The Forever Enemy (The Forever Series Book 2)

by Craig Robertson

  “Remember what Tho said,” Toño recalled, “just before we disappeared. She said, ‘You hide in a Deavoriath vessel and now you fire their gamma-ray laser!’ She recognized this to be a Deavoriath vessel. Vortex manipulator, are you a Deavoriath vessel?” Toño sounded quite proud of himself.

  “No, I am not. I'm a vortex…”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Toño backpedaled, “I misspoke. Sorry. Vortex manipulator, is this cube a Deavoriath vessel?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so. The cube houses the vortex manipulator, and combined, they constitute a Deavoriath vessel, yes.”

  Nit-picky manipulator, wasn't he? “So, let me sum this up. You snapped your fingers—don't take that literally, we'll be here all day—and we ended up in what remains of Lubbock, Texas. The Uhoor are still back on Azsuram, presumably confused and possibly ripping Al and my ship to shreds?”

  “Chances are good they are attacking something. Very irritable creatures, those Uhoor. Personally, I've never been a big fan. Doubt they're surprised, however. I, myself, have vanished before their eyes a dozen times. They're probably used to it by now.”

  That was so wrong, what the wall just said. “Can you kill the Uhoor?”

  “I think, Form,” the voice began, “you'll be a lot happier, at the end of the thing, if you rephrase that question. I hate to give the impression that…”

  “Can I order the death of the Uhoor and have this vortex accomplish that task?”

  “Bravo, Form! I must say you…”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Yes, this vortex has killed thousands of Uhoor. Our gamma-ray laser is much larger than yours. It vaporizes a six-square-meter path in them with each shot.”

  “Take us back to Azsuram, now.”

  There was that chorus of “what?” again.

  The nausea cleared more quickly the second trip. The Uhoor were in about the same location they'd been when we split. I picked up the microphone. “Hi, Tho. Did you miss me while I was gone?”

  Her howl was angry, primal, and angry.

  “I'll take that as a yes!” I could be such a jerk. “Look, sweet sausage, I'll make this simple. I am a Form. I will vaporize you and your friends if you do not shut up immediately. No second warning.”

  She fell silent right away. “That's much better. Now look, I don't want to kill you or your pod. I want to be left in peace here on this planet. I also will ask you to leave my species, in fact, all other species, alone. Can you do that, Tho?”

  There was a short pause. I got the impression she didn't like having her nose rubbed in the sand. Tough luck. She attacked my family. “Yes.”

  “A woman of few words. How differently refreshing in the universe.”

  “Your sarcasm is neither necessary nor appreciated,” she replied. Prissy bitch, wasn't she?

  “It might not be, but I'm rather enjoying it, Mary Poppins. Here's the bottom line: I want you to imagine this galaxy as a pizza.” I held my hands up to indicate a circle. “We are currently here.” I pointed to a spot near the outer edge of the circle, roughly corresponding to our radius from the galactic center. “Draw, in your mind's eye, a diameter thus.” I sliced the pizza in half, such that our location was as far from the diameter-line as possible. “This is your half of the pizza.” I indicated the half that did not contain our location. “This is everybody else's half.” I swept my hand across the half of the circle that did include our location.

  “If you and all other Uhoor stay in your half of the pizza, I won't kill you. If any of you are in our section…excuse me, vortex manipulator?”

  “Form?”

  “How long will it take the furthest of the Uhoor to cross over to that side of the circle?”

  “You mean pizza?”

  Did this machine come off the same assembly line as Al? “Whatever.”

  “In Uhoor units, ninety-four goar.”

  “If any of you remain in our section in ninety-four goar, I'll kill them. Any questions?”

  “None, Form. I will say for your ears to hear, you are every bit as cruel and vicious as your Deavoriath ancestors. One day, I will have the pleasure of killing you and any lingering Deavoriath. It may not be soon, but you have an enemy who will not quit and who will not tire. The suffering your race has inflicted upon mine must be answered for.”

