolution. 

Add to this acts of disobedience an' organized revolt by th' American slaves, their spirits lifted by th' increasin' Confederation attacks, an' you had one big headache for the Doran Emperor. 

Of course our attacks didn't go unanswered. Half a dozen FreeZones between th' mountain chain and the east coast were rooted out an' beamed mercilessly by Death Barges with Heat Rays. Thanks to th' Confederation Intelligence four of th' 'Zones got enough advanced warnin' to clear outta th' camps, leavin' only empty tents an' buildin's for them to set fire to. 

The Savannah an' Charlotte FreeZones didn't get so lucky. We lost nearly a thousand men, women an' children at those sites. Accordin' to th' Doran propaganda, overheard after their attacks, millions of us "vermin" were wiped out in these "glorious" military maneuvers. 

News from Prime City was picked up an' relayed to us that the Doran Emperor was preparin' to wipe out th'  "American trash" once an' for all. He ordered that all American slaves within the Doran cities were to be executed immediately. At Cooper's office our mouths hung open in shock an' disbelief at this announcement. 

This caused th' Confederation President, by popular demand, to petition the Council for an official declaration of war to be made. It got instant approval. 

The Emperor underestimated his own people. They were annoyed with th' Emperor's laziness, blaming him for this new surge of American aggression. They were  also upset over th' prospect of loosin' their slave work force - seems they didn't have any problems with their own laziness. Cooper figured these actions on th' Emperor's part must've caused a further swell in the ranks of the Reversist group. 

Unexpectedly, th' open, wholesale slaughter of th' American slaves led to the much put-upon slaves turnin' on their masters. In every city in th' Doran Empire the slaves revolted, killin' hundreds of GeoAsians and burnin' entire districts to th' ground before th' uprise was finally put down. The Empire had to set its Death Barges on their own cities. 

When th' smoke cleared, millions of slaves had been killed, with an almost equal number of dead Dorans. The Doran city near Atlanta had been taken over completely by that city's former captives, and I heard a rumor that the ol' Stars an' Bars had been run up a pole on th' highest buildin'. The Reversists had become a big political force, openly callin' for th' Emperor's head. All of this had happened within a five month period, an' I had yet t' lay eyes on my first GeoAsian. 

That was about to change. 
  
  

By early November my security clearance was good 'enough for me t' sit in on Cooper's meetin's with Intelligence. What th' officer showed th' Commander at this particular meetin' was of great interest to me.  Scattered 'cross th' Commander's desk was several grainy visuascreen plates (Similar to twentieth century photographs)  of what th' Intelligence officer, who's name was Dunbar, called th' "new Doran secret weapon". They was examinin' them closely with a magnifyin' glass, puzzlin' over several cowled bulbs that ran th' length of what looked to me like some kinda rocketship. 

"Our man in Prime managed to get these smuggled out to our FreeZone courier stationed at the edge of the city.", Dunbar was sayin'. 

"Hmmp.", replied Cooper, with a big puff'a smoke from his thinkin' pipe. "Could these lamps be what I think they are ?", he said after a minute. 

"They may indeed be, something our own people have been working on for years, with less success than the Dorans, apparently.", Dunbar answered. 

Cooper handed me th' plate an' magnifyin' glass so's I could take a closer look. 

I was amazed. Th' picture seemed to show a ship, meant fer flyin', under construction in a large hanger. Made of some strange metal, it was maybe eighty feet long and twenty feet around, cigar-shaped, with a wing-span of maybe another eighty feet. Two rows of windows ran th' length of th' thing, an' a catwalk was set between them, like it was intended to mount guns on it. I saw the cowled lamps Cooper had mentioned set in a pattern, one pointed up an' one pointed down, every ten feet down both sides. 

But what interested me more was the GeoAsian workers. Since no more American slaves remained in th'  Doran cities, they must'a been doin' their own hard labor. I eye-balled their dirty little faces :  They looked like Chinks, long braids an' all, 'cept for their skin was a darker, almost olive color. I remember Tegan tellin' me that the GeoAsians had evolved an' art an' culture almost exactly like th' Chinamen - "parallel" was th' word she used. From th' look of th' fancy silken duds they was workin' in, it must've been a fact. 

So this was th' enemy. I wasn't impressed. 

"Are you familiar with the theory of "Cold Light" , Hawk ?" , Cooper asked me. Of course I wasn't. 

"Well, if this ship has Cold Light mechanics, it can become completely invisible. These cowled lamps we are so interested in are the source of the invisibility screen . Once turned on, this Super Raider vanishes from sight. In the past our only way of preparing for Doran attacks has been with visual spotting by our border guards. This kind of ship would totally negate that slim advantage. Since the Dorans are on to the fact that we can intercept their communications, I doubt that they will announce her maiden voyage." 

"What about noise ?" , I asked.   "Tegan told me those Death Barges make a heckuva racket." 

Cooper nodded.  "True. But this is built along different lines all together. Remember the flyers you helped us modify ? They use a generated anti-gravity field, similar to the Null-G harness. So does this, and it's almost completely silent." 

Dunbar picked up th' lesson at that point.  "We've counted four heat ray cannons and bay doors most likely to be used for explosive drop-canisters. Add that to the catwalks obviously intended for mounted gun batteries, and you have one huge, unstoppable jugarnaught." 

The thought of it made my mouth go dry.   "Does this inside man of yours know when this big bird is gonna take to th' air ?" 

Dunbar looked uneasy.  "These plates are now several weeks old. Our estimate is that it must only be a matter of days." 
  
  

It didn't take that long. the next mornin' th' Las Vegas FreeZone reported bein' attacked by the unseen enemy, but somethin' must've gone wrong with th' Super Raider's attack. Several of the explosive drop-canisters failed to detonate, and a whole bunch of obvious strategic targets, such as the aerodrome, survived almost unscratched. The target FreeZone was one of th' smaller ones, so only a dozen or so people were injured, with three deaths. Still, th' first test of th' Doran's new super weapon was less destructive than it should've been. It looked like th' Captain of th' ship had been holdin' back for some reason. 

While we were puzzlin' over this bit of news in Commander Cooper's office one of th' Intelligence Officers busted in with an update that nearly knocked our socks off ! 

After the Las Vegas attack, a crew of bomb experts was sent out to defuse the dud drop-canisters scattered about the FreeZone. Inside one of th' canisters, they were surprised to find a handwritten journal, in English, that had been hidden away inside th' workings of the canister. 

Th' journal said that th' author, a FreeZone soldier, was aboard the Super Raider, which th' GeoAsians called th' "Celestial Orb". This American had befriended th' ship's Captain months ago while livin' undercover in Prime City. This was th' same soldier that had smuggled out the visuascreen plates of th' Super Raider under construction out of that city. 

The Super Raider's Captain was also th' man who perfected the Cold Light field. He was a member of th' Reversalist Collective, an' was real eager to see th' Emperor dethroned. This captain wished to defect to th' Confederation side, at least long enough to deliver the Super Raider into American hands ! 

