The Last Starry Night
Final Sacrifice

“Oh cripes,” said Gwen. “Cripes, cripes, cripes. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“We?” said the Beast. “I did that, thank you very much. You, young lady, get no credit for that at all.”

“You’re proud of what you just did?” cried Srini. “How can you be so – so heartless?”

“It was all your idea,” snapped the Beast. “Your idea and your bombs. It worked perfectly. There are still many Warriors on the sky sheet, but they will not return to the Earth for a long time. What are you sniveling about?”

“Okay, it was my idea,” said Srini. Her cheeks were wet. “But I’m not proud of it. Just because I thought we had to do it, doesn’t mean I liked it!”

“Isn’t anyone going to thank me for saving the Earth?” said the Beast.

“I’m glad you’re an alien,” said Gwen. “If you were human, I’d have to kill myself in shame.”

“Just a little appreciation, that’s all I ask,” said the Beast, sneering. “Besides, if I hadn’t destroyed the city, you would have had to. I’ve saved you the trouble. Good thing too. I don’t think any of you had the stomach to do what had to be done. If it were up to you, the Warriors would have won this war.”

“You’re a terrible witch,” said Azzie softly.

The Beast put down her cup and stepped up to Azzie. She reached out one of her horribly long fingers and touched Azzie’s nose. Her finger was unnaturally cold.

“You don’t know the half of it,” hissed the Beast.

At that moment, they burst out of nullspace high over the sky sheet. Below them, the vast turquoise tabletop spread in all directions. Directly ahead of them was the sky sheet’s bright yellow sun, and beyond that...

“There’s two suns now,” said Gwen.

“Oh yes, I nearly forgot,” said the Beast. “We need to return the Earth’s sun to its little toy universe.”

“That’s our sun?” cried Srini.

“Yes,” said the Beast. She went over to her console and scanned its displays.

“How are we ever going to move it back?” asked Srini.

“I am the Beast,” said the woman proudly. “I have power over time and space.” She turned to face them, smiling wickedly. “Of course, my power is not infinite. I have used up a great deal of energy dealing with you people and destroying the Warrior civilization. I need more energy... from somewhere.” She looked directly at Azzie, and then turned her gaze to Ngoc.

“What!” cried Azzie. A vague fear, like an echo of deja-vu, tickled her mind. “Leave my mother alone!”

“I need the energy to return the sun to the toy universe,” said the Beast softly. She strode over to Ngoc. “I am the Beast. I am part machine and part animal, and sometimes I must feed on other beings. I am very hungry. Allow me to eat your mother’s mind, and I will be able to move the sun.” Ngoc looked up at her, eyes wide with fear.

“Eat her mind?” said Gwen.

“I gave you this choice before, Azalea,” said the Beast. “I offered to declare the humans sentient if you allowed me to eat your mother.” She smiled. “You refused to answer me. So I did not declare the humans sentient, and millions of humans have already died for that.”

“No!” said Azzie. “You can’t blame that on me! You caused all this, not me!” But the Beast’s words planted doubt in her heart. Could she really have saved all the people who died – who were dying – because the Warriors had removed the sun?

“I’m giving you another chance,” said the Beast sternly. “Remember, sometimes both choices lead to pain. Only a child believes that there is always a simple answer. Make your choices and take responsibility for them.”

“Don’t eat her,” said Azzie. She dropped to her knees. “Take me instead.”

“No!” shrieked Ngoc.

“Don’t leave Johnny without his Mama,” pleaded Azzie. “Take me.”

“No, take me!” said Srini.

“No, me!” cried Gwen.

“Don’t eat Johnny,” said Johnny.

The Beast laughed wickedly. “I will eat Ngoc,” she said. “Ngoc’s heart is rich and thick, full of guilt and pain and loneliness. Such a heart is by far the best kind.”

“How does one human mind give you the energy to move a star?” demanded Srini.

“Don’t try to understand; it’s far beyond the comprehension of your tiny monkey brain,” said the Beast.

“I don’t believe you!” cried Gwen. “This is all just a set-up. You said before you liked to hurt people because you’re bored. You’re just trying to hurt Azzie a little more! You’re a fraud and a bully!”

The Beast reached out a long thin arm and wrapped her fingers around Gwen’s head. There was a snapping noise, and Gwen’s head jerked back. She crumpled.

“No more time for this foolishness,” said the Beast, furious now. “Azalea! Will you sacrifice your mother to me for the sake of the Earth?”

Azalea looked up into the Beast’s terrible eyes. “I will,” she whispered.

The Beast smiled and turned toward Ngoc, reaching out her fingers. Ngoc thrust Johnny over to Azzie, then stood her ground, staring at the Beast as she approached.

Suddenly the control room was flooded with light from above. Azzie blinked and looked up.

For a second it seemed that a second sky sheet had appeared above them – upside-down, with two suns of its own. Then Azzie realized that she was looking at a huge silvery mirror the size of a skyscraper hanging above them, reflecting the sky sheet and the sunlight. The mirror was moving closer. Was it a ship?

“Shamans,” hissed Preimo.

“Blast it out of the sky!” cried the Beast.

Mekhro’s fingers tapped furiously, and dozens of black bolts traced across the mirrored surface. Whenever a bolt got too close, the whole silvery ship went black for an instant. It always reappeared unharmed.

“They have a nullshield,” said Mekhro.

“I can see that,” snapped the Beast. “We’ll have to overload it.”

“We don’t have that much power,” said Preimo. “They will overload our nullshield first.”

“We should go back to nullspace,” said Mekhro.

“They haven’t even fired on us yet!” cried the Beast. “And you’re ready to give up?”

“You don’t live as long as I have without using a certain amount of prudence,” said Mekhro. “We’ve lost this time.”