  “You done, cupcake?” I asked. “Because I'm suddenly very tired of looking at your ugly face. Turn, run, and remember: ninety-four goar, and not one goar more.” I made a shooing motion with the back of my hands. They all turned and floated out of my life. Well, hopefully, at least for a good long while. It feels so nice to win and even better not to lose.

  FORTY-THREE

  “So, we have a pretty darn cool new toy,” I said around the conference table.

  “Oh, Pillars of Faith, you don't need any more.” Aren't spouses supposed to be supportive? Maybe Sapale was due for a refresher course? “You're positively impossible, already.”

  “I must side with your brood-mate, on this rare occasion, Sapale. Too many toys is oxymoronic.”

  Thank you, my oldest friend, Toño.

  “I suppose you're pleased too,” she asked of Marshall.

  “I'm a politician. I know when it's best to dodge a barbed question.”

  JJ cut in excitedly. “I love the new one! Instant anywhere. Oh, man!” He reflected a moment. “Hey, Dad, do you think it can travel in time too? You know, like a TARDIS?”

  “I hope to never know, son. Time travel may be more than I can get my head around.”

  “No, it would be totally cool.”

  “I called you all here to discuss our next move,” I said. “I think we're pretty much committed to helping the people on the worldships the crazy Marshall stole.”

  “Why?” asked Sapale. “For once, we're safe, will be left alone, and can grow in peace. I say stay here and tend to our own garden.”

  I pointed to Marshall. “What about this guy?”

  “He can stay and work like the rest of us, or Toño can stuff him into one of those torpedo shuttles and mail him to the UN.”

  “Stuff me into a what?” Marshall said with focused interest.

  “Hang on,” I said. “She's just thinking out loud. No one's decided to stuff you into anything. Not yet.”

  “That will be a matter to vote on,” said Toño. “I suggest everyone at this table get one vote.”

  That meant Marshall too. I wasn't so keen on that. “Okay. Let's vote and see. All in favor of helping the people on the stolen worldships, raise your hand.” Everyone but Sapale raised a hand. “The ayes have it. So, how're we going to help?”

  “Jon,” said Marshall, “I know you don't like me very much. I get that. But I'd like to suggest a plan of action, if that's alright with you.”

  Sapale was miffed. “Jon's not in charge. You can tell the rest of us if my brood-mate won't listen.”

  “I never…” Sapale raised a hand to silence me. She nodded to Stuart.

  “This entire mess is my fault; I freely admit it. I want to make it right, if that's even possible. I've studied all the records from when I've been…gone. I especially studied the message he sent to you, Jon. I hatched a plan. Now, it's not a great one. Hell, it's probably not even a good one, but I'll be taking all the risks.”

  I had on my poker face, but I asked him to continue.

  “You get me to Enterprise, and I'll do the rest.”

  “That's it? That's your whole plan?” questioned Toño.

  “Yes. I told you it wasn't stellar.”

  “You can say that again,” barked JJ. Good boy!

  “Look,” added Marshall, “I have a significant advantage if I show up unannounced. The current Stuart Marshall looks like you, Jon. I look like…us, you know? Anyone standing by him based on old loyalties will immediately come over to my side.”

  Toño was unconvinced. “Not necessarily.”

  “Well, then my plan won't take too long, and I’ll end up dead, right?”

 
Al spoke up. “That's exceedingly likely. Shall I put a number to the odds?”

  “No thanks, son. Don't jinx the plan before it has a chance to fall flat on its face based on its own merits. Look,” he said mostly to me, “It takes you, what, ten minutes to take me there, drop me off, and be home in time for tea. What do you have to lose?”

  “To be honest, the risk of inflicting a second problem upon humanity.”

  “You don't have much confidence in me.”

  “Less than none.”

  “Look, I said I understood where you're coming from. But, know this. I was president of the US because I was a good leader and a sufficient man. Not a good one, mind you, but neither was I a bad one. I see where I went wrong, and I want to make it right. Plus, you can't think I'd be worse than the android running the show now, can you?”

  “Why is it I don't think that?” I wasn't buying what he was peddling.