But th' best thing wasn't this big Christmas present bein' brought to us, free 'n clear, so's we can turn it around an' use it against th' Dorans. What got me excited was the' signature at th' bottom of th' battered journal the Officer had brought us. How that big palooka was passin' for one 'a those cave-coolies was beyond me, but I was just barely able to make out th' tiny, almost child-like scrawl of : Captain Derek Jons ! 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

III. Ace In The Hole 
  
  

From The Journal Of Captain Derek Jons, UFC : 
  
  

" I have no way of knowing if my first journal was discovered in the disarmed dropcanister. I pray that it was, for two reasons : 

" The Confederation has to be made aware by our plans for the "Celestial Orb". Preparations must be made, for we may need help if our plan is discovered prematurely. 

" In addition, I hope that someone will inform my dear Tegan and Zech that I am alive. It was necessary for my death to be faked in order to enable me to travel to Prime City and infiltrate the Doran. 

" I was ordered by the Confederation Council to make contact with a Doran Captain known for his kindness to American 

slaves, in hopes that he may be sympathetic to the Confederation. The events within the Empire these past several months only served to make my assignment easier. The Captain, who's name is Marl-Joom, turned out to be one of the highest ranking members of the Reservist Collective, as well as a man of some high standing within the Empire. 

" Once I gained entrance onto the City through an abandoned waste chute, I made contact with American freedom fighters living in the slave district. They brought me to Captain Joom's household, where, upon meeting him, I was impressed with his gentle nature and thoughtful grace. It was difficult sometimes, as the weeks went by and I interacted with Joom and the Reversists who came to visit him, to think of some of them as the soulless creatures I ultimately knew them to be. 

" When orders came down from the Emperor that all American slaves were to be executed, Captain Joom, at great risk to his own life, saved my life as well as the lives of his other house slaves by secreting us away on some rural property on the outskirts of Prime. 

" Later, when construction of the "Celestial Orb" was nearing completion, Joom was able to arrange a false identity for me as his First Officer. My size was a problem, causing many second looks and suspicious stares. Tall Dorans are not common, but they do exist. Thanks to my advanced training in GeoAsian languages, I was able to speak to them fluently in their native tongue. An excellent surgical alteration to my features, provided by a Reversist doctor, usually convinced any wary Doran that I was the genuine article. 

" Captain Joom's unquestionable loyalty to the Empire and personal high standing with the Emperor himself allowed him many privileges, such as a hand-picked First Officer. The Emperor knew that the secret of the perfected Cold Light system was held exclusively within Marl Joom's brain, so all possible concessions to to the Captain's will had to be made. Joom knew, of course, that once the secret had been tested and committed to paper, he will have out lived his usefulness to the Empire and his own life could easily be forfeit. 
  
  

*** 
  
  

" The "Celestial Orb" was launched in secret just hours ago under tight security. The Dorans were careful not to make a single public mention of their super weapon until it had successfully traveled from coast to coast, obliterating as many FreeZones as possible between those two points. That was the most difficult part for me. The Captain and I did our best to restrain the crew from completely destroying the Las Vegas FreeZone and killing everyone in it, so great was their enthusiasm for murder and destruction. We were able to drop many explosive canisters, but the majority of them were strangely defective, and did not detonate. This caused some minor grumbling among the Doran men, but the Captain was able to silence them by ridiculing the quality of the explosives made by the Dorans themselves, as opposed to the ones made by slaves before the Emperor's edict. 
  
  

" I write this journal in secret in my private cabin, and always keep this tiny notebook on my person at all times. The Captain is my friend, but sometimes I have to shut myself away from those inhuman monsters called the crew of the "Celestial Orb". Being forced to wear the tinted goggles as part of my disguise usually means I end my duty shift on the bridge with a terrific headache. I try to sleep, but their oily, goggled faces invade my dreams, grinning at me with pointed teeth sharpened to razor-keenness and suspicion in their slited eyes. I feel like a sacrificial lamb caged up with a pack of hungry wolves. I miss my wife and child immensely, and long for the day, hopefully soon, when I can be reunited with them. I pray that my friend Hawk has kept his word to me, and is looking out for them as he promised. 

" The Captain and I hope to arrange some sort of "accident" that will force the crew to evacuate the "Celestial Orb" before the next FreeZone comes into their eager sights. 
  
  

*** 
  
  

" It is mid-day. I do not know the date, or day of the week, for the Dorans measure time differently and I long ago lost track of the FreeZone date. 

Our ruse was a success. As per our prearranged plan, the Captain manned the bridge, calling his engineering team up from the bowels of the ship for a meeting to discuss the maintenance schedule. Then he sent them out to the gunning catwalks to physically inspect each one of the Cold Light lamps. This allowed me ample time to get to the deserted engineering section and disable a vital reactor venting valve that was mounted on the anti-gravity generators. 

" Not long after, both the Captain and I were on the bridge and the engineering team were back at their posts when the warning  claxon went off. A frantic message from engineering informed the bridge that the anti-gravity vent valve was fused and a dangerous overload was in progress. There was no hope of repair without a replacement part. 

" What the crew did not know was that I had a replacement valve in my quarters, and once the crew was gone it would be a simple matter to replace the sabotaged part with the new one. I had targeted this particular valve for tampering because it was a common, usually dependable component that was not carried in ship's stores, because they never failed. We could not operate without the vent valve, and since the anti-gravity generator was overloading in-flight, it could not, of course, be turned off in-flight. Therefore it was an inarguable necessity to evacuate the "Celestial Orb" because we could not land. 

" Captain Joom gave a wonderful performance for the benefit of the bridge crew. He showed great concern for his valiant men, ordering an immediate evacuation of the ship, volunteering himself and his First Officer to stay behind. The Emperor's Crowning Achievement must not be allowed to fall into enemy hands  We would sacrifice our lives, he told them, by keeping the "Celestial Orb" in the air until it exploded into a million fragments. It did not take a lot of haggling to convince the frightened crew that this was the best possible course of action. By this time poisonous plasma gas was venting into the ship's air ducts on the lower levels, so this served to hasten the crew's departure.  Within minutes the Captain was smiling triumphantly at me across the empty bridge of the completely deserted "Celestial Orb", as we watched the manned life pods float down gently into the wilderness. 

" Once the overloading generator was repaired with the shinny new control valve, the Captain and I put the "Celestial Orb" on Automatic Pilot and went to the drop-canister bay. We properly armed  a load of drop-canisters with shortened automatic timers and dropped the whole load into the wake of the ship, creating a tremendous mid-air explosion large enough for the stranded crew to see, even from miles away. We knew that once back in Prime City, they would report to their superiors that the heroic Captain and First Officer had properly disposed of the defective ship. 

