Forbidden World

by Jeremy Michelson

Damn, good thing he hadn’t already gotten down to his skivvies already. The old man must have been sitting in the communications shack. Waiting.

  Not so patiently.

  “Well? Are you there yet?” Mattany demanded.

  Titus kept from rolling his eyes. Barely. He gave the General a sketchy salute. Screw him. He may have been his uncle, but he wasn’t in direct command of him. Technically he was on loan from Special Ops. The chain of command was a little bent at the moment.

  “We’re down,” Titus said, “Though it was a crappy landing. I’m not sure, but I think they broke the ship getting down on planet.”

  Mattany’s eyebrows went up. “You’re stuck there?”

  Titus shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, “The two of them aren’t exactly forthcoming.”

  Mattany went back to glaring. The screen was a little too life-like. He could see every pore on Mattany’s worn face.

  “I thought you were going to get in good with them,” Mattany said, “Make friends with them or whatever you ops guys do.”

  This time Mattany did get an eye roll.

  Guy didn’t know anything about Special Ops. Which was why he called in the experts instead of using one of the Space Corp dumbasses.

  “I’m running the op my way,” Titus said, “Don’t worry about it. They’ll be eating out of my hand in no time. The Chris guy had a very specific place he wanted to land this bucket, so I’m thinking paydirt is right around the corner.”

  Mattany ran a hand over his face. “God, I hope I didn’t make a horrible mistake,” he said, “Mary twisted my arm to get you this job…”

  “Mom? What does she have to do with anything?” Titus asked.

  Mattany shook his head. “Never mind. Just…keep your eyes, open. Can you do that?”

  Titus puffed up his chest. What the hell? The old man was acting like mom was the one who got him this job. It’s true she ran the Special Ops division. With an iron fist, he might add. But his record spoke for itself. He had a whole bunch of special commendations. Mom wouldn’t let him see them, of course. Because they were secret. But she wouldn’t lie to him. He was her special little boy.

  “Oh, they did run across one thing on the excursion today,” Titus said.

  Mattany straightened up. The old man’s eyes gleamed with undisguised lust.

  “What?”

  “They found a Don skull,” Titus said.

  Mattany held still for so long that Titus thought the picture had frozen. He almost reached to tap the screen when Mattany blinked.

  “A skull? From a Don?”

  “Yup. Creepy as hell,” Titus said.

  Mattany’s face reddened. “Call me when you find something useful,” he said.

  The screen snapped off, leaving a black slab.

  Well, that was rude.

  But then, Uncle Mattany was a general. They all had sticks up their asses. The old man would be a lot happier when Titus dumped a shitload of alien weapons at his feet.

  Plus the Dendon device.

  Without that pesky Chris attached to it.

  Seven

  Kawl Tejoh

  “Captain, I’m picking up a beacon.”

  Kawl Tejoh turned his command chair to face the sensor tech. He struggled to remember the man’s name. Tak? Sure, that was close enough. Tak it was.

  The command deck of Hojan’s Murder was a little too cramped for his taste. Like pretty much all of the ship. Dingy and old. The metal deck plates were worn shiny in places. The command seats were stained, the leather upholstery nearly worn through in places.

  The equipment was old and decrepit, too. Generations past its prime. It seemed like maintenance technicians were constantly on the command deck, fixing one thing or another.

  It was a disgrace for nobility such as him to be put in command of such a slovenly, decrepit ship. He deserved much better. Something more befitting an emperor. Something very large. With lots of guns. And an entire deck for his personal space. And another deck for his mating stock.

  Maybe another deck for his personal servants. After all, running an empire had to be stressful. Personal masseuses would need to be ready at all hours. A minimum of four to cover all shifts.

  “Captain?”

  Kawl held up his hand. The fantasy was much more enjoyable than reality. The stupid technician, whatever his stupid name was, would have to wait.

  Now where was he?

  A deck for his masseuses. And another deck for his personal cooks. And plenty of fresh livestock.

  Hmmm, it would need to be a very large ship.

  But, as emperor, it was his right. He’d just order his servants to build it. And when he was emperor, everyone would be his servant.

  “Sir?”

  Kawl gave the man a hateful glare.

  “What?”

  Tak the sensor technician bowed his head. As was proper, given his lowly station. Sensor technicians were plentiful. Though not at the moment on the Hojan’s Murder. And they were useful, supposedly. Killing Tak, if killing were warranted, would need to wait until they returned to Uvtoh’s Blood Station.

  “Sir, I’ve detected an emergency beacon. It’s very weak. From one of our ships,” Tak said.

  Kawl stared at the man for a few moments. Tak kept his head bowed. The tentacles sprouting from the sides of his head were thin and somewhat withered. His frame was narrow and his limbs had the stringy quality of those who were more interested in using their minds than fighting.

  Unlike proper Dons, for whom bloodlust and intrigue were as natural as breathing.

  Such weak creatures were disgusting. When he became emperor, he might order their execution.

  Though, on second thought, the weak stock did make good servants. It wouldn’t be wise to have all his masseuses filled with bloodlust.

  Being emperor might be more complicated than it looked at first glance.