  “Valid point, but let's ask De Jesus. He knew me well. If he thinks I'd be a greater threat than the current Stuart Marshall, I'll shut my trap. But, if he believes I'll do what I say, then you give me a chance.”

  I turned my head to Toño. “You comfortable with that?”

  He shrugged. “That's a lot of pressure, but yes. I think we should allow him an attempt to set matters straight.”

  “And if he double-crosses us?”

  “Then we'll have one more enemy a long way away.” He shrugged again. “Not a very exclusive club.”

  Sapale laughed. JJ started to also. I had to join in. “What the hell? One more mortal enemy is no big deal.” I turned to Marshall. “Let me know when you're ready, and we're off.”

  “No time like the present,” he said without blinking.

  “Huh?”

  “That way I won't get a chance to come to my senses and back out.”

  Within an hour, our crew was set. I was included, obviously. I was Form, or a Form—hadn't got the full scoop on that title yet. Sapale had to stay with the kids, though I could see in her eyes that she really wanted to come. Marshall was part of the trip—again, duh. Toño was welcome to join us, but I was glad when he deferred. I preferred that Sapale have another adult around if there was trouble. I might only be gone only a little while, but I'd be months away in terms of radio contact. That meant JJ could come, which he was dying to do. He and I went heavily armed. We felt like real cowboys.

  The three of us climbed aboard the vortex, I connected to the ship, and we were gone. I'd arranged for all four walls to be transparent. That way, wherever we popped up in relationship to Enterprise, we could see her. I thought of putting her directly in one of the large hangars, but the chatty voice couldn't guarantee we wouldn't land on someone, coming from that distance. We'd play it the way I liked it—by ear.

  In less time than it took to say, “I'm nauseated,” we were staring off the port at Enterprise, in all her glory. She was big.

  “Do you,” I asked the manipulator—whom I formally renamed Manly, which he hated more than kids do broccoli— “have a fix on the android Marshall and a clear area near him to set down?”

  “Set down what,” was Manly's confused response.

  “It's an aviation term. It means to land.”

  “Not,” Manly shared, “where I come from. And yes to both. Marshall is currently in his stateroom, horizontally positioned over a female of…”

  “That’s enough detail,” I blurted out. I almost put my hands over JJ’s ears, but he’d have killed me if I had. “Put us close. Any guards?”

  “None inside the quarters where we'll set down. Many are stationed just outside.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Can you lock all of his doors, so they can't get in if he screams?”

  There was a minor delay. “I rocketed you thorough space and time in an instant, I provided you a detailed map of the target, including personnel, and I have kept us invisible to the ship's scanners. What do you think, Form?”

  “Please lock his doors once we're inside.”

  “By your command.” I needed to talk to him about that also. Too close to a catchphrase from an old sci-fi series I watched while traveling alone to Barnard's Star.

  We materialized inside Marshall's laundry room. Okay, not the triumphant beachhead landing of legend, but certainly no one was watching it. As we stepped out of the vortex, we could plainly hear two voices. One, Marshall's, was hooting about the level of fun he was having and promising to have a lot more, real soon. The other voice was, sadly, the girl's. She wasn't a voluntary participant in the proceedings. I was glad we were about to upset that crazy android fundamentally.

  Our mission was not without risk. The android might be armed, and JJ was vulnerable. I had him trail directly behind me, with the other android Marshall immediately behind him. In a flash, we were in, two rail rifles were pressed uncomfortably hard against Marshall's head, and the other Marshall was slipping the girl—sixteen if she was a day—out from under his namesake and covering her with a blanket. I'd assigned that role to him and reminded him that, in spite of her protestations, she could be on the bad android's side, so keep a close eye on her. Maybe the evil Marshall liked to have his playthings make believe they were under duress. Best to take as few chances as possible in a military operation.

  I have to say, I'd had many a bad surprise in the last century, and many occasions disappointed me completely. This was not one of them. The look in his eye when he saw, in the following order, the guns, me, and then Marshall, was worth the price of admission. His first words, spoken while still prone in bed, were perfect too.

  “What are you doing?”

