Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets: The Official Movie Novelization

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Laureline emerged from the deactivated sulfate pipe in Level 630 East, leading with her gun, to find herself in a gully alongside a precipice. She approached the edge quickly but carefully and peered down into a bottomless blackness intermittently illuminated by a few skittering, phosphorescent butterflies lighting up the stretch of wall. They were beautiful and magical-looking, their fluttering wings painted in softly glowing shades of magenta, violet, and midnight blue.

“Valerian?” Laureline called. Her voice echoed and suddenly she wondered if yelling had been the smartest thing to do. But if he could answer her…

She heard only the dying echo of her own voice, and then silence in response.

This was the right place, she was sure of it. She hadn’t noticed the butterflies specifically, but she’d seen Valerian’s form and the wreckage of the Sky Jet lit up by their luminescence. And she’d had the converter reproduce enough diamonds to be sure that the map the Doghan Daguis had provided her was accurate. Valerian had been in pretty bad shape in her vision. She could only hope he would hang on until she could reach him.

She fished in her kit until she found a slender but strong line of cable attached to a piton. With a firm shove, Laureline autoset the piton into the rock, tugged to make sure it was secure, then carefully rappelled down the black, nearly vertical rock face. She kept going until her feet touched a ledge that jutted out about ten feet from the wall. With a flick of her wrist, the line detached, and she quickly wound it up and returned it to her kit. The stone beneath her feet was slick, and she moved carefully along the ledge in search of her partner. Now and then a butterfly would waft air against her cheek, a feather-light little kiss; it was a strange pleasantness in this moment of fear and worry.

The ledge curved and then deepened into a cave. Laureline shone a light ahead, gasped. She had found the Sky Jet—at least, what was left of it. She pressed her lips together in a grim line, chasing away the fear that would weaken her, and called out again. “Valerian?”

No answer. She hastened to the wreckage as swiftly as she dared. On the far side, she found him.

Valerian was sprawled on the ground, his suit torn and bloody. Laureline ran to him, dropping to her knees beside him.

“Valerian! I’m here!” She placed her gun on the ground and frantically searched in her kit. She pulled out a compact first aid system, eased her hand around the back of his head, and slipped it into his mouth. Its red light turned blue, as a mini cartridge pumped in the prescribed medication.

“Wake up, Valerian… please!”

Nothing. The seconds ticked by. Had she come too late? The kit was good, but—

His eyes flew open and he sat up, coughing and spitting. Relief washed through her, so powerful it made her weak. Her face hurt, and she realized it was because she couldn’t stop smiling. She touched his cheek and impulsively leaned in, pressed her lips to his, and kissed him hard.

He sat there for a second, utterly taken by surprise, then returned the kiss. When she pulled back, though, he stared at her in confusion.

“Laureline! What are you doing here?”

“I came to get you,” she said. “You totaled your Sky Jet. Remember?” She jerked her head in the direction of the wreckage.

Valerian blinked, still slightly dazed. “Yeah… I… I lost it in a curve.”

“You nearly died, you mean,” Laureline replied, unable to smother her grin. She couldn’t take her hands or her eyes off him, and she didn’t want to. This had hit her too hard. “It’s lucky I found you!”

Memory seemed to be returning to him in fits and spurts. “What about the commander?” Valerian asked. “Do we know where he is?”

“No sign of him,” Laureline answered. “Their spaceship disappeared in the red zone. We couldn’t track it or him.”

Valerian nodded. “Okay. Sounds like we have no time to waste. Let’s go.” He hauled himself stiffly to his feet.

Laureline remained kneeling on the hard rock, staring at him, utterly taken aback as he made his way to the wreckage to recover what he could. For a moment she couldn’t even form words. Then, she said, “Is that all?”

He turned back to peer down at her. Damn him, he wasn’t even extending a hand to help her up. “Why?”

“No ‘thank you,’ no ‘you did great, Laureline?”’

Valerian’s face melted into his old familiar, smartass grin. He strode over to her, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her on the lips. She was just melting into it when he pulled back, cupped her face with his hands, and said, very sincerely, “Thanks.”

And then he added, “But I’d have done the same for you.”

Laureline’s eyes narrowed and she felt the heat of absolute fury rise in her cheeks. Valerian flashed a smile, and dodged the slap she aimed at him.

She thought about everything she’d endured—the smelly pirate, nearly getting gobbled by Bromosaurs, the clammy stickiness of the jellyfish enclosing half her body, the risk of nearly having her memories eaten by it—

Laureline wanted to tell him, in excruciating detail, but she couldn’t even think that clearly right now, and so all that came out was, “You are such a jack ass!”

“Hey, chill,” Valerian said, laughing a little. He was enjoying this! He reached down to pick up the gun she’d placed on the rocky surface and tucked it into his belt. “I trusted you, even more than I trust myself. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No!”

Valerian ducked another swing, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “You are an amazing woman, Laureline. Why do you think I want to marry you?”

“Why would I marry a conceited, ungrateful—”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, “probably because you can’t live without him. I mean, look, whenever he wanders out of your sight, you chase after him!”