" Our invisibility shield was working perfectly, so there would be no evidence to prove otherwise. 
  
  

*** 
  
  

" It wasn't until we had reached the half-way point in our cross-country dash for freedom that we discovered that we had a real saboteur aboard. Joom and I returned to the bridge to discover that the visuatyper was "on". Knowing that neither one of us had used it, and that it had been "off" when we went below, we began to suspect that someone else was aboard, most likely one of the crew. This person had used the language ticker's keys to contact someone, most likely the Doran city we had just passed within range of a few minutes before. If our assumptions were true this could mean serious trouble for us. 

" Just then Captain Joom happened to glance out the starboard portal and I saw his normally stone-like expression change to one of horror. He called me over to look. I saw a long thick, pitch-black line of exhaust extending from the rear of the ship- we were leaving a very visible smoke trail ! 

" I moved quickly to the rear of the engine section to see what was the matter, while Captain Joom guarded the bridge against our mysterious guest. I discovered the rear-most engine compartment, which opened to the back of the ship's huge thrust engines, clogged with the same thick, choking black smoke. 

" Feeling my way across the compartment through the impenetrable blackness, a by-touch examination of the huge exhaust cones revieled a very low-brow form of tampering : the exhaust ports had been stuffed with large amounts of some sort of canvas material, and the extreme heat produced by the engines had eventually caused the canvas to smoke and finally catch fire. 

" After several frantic minutes with a chemical fire repellant designed for just such a fire, the flames were squelched and the smoke trail disappeared. But it may have already been too late. How long did we trail smoke before the Captain discovered it ? Several hundred miles, surely. Long enough, if the saboteur had contacted the Doran city and told them to look for the trail. It was only a matter of time, I reasoned, before possibly dozens of Death Barges came screaming after us. Unfortunately, The Dorans had a device capable of tracking the energy emissions of their own Cold Light system, given a reasonably limited area to search. This was a concession the Emperor insisted upon, and Captain Joom agreed upon simply to deflect the GeoAsian predilection for instant suspicion. Joom had designed and built this tracking device for the Emperor for the sake of his greater purpose. 

"I was preparing to secure the engine compartment and thoroughly search the ship for our hidden enemy, when I suddenly heard a startled cry echo through the cavernous hull. I bolted down the corridor and up the stairway, making my way back to the bridge-the source of the cry-as fast as my large frame could maneuver the narrow doorways. 

"I found Captain Jooms on the bridge, lying on his side in a pool of his own blood, moaning and gasping for breath. When I rolled him over I discovered a large ornamental dagger protruding from his bleeding mid-section. He was still alive, but it looked bad for him. 

" 'Derek,...my friend.', he managed to gurgle at me in fair English. ' I have been...struck down,...by the left hand of the Collective. '  He lapsed into unconsciousness as I puzzled over his cryptic words. What did he mean ? 

" I took Captain Joom to his quarters and carefully removed the dagger. I could discern by its markings that it was a ceremonial knife used by members of the Reversist Collective in their secret meetings. What could 'struck down by the left hand of the Collective' mean ? Was the saboteur left-handed ? Was he a Reversist also ? 

As I dressed the Captain's wounds the answer occurred to me. the Reversist Collective was now a large, open movement, almost outnumbering those Dorans who wished to remain on the surface. What if there were now different factions within the same Collective, developing opposing views about how this return to their underground home should be carried out ? I knew from my time undercover as a slave in Joom's household that there were often heated arguments among the Collective's various leaders on this very subject. I knew that some of these leaders called for the violent, destructive overthrowing of the Empire through any and all means necessary. Perhaps, I decided, there was a faction, or maybe even just a single crazed zealot, who would rather see the "Celestial Orb" destroyed instead of delivered to the Americans, and the Captain dead rather than allowed to the return to the Empire. 

" The Captain was still unconscious, so I left him in his quarters, careful to lock the door behind me for his safety. I needed to return to the bridge before the saboteur could strike at some vital piece of equipment there. 

" I am in dire straits. I am alone, or very nearly, on this huge, invisible mammoth of a vessel, streaking toward the Syracuse FreeZone on Automatic Pilot. There is a hidden saboteur and would-be assassin aboard. I was soon to have a fleet of Doran Death Barges on my tail, and if Captain Joom died from his wounds, I would loose a good friend, and the Confederation would loose the secret of Cold Light. 
  
  

*** 
  
  

" I have one chance. If  I could manage to contact one of the FreeZones in our path with the Doran Visuatyper, I could  get some kind of Confederation interception force to fly out and meet the pursuing Doran force, and provide a safe escort into friendly territory. 

" With renewed hope I composed the following message : 

" Captain Jons Here. Position 25.3 * 47.6 * 7Hr. * 14Mn * . Coming In At 300YT . Rendezvous At Position ^+ 21.1 Out Of  Base FreeZone In 20Hr. Saboteur Onboard. Captain Injured. Death Barges In Pursuit Soon. Be Ready. " 
  
  
  
  

IV. Flight To Freedom 
  
  
  
  

           We received the Visuatype message from Derek about a half-day after it had been sent. It had been delayed while it was bein' translated by th' Intelligence boys, an' then further delayed while it was bein' relayed to us from th' Little Rock FreeZone. That left us less than a day to get ready for what would probably be a big  scrap with th' Dorans over th' Super Raider. Cooper's staff went into high gear, callin' th' Syracuse FreeZone for as much help as they could muster. 

But in all of that flurry of activity, no one seemed concerned with tellin' Tegan that she wasn't really a widow. I talked with Cooper an' we decided that it would be by job to fill her in. 
  
  

 "Hawk, that's the most incredible thing I've ever heard ! How can it be true ?" 

Tegan had been called to Commander Cooper's office so she could be informed of the good news. I had managed t' convince Cooper to tell Tegan everythin' we'd discovered about Derek. He had seemed t' me to be strangely unmoved by th' discovery  of th' journal. Then I realized what th' reason musta been. Now I was point man outside his office door. 

"It's true, baby. Your hubby's been livin' among those Dorans for the past several months. He didn't die at his guard post. Didn't it seem funny t' you that  he didn't use his proton gun on those wild animals that attacked him ?", I asked her. I was tryin' to keep her from chargin' into Cooper's office with a full head of steam an' maybe forgetting her lower rank. 

Now she stopped in the middle of her little tirade to consider what I'd said. 

"Yes, but - I didn't doubt the outcome of it. You said you'd seen the evidence. So did the Commander. I had no reason to doubt what I'd been told." 

I shook my head.  "I didn't either. I think that was th' point. This was a secret mission straight from th' Council. Just try 'n remember that it was orders, baby." 

She didn't say anythin', but turned to th' door, an' went in to Cooper's office. 
  
  
  
  

Like I said before, Tegan was a professional soldier. She kept her cool. Any woman of my day would've went on a cryin', screamin' jag in some of situations I've seen her meet dead-on without even so much as a flinch. 

