Centre of my Cosmos

There had been one or two hitches, but here at last was the fallback point, another Xandreth district still under construction. Phoenix Prime, the holdall containing Scientooth on her shoulder and Petunia under her other arm, touched down on a rooftop overlooking the darkened half-finished neighbourhood and folded her flame-wings. She had intended this to be the landing-site, and to have done without that regrettable race through a dozen blocks of densely-peopled nightspots. Now however, after all that, her objective was finally within reach.

“Drop the girl, Phoenix Prime,” said Carmilla’s voice. “You know this taking-hostages stuff doesn’t fool me.”

“Perhaps not,” Phoenix Prime conceded, loosing her hold. With a rustle and an indignant squeak Petunia thudded to the roof, as Carmilla atop Runalong swerved into eyeshot and held steady off the building’s edge to address her sister face-to-face.

“I’ve somewhere to be, Carmilla,” said Phoenix Prime. “Don’t try and keep me from getting there. You may have put your uniform back on, but stand in my way and you’ll forfeit the right to ever wear that insignia again.”

Petunia had been in the throes of a discreet departure, making cautiously for the fire-escape on her hands and knees, but all at once she stopped.

“I’m dressed like this because I don’t associate with Dylan anymore,” Carmilla returned. “I can understand wanting nothing to do with any Alliance that endorses his interpretation of the cause. But what you’re letting yourself in for now, Phoenix Prime…it’s every bit as dangerous. Someone has to oppose that too.”

“We brought our battles with us from home, and visited injustice on this galaxy as a result,” declared Phoenix Prime. “I take the view that it’s our duty to make amends. There you have my interpretation of the cause, which I’ve reason to believe is not light-years distant from that of its inventor.”

For Petunia, there was nothing else this could mean. Her violet eyes opened wide. These few words between the sisters were more than enough for her to leap to conclusions with all her customary careful consideration and forethought, and the revelation was like magisterial music striking up in the very rubbibubbacles of Petunia’s heart.

That may have had something to do with Cherry, who knew better than to push her luck. They’d been a great crowd but it was past time for the grand finale, seeing as on a night like this the next thing might be Xandreth Rings themselves spinning off into uncharted universe. The band felt the same, and were thankful to see Cherry’s signage to this end.

“I’m sorry, Carmilla,” added Phoenix Prime in closing. A second later it became clear for what.

On the street below Moltron thundered into view, still leading the survivors of Spookan’s fungal force while four men and four jeeps followed hot on their heels. That was when everything around, from the murkiest alleyways to the tallest building-top, began to rumble and shake. Phoenix Prime had never had any intention of using an easily-traceable prison-transport to keep her appointment with Magnolia, Schiss-Zazz and Big Grin. Now from out of the labyrinth of building-sites and scaffolding frames a silver-armoured yellowish-skinned cyborg colossus heaved itself hugely up against the black Xandreth sky, unlatching a passenger-compartment built into its gigantic boot for Moltron and the mushroom-men to hasten inside.

Golden chords from the pink-haired girl resonated through the auditorium, speaking persuasively of drama and moment. It was an intro to leave the clientele in no doubt that the last dance was upon them. As supplemental strings from the beetle-like bassist stirred this sentiment in deeper places yet, the gargantuan one gave voice like his robotic cousin’s drumroll amplified to the tune of:

“Face Technus!”

Carmilla’s compeers on their sky-steeds had little option but to do as he demanded, while she herself with a helpless look steered Runalong from their conference and into the fray, knowing she had toppled this leviathan before and her assistance would be indispensable now. For Petunia meanwhile it was as if every throb and pulsation of the music she could not hear nevertheless struck home, and had done ever since Phoenix Prime made mention of he whose very existence was what had made Petunia aware in the first place that the lyrics of love-songs could carry such meaning.

The former was already unfurling her wings. Petunia scrambled to her feet and wailed aloud: “Wait!” as bass and lyre fell to a subdued but bracing backbeat, holding the highs in reserve, and Cherry softly and sonorously began to plead:

Be the centre of my cosmos, all the rest is empty dark,

Phoenix Prime turned in surprise. “You do understand you’re allowed to leave?” she asked Petunia.

“There’s something you must see!” that one cried, then whirled round so her back was to Phoenix Prime and with an air of immense significance showed her she herself was sporting the much-debated emblem.