His ego and audacity left Laureline speechless. He leaned in for another kiss, but she was having none of it. She turned her head and stiff-armed him away. When he stepped back, she graced him with the coldness of her blue eyes. Icily, she said, “We have a mission to finish, Major. Remember?”

Valerian sighed and dropped his arms. Then he lifted them in a you win gesture as he returned to scavenge the Sky Jet. They would need weapons where they were going.

Laureline turned away, gazing out into the cavern that opened before them. One hand reached into the carrier attached to her belt to pat the converter, as much to comfort herself as him. He nibbled delicately on her fingers, and she smiled.

“Didn’t you say the girl in your dreams had a converter like this little fellow?” Laureline asked. She gave the converter’s scaly back a final stroke, then closed the container securely.

“That’s right,” Valerian answered, his back to her as he rummaged.

A butterfly landed on Laureline’s hand. It was so beautiful—so delicate, and fragile, and the colors so vivid. It had a sort of tail, too; a long, wavy tendril that swayed and undulated behind it. She watched it as it slowly closed and opened its wings, keeping her hand still so as not to frighten it.

“So, if the converter is native to their planet,” she continued, “it’s fairly understandable that they want to retrieve the last living specimen, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” agreed Valerian, “and they probably kidnapped the commander because they thought he was carrying it on him.”

“And when they found out he wasn’t, I’ll be the next one on their list,” Laureline said. The butterfly stayed where it was, and despite her annoyance with Valerian’s most recent display of reliably boorish behavior, she smiled. There was still beauty in the universe.

“Don’t worry,” Valerian reassured her. “I’m not letting you go anywhere!”

She sighed, and let her resentment go. “I’m not letting you go anywhere!”

She heard him chuckle. All was well between them again. “I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead and not comment on that,” he said.

“O-ho, you’re learning wisdom to go along with those gray hairs,” Laureline teased.

“One,” he retorted. “You found one.”

Laureline continued to regard the beautiful insect that had graced her with its presence. She smiled at it. “Pretty butterflies here,” she said.

“Sure,” he said absently, “but don’t let them touch you, whatever you do.”

Laureline’s smile bled from her face. “Why not?” Her voice was strained.

The butterfly closed and opened its wings.

She stood perfectly still.

“Because,” he said, turning to address her, “some of them are—” His eyes widened. “No!”

He lunged toward her, but it was too late. In a flash, the butterfly’s deceptively delicate “tail” wrapped itself around Laureline’s hand, and she was yanked over the edge of the precipice.

Valerian rushed over to see Laureline dangling by her wrist on the end of long, glowing violet tendril, swinging over the seemingly infinite drop. His gaze followed the line about a hundred and fifty feet up to see an enormous, lumpy, only-vaguely humanoid creature sitting on the edge of another precipice, swinging its ugly legs and holding onto what looked terribly like a human fishing pole.

And now, it was reeling Laureline in, reaching out with a powerful hand to grab her like a doll and bellowing happily as it displayed her to its compatriots also fishing on the edge of the canyon, who made admiring little yelps.

Valerian drew his gun and took aim, then abruptly realized that if he killed the creature, it would likely let go of the pole… and Laureline. He swore softly and took a breath.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered. Valerian holstered his gun, took a running leap, and threw himself into the void to catch a butterfly.

His hands closed tight around one.

Please don’t be real. Please don’t be real.

It wasn’t. It, too, was a lure, which meant that he wasn’t about to plunge to his death after leaping to grab a damned butterfly.

The decoy wrapped its “tail” firmly around his waist and Valerian was yanked upwards so fast he could barely breathe. He was reeled in and brought within a few feet of a hideous, froglike face whose downturned mouth opened in an ear-shattering shriek of presumed joy. Red, glowing eyes with barely discernable slitted pupils blinked rapidly as the eight-foot-tall Boulan-Bathor hauled in what surely had to be the finest catch of the day.

He plunked Valerian down on the ledge and reached out with a net. But Valerian gave him a lopsided grin and lifted his gun.

“Sorry,” he shouted, “I’m inedible!”

He abandoned the very messy headless corpse of his giant would-be captor, and ran in the direction of where he’d seen Laureline disappear. Unfortunately, it looked as though Valerian’s partner had been the last catch of the day. Her fisherman had placed a large circular basket that appeared to be fashioned of twisted metal bands on his back and was moving toward the large gate that marked Boulan-Bathor territory. Valerian caught a fleeting glimpse of Laureline in the basket. As expected, she was ranting at her alien captor while at the same time attempting to find a weakness in the curving cage that held her prisoner.

Valerian ran as fast as he could, his legs pumping, but the fisherman had a head start and those froggy legs could move pretty damn fast. The huge steel door was opened to admit the fisherman, and Valerian skidded to a halt when he saw a dozen guards bristling with spears and pikes.

Valerian veered sharply to the right, hiding behind a jutting piece of black rock and watched, sickened, as the fisherman—and Laureline—were admitted inside and the gate closed with a terrible finality.

His beloved was trapped inside the Boulan-Bathor palace. And there was nothing he could do.