After a few soldierly formalities, th' briefing began. Cooper informed Tegan that he had known about Derek's secret mission all along. He had picked Derek for th' mission himself. Th' Confederation Council had contacted th' Commander directly lookin' for th' best soldier for th' job. They needed a soldier who could disappear quietly and hike 'cross country with only his two feet an' a Null-G harness for transportation, avoidin' wild animals, renegades an' GeoAsian territory. If this soldier managed t' survive that, he would still meet up with all sorts of obstacles once inside Prime City. It would've been a miracle if th' mission was successful on any level. Only a man of incredible determination an' stamina could've succeeded at all. Cooper had told 'em that the  soldier they wanted was Captain Derek Jons. 

"We're sorry it had to be done this way, Lieutenant. The entire Confederation owes your family a debt of gratitude." , Cooper told Tegan. 

"Thank you, Commander.", Tegan answered curtly, then added dryly, "I'm sure that gratitude will go a long way toward easing Zech's emotional trauma." 

Cooper didn't answer her little jab of sarcasm. I think he knew that  her slight insubordination grew out of her love for her child. He cleared his throat slightly an' pretended to be lookin' at th' papers on his desk. After a respectful minute, he continued. 

"I'm sure Hawk has informed you of Captain Jon's situation aboard the "Celestial Orb". She's coming our way at full speed, probably bringing a fleet of Doran Death Barges with her. I've already radioed Syracuse for reinforcements. They're sending twenty units of ground troops and forty squadrons of flyers to help us take the "Orb" into protective custody. There should be quite a firefight going on by the this time tomorrow, and our FreeZone will be ground zero." 

Tegan spoke up.  "Begging your pardon, Commander. What about Derek ? He may not even make it this far alive with a hidden killer aboard. We've got to do something to help him." 

"Yeah, I'm all for that myself.", I said. 

Cooper shook his head in agreement.  "That's part of the reason you're here, Lieutenant. We've got a plan to send a team in a flyer out to meet the "Celestial Orb" in-flight and help Captain Jons bring her in. "  The Commander smiled slyly.     " Do I have any volunteers ?" 

"Yes !", we both answered quickly. 
  
  

That night we prepared for our mission. Cooper's plan was risky. The "Orb" would be sent a set of instructions an' coordinates via Visuatyper to meet us at a point six hours out of th' Pittsburgh FreeZone. Since th' message would have to be sent by th' Doran contraption, a Confederation code known to Derek,and hopefully not known to th' Dorans, would have to be used. Derek could not risk makin' th' Super Raider visible so's we could find it, 'cause that would make it easier for the Death Barges t' find it too. Tegan an' me would have to fly out to th' meetin' point an' circle in a holdin' pattern until th' "Orb" made itself known to us. Even with all th' prearranged plans I knew it would be like lookin' for a invisible needle in a hay stack, 'specially in th' pre-dawn dark. 

As soon as Cooper's staff finalized their plans, th' message was written an' sent out across all th' FreeZones an' all th' relay stations between here an' th' suspected position of th' "Orb". Th' coded message read: 
  
  

"Rendezvous At ^+18.5 In 

14Hr * At Position 6.4 * 12.9 * 

Hold Position And Signal When 

Ready. Hawk And Dove." 
  
  
  
  

Th' Hawk an' Dove part at th' end was my idea, a way t' let th' big palooka know that it was me an' his little love bird coming to his rescue. I figured he needed somethin' to help raise his spirits. 

While we was gettin' ready at th' aerodrome I found out from some other soldiers at th' field that Lieutenant Tegan Jons just happened to be th' best darn FreeZone pilot on this side of th' country. That made me feel a little better 'bout goin' up in a propellerless crate with half th' guts ripped outta it to make room fer a large bomb an' a Doran Visuatyper. 

They gave me my own Null-G harness an' the Proton Gun I always wanted, fer my own protection they told me, in case we was shot down. Tegan had let me train at th' firing range with her gun awhile back, an' I really fell in love with this beauty of a weapon. 

Th' Proton Gun had three power settings :  Th' lowest, disrupt, just knocked th' target, providin' it was livin', unconscious. This was th' setting Tegan used on me that first day I met her. Th' medium setting was affect, which burned a hole in a target, livin' or not. Th' highest setting was disintegrate, which is pretty self-explanatory. Yeah, I was gonna have fun with this baby! I decided to name it Matilda, after my sweet mother. I put Matilda in th' shoulder holster formerly occupied by Sweet Sue. I kept Sweet Sue in my quarters now, fer sentimental reasons. Since th' Americans didn't use gun powder anymore, th' old Colt was just a useless paperweight. 

I was also wearin' a Radiophone cap just like Tegan's, but Cooper had ordered us to keep radio silence unless it was absolutely necessary to break it. 

Tegan an' me bundled up against th' cold in special insulated suits, carefully adjusting our Null-G harnesses in case we had t' bail outta th' flyer for any reason. At Tegan's nagging insistence we checked an' double-checked everything, then we were ready to take off. 

As Tegan sat in th' pilot's seat in front of me an' began preparing to take us up, I realized that what I thought had been th' adventure of my life so far was really just gettin' started. The little flyer began to hum an' vibrate slightly as the anti-gravity drive was switched on, an' before I knew it we was airborne an' zippin' away from th' FreeZone into th' waiting night. 
  
  

We saw two Death Barge on our way to meet th' Super Raider. luckily,they didn't spot us. With th' first one, we managed to drop altitude in time, coming to a gentle rest on th' forest floor until it passed. I got my first real good look at th' thing as it roared over our heads. 

Th' term "Barge" was an accurate one. It was gliding at a leisurely pace in a north-south direction about fifty feet above th' treetops, shakin' things up as it went so that leaves an' limbs started rainin' down on us from above. Th' thing was long an' wide, but thick an' flattened a little. It looked kinda like a big metal cigar, about a hundred feet long if it was an inch. A pair of running lights was set along  th' bottom about every ten feet. A single row of windows ran all around th' length of the thing. 

Tegan was pointing at th' large oval openings set into th' front an' back of th'  Barge. I couldn't hear what she was sayin' over the throbbing racket of th' thing, but I guessed she was pointing out th' Heat Ray projectors I'd heard so much about. After it passed we took to th' air again an' continued on toward th' rendezvous point. 

About an hour later we spotted another one, an' had to repeat our duck an' cover maneuver until it had passed also. This second barge was traveling east to west. 

It would've been a easy matter to communicate if we could have used our Radiaphones, but our orders meant that we had to do it th' old-fashioned way, so I tapped Tegan on th' shoulder to get her attention.  "They must be searchin' for th' "Celestial Orb" in some kinda grid pattern.", I said as we continued on our way again.  "Do you think they can track her somehow?" 

"I would think that they would be able to track their own ship, don't you ?", she replied, shoutin' over th' howl of th' wind around us. 