“Yes, you wear very nice ones,” Phoenix Prime said patiently. “I should let you know however that of all my sisters, I take by far the least interest in that particular subject – ”

“You’re going to find Joe, aren’t you?” blurted Petunia, releasing her skirts and spinning back to centre so the huge violet eyes locked with Phoenix Prime’s own. “That’s what you and your friends are trying to do! Join him at the twin planets and help him rescue the farns!”

My star-drive’s overheating, so please say we can embark,

Sang Cherry,

And side-by-side we’ll dance by ever quasar, every quark...

Phoenix Prime needed a minute to process all this. She concluded it would be beyond even her grasp of science to deduce how Petunia had been able to misinterpret the situation quite so spectacularly, but within her bizarre burbling was one kernel of potentially vital data which bore immediate investigation. “You’re part of Joe’s group?” inquired Phoenix Prime.

The other enthusiastically indicated she was, which Phoenix Prime might have been sure of anyway, not only due to the prominent Four Heroes logo but moreover from what Petunia apparently knew. This girl might have heard about the twin planets from any vidi-broadcast, but it would require privileged insights into Joe’s own agenda to be aware that that was where he was. And if the originator of The Four Heroes’ cause did indeed by some undreamt-of chance happen to await Phoenix Prime at her destination, then suddenly everything was changed. Joe had come to Grindotron to have it out with her family and Dylan over the Scientooth issue the very day she left that world. Only Joe, besides herself, had actively contested what they had done. His faction might be the sole source of support she could hope for in this quadrant now. A member of that faction – one who for all Phoenix Prime knew might even be able to lead her to Joe once they gained the twin planets – would be quite an asset to have along.

Seconds went by as Phoenix Prime stared at Petunia, mind working, while mini-jeeps warred in never-ending motion against the missile-spitting fist-swatting Technus and pandemonium played itself out unheeded. Petunia stared back, not without a certain silent prayer quavering somewhere inside.

Be the centre of my cosmos, all the rest is lifeless void,

At length Phoenix Prime acknowledged that no matter what possibilities might be afforded by this twist of fate, she was nevertheless bound by the first duty of the cause to which she had attached herself. “I told you you were free to go,” she began, “and I’ll stand by that. But if there was any chance – ”

“Are you kidding?” Petunia exclaimed. “Take me to him! It’s all I ask!”

Phoenix Prime grinned. “Then carry this,” said she, passing Petunia her zipped-up holdall. Next moment girl and satchel were scooped up safely in Phoenix Prime’s arms, as Cherry soulful and low continued:

But with you I’d have my honeymoon on any planetoid,

Spookan the Sinister lurched out of the night and passed by overhead, nimbly circumnavigating the carnage to access his berth in Technus’s body via a hatch in the latter’s shoulder.

I’d soar to you,

And the drummer and strings responded in earnest, proclaiming at last they were on the home stretch.

’Cross Heaven’s view,

Phoenix Prime spread her wings.

Your ardent asteroid...

Bassist and lyre and vocals and drums were one, blazing the final trail of their musical odyssey. Most of the dance-hall was with them in song, not merely reciting the known refrain but sharing every emotion it invoked. Perhaps this multitude did not yet fully apprehend that they themselves were embarked on a voyage too, one which promised greater wonders still than those glimpsed this night, but all agreed that chorusing along to Cherry was the surest means of lighting the way.

Be the centre of my cosmos, may your boosters ever burn,

Petunia held on tight, to Phoenix Prime and the somewhat weighty bag in her lap. Roils of rocket-exhaust billowing from beneath Technus’s heels were taking possession of the uncompleted streets. And the masses sang, though Flashthunder watching from a table by the stage was happy past all power of speech, his eyes and smile alight with love. What a consummate professional his girlfriend was. He’d never wanted her more.

And the centre of my cosmos burns for you...

A soaring note which lingered at the uppermost corners of creation,

…in return.

Phoenix Prime vaulted heavenwards, abreast of Technus whose planet-trembling blast-off bore him burgeoning for orbit on a primordial pillar of smoke and thrust, while the musicians hammered down the scales one final time and made an end. A neighbourhood empty but for a handful of heroes sounded under the ringing silence left behind, a dancefloor gave itself up to cheers and whistles and rapturous adulation, and a manager finally let out his breath and collapsed contentedly to a puddle of goo.

NEXT: 'PETUNIA'S WISHING STAR'