  What were we doing? With rifles to his head and where it was impossible for us to be, and he wondered, what? That this was this a social call? A practical joke? A fraternity initiation prank?

  “Dry cleaners, sir. Did you want medium starch in your collars? You left the box blank.” Did I have to say that? No. Was it absolutely choice? Yeah, baby! I rapped his head with my barrel. “Up, Romeo. You're done.”

  Now, I will have to admit, that was an oversight on my part. Call it an unforeseen glitch, a snafu. You see, I've never had to train a weapon on a naked man with a prodigious erection. It's not as easy as one might imagine. Yeah? Try it sometime if you think I'm being maudlin.

  “Ah, JJ, hand him his robe, over there.”

  The even harder part of what I was doing was I'd never pointed a gun at myself. Weird City! Boy, oh boy, did he look like me.

  “Let's stroll nice and slow to your laundry room, shall we?” I waved my gun in that direction.

  Evil Stuart was beginning to come out of shock. “I know what you're trying to do, and I promise you…” His next pseudo-word was coooplahh. That was the sound he produced when good Stuart punched him in the belly. Nice!

  Our Stuart pointed menacingly at the android on the floor. “Not another word.” I do believe he meant what he said.

  I opened the vortex, and we all stepped in. “Change of plans. Manly?”

  “Yes, Form?”

  “I'm leaving this android in your care. If he does anything even mildly annoying, evaporate him or something.”

  “If you really…”

  “Silence.” I liked saying that to Manly.

  I didn't dare leave JJ inside with the android, sealed in the cube. Something bad could happen, and I'd never forgive myself if it did. So I confined Marshall all by his lonesome.

  I opened the main entrance, stuck my head out, and told the nearest guard to fetch my chief of staff, immediately. He actually sprinted away.

  Two minutes later, I kid you not, he returned, jogging, pushing Marilyn Monroe in front of himself. He was slowed significantly by the height of her heels. Man, she looked nice running!

  “Yes, Mr. President? I thought this was your recreation hour, so I was elsewhere. What can I do for you?” Marilyn Monroe asked what she could do for me. Oh, how I wish I had it on holo!

  “I’ll make a formal address to my people from my quarters. Make
it happen in ten minutes or you’re…well, you’re in trouble.” I fingered his chin. “You got that, son? Oh, and live transmission will be sent to all ten thousand worldships. Make sure you include that, or there’ll be heel to pay…I mean hell to pay.”

  “Ah, yes…sir. I'll get a camera crew and lighting up here immediately.”

  “I don't want it immediately, son. I want it in less than ten minutes.” I slammed the door shut.

  “What the hell are you doing, Ryan?” Marshall seemed confused. Good.

  In six minutes, the holo crew was set up and ready. All channels were preempted for my statement. JJ hid in a closet, trying not to sneeze. I took Marshall's elbow and pulled him close. “Follow my lead. You'll know when it's time to take the reins. After I step out, JJ and I will be in the cube.” I pointed to a spot in the next room. “Wait there.”

  I opened JJ's closet door. “When you hear me say the words “the blessed fruits of American fortitude” go to the cube and get evil Marshall. Stand him right where the good Marshall was before I called him into the main room. I'll leave a single filament in contact, so we can time your removal of the evil Marshall. You got that?” He nodded nervously. “If Marshall tries anything, blast him, and son? Always shoot to kill.” I started to walk away. “Oh, and the secure word between you and me is 'calrf.' Say it back.” He did. “If you're confused as the which one's me, challenge me. Please shoot the one with the wrong answer immediately.”

  JJ looked green around the gills. He was taking in a lot and was, hopefully, scared out of his mind. But he was one of the future leaders of Azsuram and might as well learn in a trial-by-fire how to be strong.

  “One last thing,” I said to him, “I love you, and you can do this.”

  “That's two things, General Ryan.” Good boy!

  I returned to the living room and sat behind an ornate desk. Without asking, the camera crew scurried to frame their shot. “Can you boys go for a walk if I need you to follow me somewhere?”

  The director swallowed nervously. “Yes, Mr. President. There may be a few shaky frames, but it'll be no problem.”