After a couple more hours of takin' in miles an' miles of beautiful American scenery, I noticed that we had started slowin' down. We stopped in mid-air over a unremarkable hill, an' I saw Tegan switch th' flyer into th' "hover" settin'. 

It was like we just parked in mid-air. 

 "Are we there yet ?" , I asked. It was a little joke. 

Tegan checked her time piece an' nodded.  "Give the signal !" , she shouted over her shoulder at me. 

That was my cue. Th' bulky Doran Visuatyper was wedged in th' tiny space between my legs an' th' back of Tegan's seat because it was my job to operate it. Th' keys were in th' GeoAsian alphabet, of course, but Dunbar had clearly marked an' numbered th' keys I would need t' punch out th' single-word message. As I struck th' letters they appeared on th' device's visuascreen : 
  
  

"??????" 
  
  

which, in coded English, means : 
  
  

          "READY" 
  
  
  
  

I then flipped th' toggle that sent th' message out into th' empty air as we sat at th' point where th' "Celestial Orb" was supposed t' be. 

After about fifteen minutes I was beginning to have my doubts about th' whole cock-eyed plan when, outta th' blue we heard th' loud screech an' groan of metal against metal just below us. We both looked over th' side of th' flyer at th' same time to see a three foot wide circular hole open up in th' sky directly below us ! After takin' a minute to make sure our eyes was workin' right, we looked down into the openin' an' realized we was lookin' down into th' "Celestial Orb" through a hatch that had been thrown open for us ! Th' rest 'a th' outside of th' ship remained completely invisible. It was fantastic! 

Since Tegan had to pilot th' flyer as a escort it was up to me to board the Raider an' help Derek track down that chink. I checked Matilda an' my Null-G harness one more time, then I started to climb over th' side of th' flyer. suddenly, I felt Tegan touch my shoulder. I turned to look into a set of deep green eyes full of love an' concern for me. 

"Be careful, Hawk. Give Derek my love.", she said softly. 

I patted her little gloved hand an' smiled.  "Sure thing, kid." 

I gotta say here that jumpin' outta planes is not my favorite thing to do. Tegan managed to hold th' flyer as steady as a rock directly over th' hatch. I was pretty sure of my target, even though I couldn't exactly see most of it. I activated th' Null-G field an' pushed my body out an' away from th' flyer. 

I had had some practice with Null-G with th' help of Tegan an' Dunbar, but I was still not used to th' sensation of weightlessness. I just hung in mid-air while I fumbled with th' control buckle. With a gentle press of the right button, th' air jets gave a short burst upward, sendin' me slowly downward toward th' open hatch that hung eerily in open space. I almost panicked when I had t' give another short jet burst starboard to adjust my aim, but finally I was right on target. I eased right down into th' Raider's open hatch an pretty soon I could feel th' hard deckplates of th' "Orb" under my feet. Even in th' gloom of th' Raider's interior I could see Derek standin' right in front of me. 

Derek grabbed me by th' shoulders an' shook me excitedly.  "Bear Killer ! How are you my friend ?", he boomed in that deep baritone of his. Then he moved to peer out th' open hatch over our heads.  "Is that my Tegan piloting the flyer ? I must talk with her !"   He started climbing th' ladder leadin' to th' top of th' hatch. 

I reached out an' grabbed 'him by one of his huge arms.   "Derek, don't we have more pressin' problems right now ?", I said, hopin' to keep him focused. 

He stopped in mid-climb. 

" I know you miss your wife, but hey, you can have th' rest of your lives together after we land this tub in Pittsburg." 

He seemed t' consider it fer a second, then reluctantly hopped down from th' ladder.  "You are right, Hawk. Let's get this over with". , he said mournfully. He gave one last longing look in th' direction of th' open hatch, then led me down into th' rest of th' ship. 
  
  

While Derek was away from th' bridge th' Doran assassin had taken th' opportunity for more treachery. 

Derek made a quick check on th' Doran Captain, who was sleeping peacefully, then we headed to th' bridge. About halfway there my keen hearin' picked up th' faint sound of a Visuatyper's keys bein' struck. After a second Derek heard it too. We both stopped just outside th' open bridge doorway to listen. Our ears weren't foolin' us. Someone was in there. 

We quietly moved closer to th' door then ducked outta our visitor's line of sight by pressin' our backs on either side of th' doorway. From our hidin' places we carefully peered into th' room to see a stooped Doran soldier hunched over th' Visuatyper. He was steadily clickin' away on th' device, no doubt informin' th' Death Barges of our exact position! 

I reached for my shoulder holster to draw Matilda, but Derek suddenly gave me a quick negative shake of his head. I saw his mouth silently form th' words the equipment an' too dangerous. I took that to mean that if I missed th' Doran, even by a hair, my stray shot could accidentally destroy an important piece of equipment. Instead he motioned for me to sneak in on th' left while he charged in at th' Doran's right. He reached up an' ripped a large button off his uniform tunic, indicating to me he intended to toss it across th' bridge to distract th' Doran. I signaled to him that I was ready. 

It was all over in a flash. Derek gave th' button a mighty over-handed toss. It struck the window at th' front'a th' bridge, an' when th' Doran looked up for th' source of th' noise Derek rushed at him in a flying tackle. As Derek struggled to hold him th' Doran yelled out what could only be a curse of utter surprise. I quickly moved around th' length of th' bridge an' came to stare face t' face with th' Doran, gettin' ready to slug him. Somehow, th' little weasel managed to slip outta Derek's grasp an' was suddenly coming toward   me ! He was closing in, chatterin' away at me in a strange sing-song language, when I caught a glimpse of th' gleam of a wicked blade arcing through th' air between us. I side-stepped just in time, an' th' knife hissed past my left ear as th' mad Doran slammed into th' bulkhead behind me. I grabbed th' back of th' Doran's uniform an' jerked him with all my might, sendin' him reelin' toward th' front of th' bridge. Derek caught th' Doran in mid-spin an' gave him a tremendous shove with both powerful arms, an'  th' little cave coolie's feet left th' floor. He went flyin' across th' main control panel an' right through th' front window ! Chunks'a glass showered th' room an' we heard his scream of terror until his voice faded in th' distance. 

Derek an' me was tryin' to catch our breaths when I heard Tegan's voice shoutin' in my ear : 

"Hawk ! Are you alright ? Where's Derek ? Answer me ! Please !" 

I had forgotten I was wearin' th' Radiophone  Tegan must've panicked when she saw th' Doran's body fly outta th' ship an' plunge to th' forest floor a thousand feet below. I touched th' microphone an' spoke to her. 

"We're both okay, Tegan. whatcha saw flyin' out th' window was just some garbage we needed to dispose of." I saw that Derek was eager to get his hands on my Radiophone.  "Hold on a sec', I think there's someone here wantin' to talk to  'ya." 