“No!” cried the Beast. “Shamans are cowards! They always run away from a fight.”

“Your brain is addled,” said Preimo. “They only run away from fights they’re going to lose. They can see into the future, remember?”

The hemispherical walls went utterly black.

“Preimo!” shrieked the Beast. “You’ve taken us to nullspace!”

“No,” growled Preimo. “The Shamans are overloading our shield!”

A second later the blackness dissolved into the sky sheet and the Shaman ship again.

“Our shields are gone,” said Preimo.

“All right, all right,” said the Beast. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We can’t,” said Preimo. “They have fired again. Our engines are disabled.”

“Get weapons,” snapped the Beast to Mekhro. “They’ll be boarding.”

Mekhro dashed for a wall panel and yanked it open. He tossed rifles to the Beast and Preimo and took several more himself.

“It has been eons since I was in a real firefight,” said the Beast, her eyes alight. “This will be something! We’ll make our stand in the central chamber. Preimo, bring the prisoners.”

The Beast dashed out, followed by Mekhro. Preimo gestured with his rifle, and Azzie, Johnny, Srini, and Ngoc went ahead of him. They left Gwen lying motionless on the floor.

***

The central chamber turned out to be the library where Atlas stood under the weight of the Earth. “Get under the statue,” snapped Preimo, and he poked Azzie in the ribs with his rifle. The four of them huddled at Atlas’s feet under the huge stone Earth. Preimo, Mekhro and the Beast checked their weapons and looked around a little nervously.

Srini felt of the cold stone. “While we’re fighting here,” she whispered, “the Earth is still freezing.”

“Where are the people that were here before?” asked Azzie. “And who were they?”

Srini just shook her head.

Only a few seconds passed before the ship began to shudder and groan. Somewhere far below Azzie, she half-heard, half-felt metal and wood bending and snapping.

Then the walls of books around them seemed to waver and shimmer, as though the air in the room were hazy with heat. And then there was a smell of fish, and a cold, wet blast of air, and a doorway appeared – a doorway into a dark, coral-lined corridor. For a long moment, nothing happened. All waited, not daring to breathe.

Then Grandma Griffin stepped out of the doorway, an alien rifle at her shoulder. She planted her feet firmly and took aim. The Beast, Mekhro and Preimo stood dumbfounded.

“All right,” she said. “Y’all going to be sensible and give up, or are y’all going to make me figure out how this thing works?”

For another split second, nothing happened. Then the Beast fired her rifle at Grandma. The space around Grandma went completely black for the blink of an eye, and then Grandma reappeared. Grandma fired at the Beast; a blaze of orange erupted from the barrel and knocked the Beast back into the arms of Preimo. As she fell, she disappeared in a burst of flame. Preimo was left with empty arms. Then Mekhro cried out, and began firing continuously on Grandma. She seemed to flicker in and out of darkness as she tried to aim again.

“What is going on?” said Azzie.

“She must have some kind of personal nullshield,” said Srini. “Who is that?”

“That’s my Grandma,” said Azzie. She felt incredibly proud as she said it.

“She won’t last long,” said Srini nervously.

Then five Shamans slithered out of the doorway, remarkably quickly. Each one was carrying a device that looked a little like a wheel in its mouth tentacles. Preimo fired at one, but the Shaman was moving to dodge even before he raised his weapon. Mekhro fired as well, but the same thing happened.

“Did you see that?” hissed Srini. “They can see the future!”

Then two Shamans fired orange bolts from the center of their wheels at once – one at where Mekhro stood, and the other a little to the right. Mekhro tried to dodge the first bolt and threw himself directly into the path of the second. He burst into flame and disappeared.

Preimo lifted his rifle and fired at the Earth on Atlas’s shoulders. He played his nullbolt back and forth across the Earth’s surface, cutting it to ribbons. Then three of the Shamans’ orange bolts struck him, and he was gone.

Grandma came up to them quickly, and gathered them all – Srini too – into a huge hug.

“Grandma, Grandma,” said Azzie. “How did you get here?”

“These kind worm gentlemen negotiated me away from the lizard things,” said Grandma. “When they told me what was going on, I asked to be brought to y’all to give y’all a hand. It took a while for them to replace y’all, but they did, and they told me to get ready for a fight, since y’all were in the hands of some unsavory characters.”

A Shaman slithered close. “Ms. Griffin,” it said, “you should be aware that this ship is losing power and will shortly be falling into the sky sheet.”

“That don’t sound too good,” said Grandma. “Reckon we ought to get back on your ship?”

“Absolutely,” said Azzie. “But first we have to get Gwen.”

“That’s one of your new friends, right?” asked Grandma. “The worms were telling me about her.”

“Yes, but she’s very hurt, I don’t know if she’ll be all right --”

“The doorways have closed!” cried Srini.

Azzie looked. The doors back to the Shamans’ ship had disappeared.

“Why did y’all shut the doors?” demanded Grandma.

The Shaman said, “Our ship has left us here.”

“I’d gathered that,” snapped Grandma. “Why?”

“They detected danger.”

“So they cut and run? Well why didn’t they bring us along?”

“There was no time,” said another Shaman.

“You five must have sensed the danger, too,” said Srini. “Why didn’t you leave, too?”

“You needed our assistance.”

“Thank you,” said Azzie earnestly. “Do you know what the danger is? Is there any way to avoid it?”

“I have only a vague sense of it,” said the Shaman. “But I expect it has something to do with that.”

The alien pointed with one of its mouth tentacles, somewhere above and behind them. They turned. Rising slowly out of the slashed and tattered remnants of Atlas’s Earth, tumbling almost lazily upward, was a small tin can.