Read Online The Last Starfighter by Alan Dean Foster - Free Book Online

cool glow at the rear of the car faded. Sputtering noises filled the cockpit. Lights dimmed and winked. They reminded Alex of the neon sign on the front of the trailer park general store.
    Glowering at the dash in frustration, Centauri gave it a couple of good whacks with his right hand as the car commenced losing altitude and momentum. Alex made gargling sounds from behind the partition.
    A faint rumble rose from astern. All the dash lights sprang to full life and the car began to rise once more. Wheels retracted into the underbelly while metal moved to seal them inside. Antennae appeared on the skin of the vehicle, metal flowers blossoming in the moonlight.
    As Centauri leaned contentedly back in his seat the car increased its angle of ascent and split the clouds.
    “Damned system locks. Don’t make ’em like they used to.” He touched various controls, some of which had just made their first appearance on the dash, and tried to explain to his passenger. “I tell you, son, you just can’t get decent work done these days. A good mechanic’s hard to find. Everyone is under a lot of pressure, though. Got to take that into consideration.” He nodded toward the window. “Nice view out tonight.”
    Hesitantly, Alex moved to look outside, acutely conscious of the fact he ought to be dead but wasn’t. Far below were the lights of a major city. Beyond lay a broad, dark expanse. The Pacific Ocean. At least, he assumed it was the Pacific.
    “Where . . . where’s my town?”
    “Oh, I’m afraid that’s out of view now. Way behind us.”
    “It doesn’t feel like we’re moving very fast.”
    “Well at least something’s workin’ right. Physiologic support systems compensate for our acceleration. You’re right, though. We’re not moving very fast.”
    “Oh.” Alex had reached the point of not bothering to question the impossible, since he was living it.
    Something pushed him back in his seat for just a moment. When he could move again he took another look outside, wondering if he’d still be able to see the city. He could not, though he knew it had to be down below them somewhere.
    Down below them somewhere, on the Earth.
    He was surprised at how small and vulnerable it looked, the Earth. Even as he stared it was shrinking to a point, like a cartoon world vanishing on an animator’s drawing stand. Again he was jerked back into his seat. The next time he was able to move about and look outside, the Earth had disappeared. No sign of the moon, either.
    “Sorry about the stop and go acceleration, son,” Centauri apologized. “Transmission needs work.”
    Alex reached a decision, leaned forward and pounded insistently on the partition. “That’s enough,” he said, wondering if he sounded half as hysterical as he felt. “Take me back, take me home!”
    “Now don’t be in such an all-fired hurry, son. All in good time. Sit back and enjoy the ride.” Alex noticed his abductor was wiping at his face with a thin rag of metal mesh. When he turned to face Alex again he was still smiling.
    Only now his mouth was all wrong. In fact, his whole face was all wrong. Most especially his eyes were all wrong. They were much too big for the face, for any human face. But that was all right because the face they were attached to wasn’t in the least bit human. It was grotesque and distorted and resembled some of Louis’s wild scribbles, childish parodies of half-remembered nightmares.
    The creature that was Centauri continued to smile back at him as it gently polished its eyeballs.
    Alex’s fist froze halfway to the glass. All of a sudden he wasn’t so sure he wanted the glass partition to come down. He settled back in his seat to gape silently at the thing sitting in the pilot’s chair.
    Minutes passed. The creature used the metal rag on its face again. When it turned a second time, the familiar Centauri was smiling back at Alex.
    Some kind of optical illusion, Alex told himself. He had become very calm. Something that