INTO THE BLACK

Previously on INTO THE BLACK

Google and the hang have just collected the first piece of the three-part Trinity Key. With directions on how to get the next two pieces, things are looking up for our heroes, but surely Prince Mykur can't be beaten that easily. And so far, if this story was a chocolate bar, there'd be no need for the warning: May contain traces of Cher.

Now we rejoin the action...

The celebrations and back patting were still going strong on-board The Love Crusader. For once even Liberty was letting her hair down – allowing herself the chance to imagine a time when Mykur may be defeated and Google safe. The only ones that didn't seem to be partying it up, were Abe (who had retreated to his room – tired of hearing about other people's success) and Google, who sat alone in a corner of the cockpit reading The art of war by Sun Tzu. Jupiter got up from his recliner and made his way over.

“Your bodyguards can't handle their alcohol, can they?”

“Are they drunk?” asked Google, not looking up from his book.

“Yeah, Justice is blind. And Liberty's on her way, too,” Jupiter said. He studied Google a moment, then added, “What's up with you?”

“I'm not drunk, relax,” he replied.

“No, it's not that. You've barely said a word since we got a piece of the key. I thought you'd be happy. This is what you wanted, right?”

Google glanced up at Jupiter, “I didn't want any of this. I never asked for it. I'm going to get us all killed is what's going to happen. You should leave. You should all get as far away as you can.”

“Whoa, what's brought this on?”

“The closer we get to the Trinity Key, the closer we get to Mykur, and the closer we get to my showdown with him... it just all suddenly feels real. And I realised something today... I can't win.”

The declaration hung in the air. Before Jupiter could counter, Google continued, “Justice risked his life a few hours ago and didn't even blink. I couldn't do that. When Miller pulled a blaster on us, where was I? Hiding behind Justice and Liberty, messing my pants. Same as always. Can't anyone see – I'm not a hero! How the fudge am I supposed to defeat Mykur... I'm just a kid. How can I succeed when the prophecy says real heroes like Justice and Liberty would fail? There's no hope.”

Jupiter rested his hand on Google's shoulder.

“You're just a little scared, that's ok. It's not a crime to be afraid. Well, except for on Delta 7.”

Originally a inhospitable planet, Delta 7 was terra-formed in the late 22^nd century by Jedi Fundamentalists who, based on the teachings of Yoda in the prequel testament (“Fear leads anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side”) decided to make fear a crime. Coincidentally, Delta 7 was now almost entirely covered in prisons – with citizens living in constant fear of being put in jail.

“So just relax, the prophecy...”

Google scoffed back a laugh, “The prophecy says I'm the only one that can fight him and live. Key word: can. Not: will. The point is, I'm no hero. I don't even know who I am yet. I don't think I could kill someone. I just want to be nobody. To live a normal life - I've never even been in love or kissed a girl.”

Jupiter laughed. Google glanced across, annoyed.

“Forget I said anything.”

“No – sorry I wasn't laughing at you. It's just... you're scared of the wrong things. Trust me, there are worse things than death.”

“Like what?”

“Women.”

“So you are Arty.”

“For the last time, no. I'm attracted to women plenty.”

“So you've just never been in love then?” Google asked.

“I didn't say that,” Jupiter answered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“What's it like?”

“I don't have time to talk about it,” Jupiter replied before getting up. Google looked back down at his book, still clearly depressed.

A sigh from Jupiter, and then, “Just one night with someone you love... it's like... it's like your whole life is worth it, just for those few fleeting moments. That there's a greater power behind it all.”

Google looked up at him, “That doesn't sound so bad.”

“You got a lot to learn kid.”

Jupiter made his way back to his quarters, hoping for a quick nap before they made plans on getting to Atlantis. He'd barely closed his eyes when he sensed a light coming from inside his room.

“Your 24 hours are nearly up,” said a hologram of Prince Mykur.

“You said I had 48 hours.”

“Did I? Well, I changed my mind. Now, let me use the remaining time to tell you a story, in case you finished school before I made my biography part of the curriculum. Do you know why I'll rule the galaxy?”

Jupiter thought on it a second. “Your massive conscripted army?”

“No. Simple will power. In life, you need to dare do what the other man won't do. If he'll kill one billion people, then you must be prepared to kill one billion and one. My parents didn't understand that principle – they let our planet be downgraded to a moon. You can see why I had to kill them.”

“I'm sure if they were still alive, they'd be very proud, your majesty.”

Mykur smiled, not picking up on the sarcasm. “I like to think so. My point is that you need to think the unthinkable, do the un-doable. That's how you become great. That's how you become legend.”

“Why are you blessing me with this lesson?”

“You and I are, we're not so disimilar. Normally, in this position, I'd threaten to kill someone you love – but I can't find any record of you loving anyone. Your file shows time and again that you'll chose money over all else. It warms my heart. But that won't save you if you disappoint me. Now, kill Google and enjoy untold riches.”

Jupiter took a deep breath. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer.”

A flash of anger appeared on Mykur's face, but in an instant it was replaced by a chilling calm.

“You will live to regret it. And then eventually die to regret it,” said Mykur.

“I don't know,” said Jupiter, sitting up confidently in his bed. “I'm starting to think this kid could take you down.”

“Oh do you?” said Mykur with an icy grin.

“Way I see it, we've not only got a prophecy on our side – but now the first piece of The Trinity Key, too. So maybe you should start treating us a little nicer.”

“Well then, seeing as we're sharing secrets – I think this might bring you back down to Earth 8: The eagle seen up close does not fly, so you see, your chosen one will die.”

Jupiter furrowed his brow. “Uh, what does that mean?”

“It is very vague isn't it... I knew I should've made them go with the cooking theme,” said Mykur.

“What!?”

“Your chosen one was chosen all right – but by me. If you want to make your own chosen one at home, first you need to separate him from his parents: I suggest you finely chop up the reanimation system on your selected child's ship. Then take your child - the miraculous survivor, and add a tattoo and scar artist to create a delicate birthmark on his shoulder. To finish, let him simmer for, oh, around ten years. I don't know about you, but I sure do find it delicious.”

Jupiter went a shade of white.

“You mean...”

“That's right, I'm afraid Google is no more the chosen one than you are. He was just a diversion I created to keep everyone occupied while I went about hunting down and killing the real chosen one. Oh, I do like surprises, don't you?”