I pulled off th' leather skullcap an' handed it to Derek, almost laughin' at th' sight of him tryin' to pull it down over his big head. He was grinning so wide I thought his head was gonna topple off at th' jaw. 

"Honeybunch, I love you !" , he gushed loudly into th' little microphone. He listened a second, then replied "I missed you too, so much my heart aches. I can't wait to hold you again." 

I could gather from th' end of th' conversation I was privy to that Tegan wasn't angry with Derek fer makin' everyone think he was dead. I was kinda embarrassed by all of his lovey-dovey talk, so I tried not to listen. 

" How is Zech ? I'll bet he's grown nearly a foot since last spring. I- "  Suddenly he fell silent, his grin fading as he listened closely. I got th' impression Tegan was givin' him some bad news. 

 "What is it, buddy ?" , I asked finally. 

He pulled th' cap from his head an' slowly pointed out th' broken window. 

"Trouble." , he said. 
  
  

We saw two Doran Death Barges on th' horizon to th' north-west an' north-east of us. Their course would intersect ours in a matter of minutes. From their angle an' speed we knew that they could track us. Th' Doran spy had succeeded in givin' away our position. Th' Appalachian Mountain range was passin' rapidly below us, so I knew we were almost at th' Pittsburgh FreeZone. I pulled on my Radiophone in time t' hear Tegan report that another Death Barge was comin' up on our rear from several miles away. This was gonna be it. The Big Stand-Off. 

We saw Tegan's flyer rushin' out to meet the two Death Barges comin' toward us. Derek was anxious about his wife's safety, but we both knew it would be no good tryin' to talk that head-strong gal out of attackin'. Her flyer was capable of flyin' rings around th' slower movin' Barges, an' she was armed with dual Proton rifles, but how much could one brave girl do before a Doran gunner got lucky an' blasted her outta th' sky ? 

I was askin' Derek if it wouldn't be a good idea to turn off th' Cold Light system  an' pilot th' "Orb" under manual control, since th' jig was up with th' Dorans, when a weak voice spoke up from behind us. 

"No, not yet." 

Startled, we both turned around to find th' Doran Captain swaying unsteadily in th' doorway. 

He looked terrible. I knew that th' GeoAsians normally had olive-colored complexions, but his was ash-gray. His bandaged mid-section oozed dark blood. He was leaning on a ornamental carved stick. 

Derek rushed to help his friend.       "You should not be here, Marl-Joom. Please go back to bed.", he scolded. 

Joom waved him away.  "No, my son. I must tell you something,...that may save all our lives." 

Unlike th' other Doran faces I'd seen, Jooms' was kind an' almost sage-like. He was bald, 'cept for a single long, jet-black braid that began at th' top of his head an' trailed down his back. He had what in my day was referred to as a Fu Manchu moustache an' beard. As I looked into his eyes behind th' tinted goggles he wore, I detected none of th' hate an' malice I'd seen in th' eyes of th' Doran saboteur. 

Joom titled his head in my direction to return my gaze, an' a brief smile overtook his pained expression.  "You must be the Bear-Killer, Hawk, yes ?", he asked.  "The ancient 'gangster'...Derek spoke of as his family's guardian ?" 

"Yes, Captain." , I answered respectfully.  "But th' gangster rep' is one I'm tryin' to shake." He smiled at me again an' gave a slight bow of acknowledgement, but I got th' feelin' he didn't really understand half of what I was sayin'. 

Aware that it was a waste of time tryin' to convince Joom to return to his quarters, Derek politely asked th' Captain to explain this new piece of information he had spoke of. Meanwhile, I saw th' Doran Death Barges in our path gettin' close enough to count th' number of windows set in their hulls. 

Joom began his explanation.  "I managed to deceive the Emperor once again when he had me design and build the tracking machines." He grimaced noticeably from a sudden spasm of pain, then continued.  "The nature of the Cold Light system creates a false echo as it distorts the visible spectrum. It is much like observing a goldfish in a shallow pool. If you reach in to grab it were you see it, you will come  up empty-handed. The reflection of the water fools your eyes. The goldfish is always a hairs-breadth to the left or right of where it appears to be. 

"I designed the Emperor's tacking devices to be susceptible to this distortion. The farther away the tracking device is from the active Cold Light shield, the more inaccurate the reading on the ship's actual position will be. Therefore, Derek, if you are a clever enough pilot, the Death Barge's weapons will always miss their target. The key is to not let them get close enough for a more accurate target lock." 

Derek said he would do his best. I had a lot of confidence in my pal's various skills, but unfortunately I knew that th' clever pilot in th' family was not onboard the "Celestial Orb". Right now, she was flyin' around th' lead Death Barge takin' potshots at it in a effort to buy us time. 

Joom showed me a contraption called a Magniviewer, which worked a lot like binoculars. After some minor adjustin' of th' focus to allow for human eyes I was able to use it to get a better view of Tegan in th' little flyer. That girl was a wildcat. I noticed several holes along th' Barge's hull that could only have come from Tegan's Proton rifles, an' th' deck gunners all along th' Barge's top hull were goin' crazy tryin' to get a bead on her as she barn-stormed th' length of their vessel. Just then I saw her toss th' one bomb she was carryin' into a open hatch on th' barge's top ! She peeled off in a step climb as fast as th' little flyer would go, an' two seconds later th' sky lit up with a spectacular explosion. I quickly dimmed th' viewer's controls in time to see flamin'  metal scraps and flamin' Doran soldiers sailin' through th' air in all directions as th' Death Barge was blasted to Kingdom Come. By chance, as my eyes were followin' th' downward path of the debris, they happened to fall on what I knew to be the outerlyin' relay tower of th' Pitsburg FreeZone poking out from among a dense grove of trees. We were almost home. 

Derek gave a enthusiastic holler at Tegan's fireworks display, then searched the skys with frantic, unaided eyes for the little flyer. I found it first. Tegan was now buzzin' around th' second Barge like a pesky fly, pickin' off th' Doran gunners positioned on th' roof one by one. They tried to get her with those big Disrupter cannons they manned, but weren't havin' much luck. Suddenly, th' Barge's forward Heat Ray started playin' across the sky. Apparently th' Death Barge's Captain had ordered it activated in a desperate hope that Tegan would accidentally fly into its path. Trouble was, as th' distance closed between our two ships there was a good chance th' Heat Ray would hit us instead. 

? Captain Joom indicated to Derek that it was indeed time to pilot the "Celestial Orb" himself. Shutting off th' Automatic Pilot, Derek took th' wheel and, followin' Joom's directions, began flyin' th' Raider in sort of a restrained zig-zag pattern. Th' Barge must've been confident of it's lock on our position 'cause it's forward Heat Ray started beamin' th' air in our direction. Th' sound of th' deadly pink-hued beam traveled through th' broken front window as it raked th' sky mere feet from th' ship's hull: 
  
  

SSSCER-RRRAAKKK ! 
  