  “Sir?”

  “What?”

  “The emergency beacon?”

  Kawl waved a long-fingered hand at the weakling.

  “What about it?”

  Tak let out a small sigh. Which might have been a killing offense if he wasn’t just a lowly sensor technician. And the ship’s only one at the moment.

  “The signal is from a Don vessel that disappeared a hundred and thirty-one years ago,” Tak said, “The last known location was in sector nine. On patrol near the Tann exclusion zone.”

  A shudder ran over Kawl. A pitiful display of weakness. But the Tann gave everyone the shivers. The reclusive race was supposedly one of the founding races of SixUnion. Though no one ever saw them.

  Though there had been…incidents.

  And now an antique ship had somehow drifted to the Dendon system?

  Unlikely.

  “How did it get here?” Kawl said.

  Tak shook his head, making his tentacles flap about his face.

  “I don’t have that information, Captain,” he said, “Do you wish to investigate?”

  Kawl grunted and turned back to the viewscreen. There wasn't anything to see, of course. Just darkness and little points of light. They were still a week out from Dendon. Damned the arrogant race for not sharing their faster than light drive.

  “Just file a report,” he said, “Someone else can look into it later.”

  "But, Captain, is it not our job to…"

  Kawl turned and fixed him with a freezing glare. Tak ducked his head again. Spun around and bent to the sensor controls.

  Maybe the little sensor tech weakling would need some killing after all. Kawl turned his gaze on the other crew at their stations. All fixedly kept their eyes on their instruments.

  Good. Insubordination led to inferiors thinking they were equal or better than the elite. Which led to all sorts of bad things happening.

  But not on his ship.

  Eight

  Chris

  Oh man, how much more of this guy could we take?

  It had been two–extremely frustrating–days in th
e dead capital city of the dead world of Dendon. After a couple weeks cooped up in a spaceship that stunk like rancid cat food, we were more than ready to be done with this mission.

  And that wasn’t factoring in the colossally annoying turbo douche-nozzle that was Titus Tavin. A.K.A.: T&T.

  Because, you know, he’s dynamite.

  If I had a stick of dynamite, I’d put it in a place where the sun didn’t shine on him, and light the fuse.

  It was all I could do to keep Liz from ripping his arms off and beating him to death with them.

  And that wasn’t figurative, either.

  We were supposed to be looking for weapons of mass destruction and other related goodies that the murdered Dendon people might have left lying around after their bodies turned to dust.

  At least, that’s what General Mattany back on Earth had ordered us to look for. Liz and I were here for other reasons that had nothing to do with weapons.

  Actually I wasn't sure why we were here. The Dendon device inside me had pulled me toward its dead homeworld. So far it wasn't telling me why.

  And it was pretty obvious Dendon had been looted by at least one of the other races. We’d already found one Don skull. Though, we hadn’t found the rest of the body. There shouldn’t have been any predators to carry off the bones. Maybe the Don’s buddies had taken it?

  Or maybe something else.

  The city was dead. The atmosphere thin and not capable of sustaining life.

  But we were getting hints something was in the city besides us.

  Liz said the city was haunted.

  I’m not sure she was wrong.

  Nine

  Chris

  Dim light came through the triangular windows set high on the curved ceiling of cavernous hall. Liz walked ahead of me, covered in her golden armor. She had one hand held out in front of her. Bright light beamed from her palm. Another nifty feature of her armor.

  Her other arm was held ready, elbow bent up. It had another nifty feature. A built-in plasma blaster. Fully charged. The hum of it cut through the silence.

  Through my energy shield, I caught the ozone scent of it. Along with a sort of spicy mustiness. It worried me a little that I could still smell things through the shield. If smells could get through, what else could?

  The Dendon device inside me didn’t deign to answer.

  Like usual.

  Shadows moved over the windows, dimming the light.

  Clouds of dust. From the wind that never seemed to stop blowing. The constant rustle and rasp against the ship's hull invaded my sleep at night. I dreamed about slogging through endless deserts, wind-driven sand stinging my bare face.

  In my dreams, I kept seeing distant figures. Tall, slender figures.

  This planet was seriously creeping me out.

  “Holy crap, what you suppose this dump was for?” T&T said.

  He was bringing up the rear. Which was fitting, since he was such an ass.

  Liz and I ignored him.

  Tried to.

  “I mean, this place is huge,” T&T said, “Put some nice, soft carpet down in here…just imagine the kind of orgies these freaks must have had in here.”

  Liz spun around. Shined her light directly in his eyes.

  “Hey!”

  “You need to shut up,” Liz said.

  T&T grinned. “Just trying to lighten the mood, sweets.”

  The hum on her plasma blaster went a notch higher. For a second I thought she was really going to do it.

  A part of me really wished she would…No. Don’t. Stop. Don’t stop. No, don’t stop.

  People like T&T were why pacifism was so hard.

  Not that I was a pacifist. I just preferred not to fight if I could find alternatives.

  Liz must have decided the jerk wasn’t worth it. I was almost disappointed when she spun away and stalked off toward the end of the great hall.

  T&T came up beside me. “Look at that ass,” he said, “Magnificent.”

