Free Star Blaze by Keith Mansfield Page A

Just this one room was the size of a football ground. Around the walls were inscriptions carved into the golden stone—Johnny had to rely on his lessons from Alf to try to make sense of the writing, as the fleck of the Hundra’s soul inside him could only translatespoken languages. It proved beyond him. Instead, he looked around at the few different aliens scattered about. All were alone and it was odd that he had to squint to focus properly on them—as though they were surrounded by some sort of haze. For a few moments Johnny studied a curiously blurred hexapod fairly close by. All six of its legs were moving forward, yet it remained exactly where it was.
    Puzzled, he lay down on his back on top of the springy floor and gazed up at the ceiling. In the outer reaches of the Milky Way, stars were spread out. The Toliman system had been the closest to Earth’s Sun (which the rest of the galaxy called Sol), but even that was four light years away. Here, at the galaxy’s core, stars were much more tightly packed. That was why the night sky remained so bright, despite the lights of Melania trying to blot them out. During the time he’d spent at the Imperial Palace, the view had been nothing short of spectacular. As Johnny studied the ceiling now, he thought he could identify a few stars and, if he was right, could even see the diamond-shaped constellation Portia (Bram had said it meant “the doorkeeper” in an ancient tongue) that was the Emperor’s symbol.
    The jeweled sky became fuzzy. Johnny sat up and found his face squidged against something he couldn’t see, as if clingfilm had been stretched across it. For a moment he panicked, but the next thing he knew he’d passed through the strange membrane and found himself inside a clear sphere, four or five meters across. As he got to his feet a smug voice, backed by eerie high tempo music, spoke from all around, saying, “Thank you for choosing the Milky Way News Network—the number one Vermalcast of all the news, all of the time, from all across the galaxy.” Johnny had never heard of a Vermalcast but presumed he was in it. Against background music, the voice continued, “In the news this hour … Senate Stalemate —today’s crucial voteon war funding hangs in the balance. Hundra Horror —at a ceremony welcoming five threatened star systems under Regency protection, the local President touches a hovering translator and is instantly killed. Hear Chancellor Karragon explain the diplomatic oversight. The Absent Emperor —a special report by Z’habar Z’habar Estagog. And Sport —the latest stage of the Aldebaran to Mizar Rally. Can anyone catch Sebes Kiksapongo? Approach your story now. To the left and right and in front and behind, an image from each of the options had been projected onto the clear walls of the bubble.”
    Johnny moved to his right toward Bram Khari’s familiar face, hoping this was how he chose the story he wanted. It seemed to work. He couldn’t reach the side of the sphere—it rotated beneath him as he walked—but the figure of a far younger Bram, very like the one he’d met in the distant past, crystallized before him, fully three-dimensional. The Emperor was wearing a white top displaying the four stars of Portia, with black trousers, as he stepped out of an enormous spaceship and waved to massed crowds surrounding Johnny. It was just like being there. Hovering only a little above Bram was a very curious, six-legged alien with two sets of thin, insect-like wings which were beating so quickly they formed a solid blur. The creature had a long, twisted neck like a double helix, above which sat two completely separate, but apparently identical, heads. One of them began speaking and, after a few seconds, the other joined in.
    â€œWe’ve all seen the footage. Long before almost any of today’s Imperial citizens were alive—
ignoring the