Planet Wrecker

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Early next morning, Hawthorne left the Joho Mountains in a two-seater attack-jet. The pilot flew nap-of-the-Earth, roaring over trees, valleys and low hills. At times, Hawthorne twisted around and watched the highest leaves rustle from the jet’s wash. The trip was tiring, with everything soon blurring below him.

The Highborn laser satellites had headed out to space to do battle with the approaching asteroids. But Hawthorne wasn’t taking any chances. He trusted the Highborn to act with ruthless cunning, keeping something in low orbit to hit when the right moment came.

Toward the end of the trip as they flashed over the Liaotung Mountains, Hawthorne pressed his nose against the canopy’s glass. Orange flowers blossomed on the hillsides. They were beautiful. The idea that cyborg-sent asteroids would soon crash into Earth and burn everything in an end-of-the-world holocaust made him nauseous. That he’d had anything to do with originally summoning these aliens made it a hundred times worse. Were the Highborn to blame for that? They’re the ones who’d started the rebellion.

Highborn, cyborgs, plunging asteroids—madness gripped the Solar System. Now he was rushing to meet traitors to humanity, outlaws who had cast their lot with mankind’s nightmare. Had the fools only realized now that they were bootlicking slaves to genetic supremacists? How could he trust such people?

Hawthorne sat back as the jet whooshed over a mountain, zooming toward a river in the distance. He couldn’t trust them. He didn’t even trust Cone. Maybe the only people he’d ever really trusted were Captain Mune and his bionic soldiers. Most of them were already dead from trying to storm stellar death.

Gazing up at the sky, Hawthorne wondered how they fared. He wondered if Mune was even alive.

“We’re near our destination, sir,” the pilot said.

“Yes, thank you,” Hawthorne said. Two FEC colonels, two traitors, two ambitious climbers wanted to speak with him face-to-face. For the sake of Earth, for the sake of humanity’s future, he would deal with them. But if he ever trusted them, he hoped he’d die a crushing death beneath the steel treads of a cybertank.