  He was correct, her ass was indeed magnificent. However, Liz was magnificent in mind, body, and spirit. Magnificent was a word that went with everything she did and everything she was.

  A piece of ass, she was not.

  I sighed and turned to the total ass beside me.

  “Listen,” I said, “I get it. You like to be creepy and weird. That’s fine. To each their own. However, if you ever talk about Liz like that in my presence again, I will use my alien superpowers to turn you an overweight, tri-sexual Blinky with bowel control issues and uncontrollable crotch rash.”

  T&T blinked a few times. “You can do that?” He said.

  “How badly do you want to find out?” I said.

  Before he could answer–or laboriously think about it–I turned and stalked away.

  No, that wasn’t something I could do. But if the idea kept that dipwad’s mouth shut…

  A few seconds later, his feet began slapping the stone floor behind me. Coming along. Darn it.

  I forced him out of my mind and turned my attention to the great hall. I knew exactly what this place was. Though I wasn’t going to tell dinglefritz behind me.

  We had spent most of three days climbing the great white tower that was the seat of the kingdom. And no, the elevators weren't working. It was probably a little much to ask of them after sitting for a couple thousand years.

  So far we hadn’t found anything of use. Like any bureaucracy, there were lots of office type rooms with desks and chairs. The Dendon had probably long since transitioned from hard copies of their reports and files. There were various flat, tablet-like things on the desks, that we guessed were computers. But of course none of them worked.

  The thing that disturbed me the most were the piles of dust in the offices.

  Piles of grayish-black dust on the chairs. On the floors by the doors. In the hallways.

  Dendon people. Reduced to base components by the Don’s makers.

  People in the capital had either been caught unaware. Or they had stayed to the end, trying to find some way to help their people.

  It made me shudder to think of their ghosts. Wandering these halls and offices forever. Were they still looking for their families?

  Your imagination runs away with you.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. The Dendon. Now he chooses to speak up?

  So, come on, buddy, why are we here? What am I supposed to be looking for?

  But all I got back was silence.

  Figures.

  Liz had stopped ahead of me, toward the end of the hall. She was running the beam of her flashlight hand over something. I quickened my pace and quickly caught up.

  It was a huge chair on a pedestal.

  Also commonly known as a throne.

  “Man, that guy must have had a huuuuu-ge ass,” T&T said.

  Sigh.

  We could probably make it look like an accident. Heck, we probably didn’t even need to do that. Just kill him, shoot his body into the sun while we left the system. Tell Mattany he slipped and fell and broke his stupid neck.

  It was a possibility.

  A strong possibility.

  "I think it was more ceremonial than functional," I said, "The king would have only used it for formal state occasions, I imagine."

  “Yeah, I imagine his ass was like big enough to have its own gravity field,” T&T said, “Probably had moons orbiting it, you know?”

  I tried to ignore him. I moved closer to Liz. She had her light shining on the back of the throne. Had she found something?

  She had.

  The throne was a tall, wide, blocky sort of thing without any ornamentation on it. It actually seemed strangely out of place in the ethereal, delicate architecture of the rest of the building. The Dendon people had good taste. They liked to make beautiful things. The throne was kind of ugly. Perhaps deliberately so.

  I asked my fountain of Dendon knowledge if that was true.

  And was rewarded with more silence.

  I kind of hoped the Dendon dev
ice in me would be a little more forthcoming. Heck, I’d hoped it would be our tour guide. Showing us the sights, telling us where all the goodies were. After all, wasn’t it the repository of all knowledge on Dendon?

  Hmmm?

  I felt something stirring within me. A wave of heat washed over me. My skin tingled.

  I am entrusted with the knowledge of Dendon.

  Hey, it could speak. Yay.

  However, I am not at liberty to disclose classified information.

  Well, crap.

  Only the king of Dendon is allowed to access all my information.

  Double crap. There wasn't any king of Dendon anymore. All the Dendon people are dead, remember? You had to glom on to me as a substitute, remember?

  I am unable to forget that knowledge. As yet, there is no king. The challenges must be taken and won.

  What!?!

  I carefully considered the Dendon’s words. As yet…challenges…taken…won.

  And what I came up with was a giant poop sandwich. On moldy bread.

  “Chris?” Liz said.

  I jerked, startled out of my mini-trance.

  “Was it talking to you?” She asked.

  I nodded.

  T&T moved in suddenly. His narrowed eyes glinted in the light pouring from Liz’s armored hand.

  “What did it say?” he asked, “Did it tell you where the weapons are? There’s got to be secret sites on this dump that didn’t get looted. That thing in you knows where they are, doesn’t it?”

  He crowded so close I could smell his rank aftershave through my energy shield. Did the idiot splash some on the outside of his environmental suit?

  Liz extended her arm and gently pushed him away with her golden armored forearm.

  “It say anything useful?” she asked.

  She was well aware of the Dendon device’s verbal unhelpfulness. When it wasn’t being silent, it was being cryptic. Or insulting.

  But this time, it had given me an important clue. One that gave me an answer why it wasn’t as helpful as it could be.

  It was quite simple.

  “It said only the king can access the information it has,” I said.