Xeria’s home planet of Iegaké had nearly been purged of life by demons with greater technology and firepower. Their spaceships hold hostage not only the paltry number of survivors — including her father — but the entire solar system. If Xeria does not return from a neighboring planet with the Drayden Dust that allows demons to dream, Mizk will destroy the entire planet, and prey upon the next ….
The universe, including those regions that bend beyond the realm of detection, is rife with immense galaxies whose second greatest purpose may be to disrupt the mind-numbing expanse of nothingness. As vast as galaxies are, the discernable matter inside them accounts for only ten percent of the entire cosmos. The other ninety percent is empty ― raw, black space. Dark Matter.
Galaxies are not disturbed by this 9:1 ratio. They do not breathe, but live and die just the same as they push through space and time. Rotation on a truly cosmic scale ‘flattens’ mature galaxies into predominately disc-like formations. The elderly have lost the spiral gaseous arms from which celestial bodies are born. In the relatively youthful, masses of infantile gaseous haze have yet to develop into discernable shapes, but the nebulae in them have created enough stars to glow with the promise of their elders.
Streaking on paths unknown are comet-like galaxies of indiscriminate age, where black holes wrench all matter to one side and into crushing maws. Mindless predators, the black holes will not be sated, even after the last body has been consumed. As a final solution, they cannibalize one another.
All galaxies, regardless of age, are populated with mortal stars and planets. Stars burn with ferocity, unconcerned with the trivialities of the lowly planets trapped in their gravitational fields.
Space dust glows quasar-blue as we approach a galaxy in the shape of a rare figure eight. Among the billions of stars inside it, one in particular draws our attention. Twelve planets revolve around this sun.
Four of these twelve planets support life … and death.
* * *
The rivers of planet Iegaké, once so pure and clear, now run like opened veins through blackened fields, charred forests and crumbling cities. The blood and bodies of millions, those unfortunate enough to escape incineration during the first wave of blast attacks, choke ancient waterways. Embankments have flooded over. Farmlands are grotesque swamps. Still the fouled waters rise … and bleed into deserts that had been dry for eons. Sand that had been bleached white by the sun now seeps crimson.
Mizk plunged his massive arm to the elbow in the sand. His claws left gash marks on the surface. Battle leather creaked as he straightened. Slits of glowing amber served as eyes. The sand screeched as he squeezed, then rivulets of bloody water snaked over the iron muscles of his forearm.
“Who dares approach Mizk with empty hands?” the demon said, not bothering to turn around. The words were growled through gnashed teeth.
“Van Dreen.”
“Insects never learn. Most dead on this little planet and still they not learn. Dull mortals should never taste air. This simple language is unfit for the demon tongue. Better to have desert sand than mortals. Where is the dust? Mortal Van Dreen, where is my dust?”
“Xeria will come with the Draden Dust. I beg you, spare what remains of my people!”
“Insects! If I could shield from nasty Draden Mountains, I would extract dust myself. Where is my dust?”
“Xeria has been captured trying to get it. It … is nearly impossible to obtain. There are laws against aiding demons, punishable by death. The other colonists in our solar system have sensors to penetrate all known ship metals to prevent smuggling. Give us more time and we can provide all the dust you require. Only just today were we able to get someone inside the prison to try and set Xeria ―”
“Bring it now!”
In a move that belied his size, Mizk pivoted and raised his blaster at Van Dreen’s men. Like Van Dreen, they had haunted eyes, wore tattered clothes and could barely stand upright for wounds and grief. Van Dreen leaped before the blaster, arms out.
“Wait! The dust is coming …!”
The blaster hummed a death tune. The barrel could fit a man’s head. Van Dreen could see it begin to glow.
Mizk bared his fangs, threw his massive head back and roared, broad tongue the color of burnt zaridian jutting out and back. He lowered the blaster and faced the desert once more.
“It better come soon. Two more cycles and I finish here, then order forces to wreck the other three planets in this putrid system. If I cannot have dust, then rival Romm will not either. With dust I can defeat Romm, without dust I can only maybe defeat Romm. Does the insect mortal Van Dreen understand?”
“Yes.” Frantically he waved his men back to the half-walls and boulders that had been the Desert Temple.