  
  
  

Just then, a second Heat Ray cut through th' air over th' Raider, this one comin' from behind. Th' Death Barge on our tail was firin' at us too ! 
  
  
  
  

SSSCER-RRRAAKKK ! 

SSSCER-RRRAAKKK ! 
  
  
  
  

There was entirely too much flack in th' air for my liking  I asked Captain Joom if there was anythin' I could do to fight back. Joom was about to reply when Tegan's voice on th' Radiophone nearly shattered my eardrum: 

" Hawk ! The Air Squadrons are here ! We made it ! ", she shouted. 

Her voice had been  loud enough for Derek to hear as I stood at his left arm. Joom couldn't hear it, of course, but all  three of us could see th' sky ahead of us an' around th' forward Death Barge suddenly fill up with hundreds of FreeZone flyers ! 

Joom gave a little cry of jubilation an' started  rapping excitedly on the console with his stick.  "Derek, it is time ! Disengage the Cold Light System ! Hawk, come with me. We must man the  weapons !" 
  
  
  
  

I would've liked to have been a little bird in th' sky outside when th' "Celestial Orb" suddenly appeared outta thin air right in th' middle of all those flyers an' th' two remainin' Death Barges. Th' air was thick with th' FreeZone Air Squadrons. Th' Death Barge directly in front of us looked like it was under attack by a swarm of angry bees. More flyers zipped past th' "Orb" to take on th' Barge at our rear flank. Th' beams from th' Barge's Heat rays an' th' flyers' Proton blasts cris-crossed in th' sky like some kinda colorful tic-tac-toe grid. 

Joom an' me went to th' weapons console situated on th' bridge's port side. He showed me how to power up the Heat Cannon batteries an' target th' Barges. One set of controls fired th' forward cannons an' th' other set fired th' rear cannons. I was stationed at th' forward set. Joom, though still very weak, seemed revitalized with energy as he operated th' rear cannons. 

At this point in th' firefight our position was almost directly over th' Pittsburgh FreeZone. We were too busy t' think much about it at th' time, but we knew that occasionally th' Barge's Heat Ray must've been raking across th' camp below us. Fire an' smoke billowed out from among th' canopy of trees in several places. What we didn't know at th' time an' only found out later was that while th' battle raged overhead our home camp was also under attack by hundreds of Doran ground troops armed with swords an' portable Heat Cannons. Everyone in th' FreeZone who was a soldier was involved in th' battle, th' children an' elderly having been evacuated to safety below ground th' day before. 

There was a lot of death an' destruction among th' strong-willed an' hearty Americans. Every FreeZone soldier saw this fight as th' first major battle in th' long War for Independence to come. They all knew that th' outcome would affect the morale of th' United FreeZone Confederation for a long time to come. 
  
  
  
  

Th' air battle raged on, some of th' details of which I was able to relay to Derek an' Joom as th' reports came over my Radiophone. One Air Squadron, led by Tegan, decided as a group to ram their flyers straight into the Doran Death Barge. Using their Null-G harnesses, they would bail out scant seconds before impact. 

As fifteen flyers lined up in formation an' headed full speed at th' front of th' Barge, Tegan's voice, full of brave determination, spoke into my ear by way of th' Radiophone : 

"Hawk, if I don't make it, tell Derek and Zech that I love them with all my  heart !" 

As I watched from my weapons controls, th' Heat Cannons momentarily forgotten, I saw th' pilots bail out of their speedin' flyers. Horrified, I saw three or four of 'em fall right into th' path of th' Barge's Heat Ray an' vanish from sight, their bodies instantly vaporized into nothingness. 

A split-second later th' empty flyers struck th' front of th' Barge, an' th' entire ship began to crumple an' break up in a chain reaction of brilliant explosions. I held my breath as huge chunks of th' hull rained down on th' FreeZone below. 

I didn't mention to Derek that Tegan was th' one leading th' collision squadron until I could make sure she was okay. As we all watched in stunned silence I waited for Tegan t' report from th' ground.. After what seemed like forever, her voice came to me : 

"Hawk, we're alright. I lost four Air Soldiers total. We're continuing the fight on the ground. Wish me luck." 
  
  
  
  

One Death Barge remained, an' all our fire power was now bein' directed at it. Joom managed to score a hit with th' "Orb"'s rear Heat Cannon, causing a huge section of th' hull on th' Barge's port side to bubble an' run like melted butter. The  Barge began  to list a little to it's starboard side. 

One thing that struck me was th' eerie quiet of th' twenty-fifth century weapons. Except for th' explosion of th' first Barge an' th' occasional screech of tearing metal as th' "Orb"'s Heat Cannons fell on th' remaining Barge, th' pitch battle was pretty easy on th' ears. Th' only noise I really heard was not th' sound of th' weapons themselves, but th' sound of empty vacuum bein' created as air molecules were vaporized outta existence. I imagined th' battle bein' fought on th' ground was more like what I had experienced during th' Great War. I didn't envy Tegan or th' ground soldiers at all. 
  
  
  
  

Finally, th' air battle was over. Th' FreezZone had succeeded in defendin' th' "Celestial Orb". 

Th' Death Barge was on it's last legs, so t' speak. Between th' steady Proton Beam barrage from th' Air Squadrons an' th' crippling blow delt it by Joom's Heat Cannon, th' enemy craft was heavily damaged, on fire, an' was loosin' altitude fast. More an' more of th' flyers broke off their attack as th' Barge fell in a steep dive an' went out of sight behind a thick grove of trees beyond th' FreeZone's eastern border. We could hear that big monster of a ship plowing through acres of trees before it  unceremoniously broke up an' was scattered across th' rough terrain by the force of it's own momentum.  Th' "Orb" survived with only minimum damage to its rear rudder, were it had been barely nicked by th' pursuing Barge's Heat Beam at th' height of th' battle. There were also small holes here an' there along th' hull made by a couple of lucky Doran deck gunners. We also suffered one broken Cold Light lamp which Joom assured us could be easily repaired. 

After checkin' th' overall condition of th' ship me an' Derek finally convinced th' Captain to return to bed. He was too valuable to th' Confederation, we told him, for us to allow him to remain on his feet in th' condition he was in. 

Tegan informed me over th' Radiophone that th' Doran ground force was bein' mopped up after a protracted, bloody ground battle. Derek didn't need to insist for me to ask about her condition. She reported a slight shoulder wound an' a twisted ankle from what she called a   " sloppy " Null-G landin'. In typical Tegan fashion she made light of her own injuries, informin' me instead of th' shape of the FreeZone. 

Dozen of good soldiers were dead or wounded includin', we were saddened to hear, Commander Cooper. He had been killed by a stray chunk'a Barge while overseein' th' evacuation of his wounded men. 

