On the massive pool deck, beautiful ladies in skimpy bikinis lay beside Olympic-size pools and wave lakes catching safer filtered UV rays. They gave their spoiled rotten kids everything the whiny little brats wanted in food, toys and arcade token points just to keep them out of their hair. They whispered conspiratorially to each other, making jealous remarks about the bodies of younger women and girls, resentful that their time had come and gone. They ogled college-age guys in skin-tight swimsuits and even those older high school boys whose firm young bodies stirred forbidden thoughts of lust and desire as they squeezed their thighs together salaciously. And they giggled and snorted as they compared notes on the shortcomings of their men up on the driving range deck, pouring beer into that ever-expanding gut. And there was always plenty to complain about. weight gain, hair loss, lack of ambition at work, not helping around the house, how much better things had been in the ‘good ol’ days.’
But, on this day, they would get a special treat. The sky would light up outside the hotel, as several flashes were witnessed. People rushed to the massive window just in time to see Space Guard ships open up on a strange, never-before-seen black ship with rail cannon. Children with inflatable rings still around their waist, and mothers holding drinks with paper umbrellas watched tracer fire crisscross across the black void as interceptors hurtling up from Spaceport Tokyo joined in the fray. And yet, the black ship appeared to bob and weave, like a boxer ducking haymakers, almost seeming to taunt the Guard ships.
This was better than any movie feature showing in the Marquee Theatre that evening.
***
In the Night Mare, Tiger saw the tracers shoot by the cockpit.
“They’re shootin’ at us!” he yelled out exuberantly.
“Ya think, genius?” Shaniqua retorted. “What’d you expect them to do? They’re losing us!”
“Yeah, but you can’t outrun pulse rounds,” Ruff looked worried.
“He’s gotta point, Shaniqua,” Tiger agreed. “We got anything we can say hi back with?”
“Chil’ … were you not payin’ attention when Dee told you what they built me for? Tell your pet there to operate the weapons console in front of him. He can read, can’t he?”
“I am not a pet!” Ruff took great offense at the slight. Nevertheless, he turned his seat to the console and powered it up. “And yes, I can read in five languages, thank you.”
“Well, you only need to read in one, Spot.”
As the weapons systems came online, the AnthroSplice’s eyes grew wide. “Gee whiz!” he exclaimed.
“Like what you see over there?” Tiger called out.
“Oh, yes!” Ruff activated the main hologram and started tapping the targeting system icons.
“Good! Feel free to use them at your earliest convenience!” A barrage of Authority rounds suddenly found the Night Mare and thudded against the hull. Tiger glanced at the shield gauges. They flickered slightly, but otherwise, they seemed to hardly even notice.
“Don’t worry!” Ruff now had an eager grin on his face. “I got something for that.” It was payback time. Payback for the hazing, for all the cruelty he’d endured.
In the rear of the Night Mare, a turret rose up, the twin rail cannon charging to full power as it rotated, searching for targets. It didn’t take but a second to find one.
“Don’t kill’em!” Tiger cautioned. “Just put ‘em outta the fight!”
“I can do that,” Ruff sounded a bit disappointed. But Tiger was right; these weren’t the men who’d tormented him. He sighted in on the closest target, the one doing the firing. Zooming the gunsight in, he put the crosshairs on the port engine. He then opened fire.
The green tracer fire of the Night Mare was a stark contrast to orange-red Authority ammo. Ruff was off slightly, but he “walked” the cannon fire across the engine pod with the patience of an experienced gunner. The superheated pulse rounds ripped through the rocket pod-like darts through paper. The pod began to superheat and disintegrate almost immediately. The crippled ship began to tumble out of control, leaving a trail of debris as it hurtled through space. The pilots following had to break right and left to avoid flying through it and potentially damaging their own ships.
But their pursuit and the addition of an Asian group had succeeded in forcing Tiger steadily away from orbital space and into an empty quadrant. Tiger wasn’t a combat pilot. He had no idea what was going on. He was simply having fun playing chase, knowing they were never going to catch him. They, on the other hand, were applying necessary tactical procedures. They had a purpose for every twist and turn.
They were herding him toward a kill zone.
And once they had him where they wanted him, a cruise missile launched from the orbiting platform, a fifty-kiloton nuclear warhead in its nosecone. It wouldn’t need to make a direct hit on the Night Mare. This was a “flak” shot. It would be a space burst, with the intent to destroy everything within the designated sector. That’s why they had chased him there. The Night Mare would be the only object vaporized by the blast.
And by holding fire until the last minute, there was no way he could escape. He might outrun other ships, but he wasn’t outrunning an atomic blast.
They had him.
***
“Ummm, Mister Bojangles,” Shaniqua would be the harbinger of bad news. “You gotta missile bearing down on your ass. And those fighters are falling back.”
“I thought we were outrunning them.”
“No! They’re reducing speed, goober. They’re planning on that missile doin’ us in.”
“It can’t see us, can it?” Ruff had been listening in on the conversation. “I thought you had stealth technology.”
“It won’t have to, Fido,” she told him. “If it has a nuclear warhead of any decent size on it, it can take out anything within dozens of miles of detonation.”
“You can’t outrun it?” A hint of nervousness crept into his voice.
“They basically fired it at point-blank range. We won’t get far.”
Tiger fell