Hundreds of Doran corpses littered th' FreeZone, hundreds more were bein' taken prisoner. Questioning reveiled that they had been deployed from th' first two Death Barges outside th' eastern border before their ships had flown out to engage th' "Orb". Thankfully none had made it far enough into th' camp to reach th' civilians in th' underground tunnels. 

Now th' soldiers were sweeping th' camp for any stray Dorans that might be hidden in abandoned tents an' buildings. Other troops were on th' camp's west side fightin' a blaze touched off by th' Doran Heat Ray. Th' fires were becomin' easier for us to see from the Raider as dusk began to fall across th' forest. Of all th' images from that day, I'll always remember that one th' most. 

I let Derek use th' Radiophone so Tegan could reassure him that she was alright, then with a big grin my friend steered th' Super Raider out of it's circular holding pattern an began th' maneuvers that would take us in for a smooth landing, an' home. 
  
  
  
  
  
  

Epilogue 
  
  

Th' American-Doran War had only just begun, but for a time at least all was peaceful in our little neck of th' woods. Th' first order of business from th' FreeZone's new Commander, Captain Derek Jons, was th' cleanup an' rebuilding of th' camp. All th' Doran wreckage was collected an' dumped at th'site of th' crashed Death Barge outside th' camp. Soldiers from surrounding FreeZones even showed up to help raise th' new buildings, an' within a week life had almost returned to normal for th' Americans. 

Commander Cooper was buried in a hero's grave complete with historical marker at th' sight of his death. He was a fine man who had been th' first to give me a chance to prove myself , an' I would always be grateful to him for that. 

A huge awards ceremony was thrown by th' collective FreeZone leaders, with th' President an' th' entire Confederation Council on hand to give out medals of Valor to Derek, Tegan, me, an' posthumously, Commander Cooper. Even Zech got one, for "Bravery In The Face Of  A Bear", but me an' Tegan knew it was really th' Council's way of apologizing for depriving th' little guy of his father for so long. 

Th' "Celestial Orb" was given a good going over by th' Council members, then it was flown to Syracuse an' turned over to their science team for detailed study. 

Captain Joom recovered from th' dagger wound an' became th' newest member of Derek's advisory staff. He spent part of his days in Syracuse workin' with th' eggheads there tryin' to find a way to apply th' Cold Light system to FreeZone ships. Th' rest of his time was spent in our camp, teachin' people about th' ways an' customs of th' GeoAsians. 

It was difficult at first for th' Doran Captain to win th' trust an' respect of th' Americans. They were taught from birth that all GeoAsians were enemies bent on wiping them out. But with mine an' Derek's help we were able to convince a lot of people that maybe not all Dorans were evil. Joom deserved a fresh start, like I had had. In time everyone would come to be impressed by his gentle nature an' kindly manner. 

After th' "Celestial Orb" fiasco th' Doran Emperor's throne was put in even greater peril. His own court had been infiltrated by th' Reversist Collective an' two attempts against his life were made in th' space of a few days. Dunbar an' his Intelligence boys had to work over-time just to keep up with all th' news of plots an' counter-plots reported over our Doran Visuatyper. Derek was able to hint to me that once Cold Light was adapted to FreeZone flyers an' some larger attack ships still on' th' drawing boards, th' Council was ready to launch an enormous attack against Prime City itself. 
  
  

Toward th' end of November th' FreeZone citizens began makin' preparations for some sort of annual festival. Pic-nic tables an' grills were set up in' th' center of camp as tons of food was prepared by th' families. Derek asked me to sit with him an' Tegan An' Zech at th' feast as part of their family. 

Tegan explained to me that th' festival was a very ancient American holiday first celebrated by our country's founders nearly a thousand years ago. It had been revived near th' end of th' twenty-third century once th' Americans began to live in large groups again an' regain a sense of community. When she mentioned turkey an' corn on th' cob I realized she was talkin' about Thanksgiving ! 

As I seated myself between Derek an' Tegan an' held their hands in a prayer of thanks for th' bountiful harvest an' to ask God for a swift victory over our enemies, my heart was touched by th' thought that I had truly found a home with friends an' a sense of family. Th' angry, murderous gangster in me was gone, replaced by a soldier an' guardian who was loved, an' held an important place in th' America of th' twenty-fifth century. 
  
  

Afterward
  
The Theft Of The Celestial Orb” started out as a loving  tribute to one of the greatest pulp heroes, Buck Rogers. I wanted to write a long-overdue sequel to the original “Buck Rogers” stories, “Armageddon 2419 A.D.” and “The Airlords Of Han”, written by Phillip Frances Nowlan and first appearing in “Amazing Stories” in 1928 and 1929, respectively. The stories were adapted into a continuing newspaper strip in 1929 and became a ongoing fixture in American newspapers for over forty years. It was adapted into a fifteen chapter movie serial starring Buster Crabbe in 1938. Over the years the basic story and settings of the strip evolved until finally the saga bore almost no resemblance to the pulp stories they had been based on. Most people today are only familiar with “Buck Rogers” through the embarrassing late-70’s television series starring Gil Gerard.  Trust me, put that crap out of your mind and track down the original stories. 

Once past the story outline stage, the characters, settings, and technology of “Theft...” were changed to avoid possible conflicts with the Dille Family Trust, which still holds copyright over “Buck Rogers In The 25th Century”. This finished novella is an original and wholly independent story which still manages to capture the style, flavor, and fun adventure of “Buck Rogers” , and similar “Scientifiction” stories of the twenties and thirties.  The story was written in a white-hot creative flash in the Spring of 1997, and it was a lot of fun to write.  I tried my hand at several character types I never thought I could write, like the tough gangster "Hawk", and my first non-victem female, Tegan.  The action-packed air battle at the end was quite a learning experience in timing and management of serveral story elements at once.  I also got to have fun with one of my favorite elements of pulp fiction, the "yellow peril", in this case a quasi-Asian subterranean race of conquerors. 

 One note about the central villains in “Theft...” :  Oriental villains were a standard fixture in much of the fiction of the early twentieth century, particularly in the Pulps. These villains were drawn along simple, stereotypical lines of caricature with varying degrees of racism, both subtle and overt, present. The Han, who had conquered the twenty-fifth century world of “Buck Rogers” , were “soulless” Asians that boiled out of the mountains of Tibet to utterly destroy America and invade its lands. Likewise, The Mongo hordes of “Flash Gordon”, though spawned on a different planet, were simply Chinese aliens with superior technology. The fiction of the era is replete with these “Soulless” and “Inscrutable” Asian characters, and not just in science fiction 

I like and respect the Chinese culture. Please don’t write me nasty letters calling me a racist. The GeoAsians of “Theft...” are another example, not always pleasant, of pulp magazine conventions of the time. No insult is intended or implied, and if any are taken, I wish to apologize in advance. 

If you enjoyed this story please let me hear from you!  I've wanted to get feedback on this for a long time. 
  

 

Copyright 1998 H. Lee Parten 
  
You can e-mail Lee lee_parten@hotmail.com