Forbidden World

by Jeremy Michelson

  But I wasn’t done. The armor was healed, but the life inside it was still bleeding to death. I needed that armor to pull back so I could get the med unit working on her.

  I tried to pour more energy into the armor. Commanding it to return to the disk.

  Another rippled passed over the armor.

  But it stayed stubbornly in place.

  “No!” I shouted.

  You do not have enough reserves.

  “No! I’m still standing!” I shouted (weakly), “Take everything!”

  Then what would you have to help her?

  An excellent question. Unfortunately my panic and hunger fogged mind wasn’t working on logic. Otherwise it might have found the answer a lot sooner.

  A King commands all resources within his grasp. His will is a force unto itself.

  Which sounded like more stupidity.

  But…resources.

  “Idiot!” I shouted.

  To myself.

  I kept my hand on Liz. But I twisted around. Metal. I needed bare metal.

  The table was metal, but it was isolated from the floor by motion dampeners. It wouldn’t do me any good.

  The blackness was closing in on me. My sight was distant circles at the end of long, black tunnels.

  There!

  Next to the med-scanner. One of the ship’s metal ribs.

  My hand shot out. Fingers clenched cold metal.

  I sent my failing consciousness out into the ship. Found the network of wiring. Traced it to the engine pack at the back of the ship. Where the L-drive sat, quietly producing power in its idle state.

  I tapped into that power. Stepped up the L-drive’s production. Carefully, keeping it well below the danger zone. Too much power and the drive might phase.

  And take a big chunk of the planet with it.

  Another reason the Dendons hadn’t wanted the other races to get the faster than light drive…

  The thing was incredibly dangerous if used incorrectly. Connected to a planetary mass…well…

  But there was more than enough power to charge me back up.

  I straightened up, power surging through me. The darkness in my vision fell back. Everything suddenly seemed brighter. Even as the lights in the medical bay dimmed and flickered.

  I sent power down into Liz’s armor.

  It rippled. Then pulled away from her feet. Slipped away from her hands. Slid up her legs and arms. Revealed smooth, bronzed skin.

  And blood.

  The armor returned to its innocent looking disk below the hollow of her throat. I gasped with relief.

  Then my body clenched in horror at the amount of blood pooling on the table. It ran down her leg and side. Drained from her hand and dripped from the sides of the metal table.

  “Oh god,” I said.

  With my hand still clenching the metal frame of the ship, I commanded the med-scanner to come to life. It moved out of its cubby and extended out over Liz.

  It did a quick evaluation, pronouncing her to be in critical condition.

  No kidding.

  I tripped it into emergency mode.

  Thin metal arms extended from beneath the med-scanner. Two of the arms reached for the cabinet of medicines, pulling out ampules of drugs and bandages.

  Four other arms got to work, cleaning and sealing wounds while another two arms started an IV and injected drugs into her system.

  I started to take my hand from her chest.

  No. Keep physical contact.

  The Dendon again.

  “Why?”

  I am communicating with my progeny.

  “What!”

  During your mating acts, since you were already transporting material to her, I have used to opportunity to place makers within your bodyguard–or should I say, Queen, in order to facilitate healing and physical enhancement within her.

  I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Shocked? Offended? Grateful?

  There was a whole lot going on there.

  But I kept my hand over the gold disk on her chest. My hand grew hot. Almost burning hot.

  The Blinky med-scanner slowed its ministrations. Blood had stopped flowing. The wounds were closed with medical adhesive.

  But already I could see the skin starting to heal.

  Liz had the accelerated healing like I had.

  Similar, but not quite as advanced as yours, the Dendon said, Due to your unique chemistry and prior conditions, your healing abilities are several levels above what should be possible.

  "So, in plain English, that means I'm–"

  You can die and recover. She will not. But then, she is usually not as careless as you.

  The med-scanner retracted its arms and pulled back into its niche.

  Liz’s eyes fluttered. Opened and fixed on me.

  “I want a rematch,” she said.

  That was my girl.

  Twenty-Five

  Kawl Tejoh

  Kawl Tejoh ordered the technicians in engineering to be whipped until they promised to get more speed out of the ship’s engines.

  He brooded as he sat in the command chair on the bridge. Sipping tepid, almost flavorless meybit and drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. In the center of the view screen in front of him was a small, reddish circle.

  Dendon.

  Getting closer. Even as the stupid ship was threatening to shake itself apart. The metal deck plates under his feet vibrated in an uneven rhythm. The air throughout the ship was hazed blue with the light smoke from overtaxed systems. Everything stank of burned wiring and ozone.

  But they were making excellent time toward the dead planet. Finally.

  There was extra motivation to go faster now that the ship had escaped the strange thing. Though it was shameful for a Don battlecruiser to have run like a scared uvontah. However, on occasion, it was wiser to retreat from an enemy than it was to engage. It wasn't cowardice. It was simply good sense.

  At least, that’s what he and Commander Zek had agreed upon after the incident.

  Kawl’s fingers drummed the command chair even harder.

  He was wearing grooves in the poor quality material with all his finger drumming.

  Everything about this ship was poor quality.

  From the lackadaisical, corner-cutting construction of the ship itself. To the lackadaisical, corner cutting attitude of the crew.

  When he became Emperor, there were going to be a lot of changes within the Don empire. He hadn’t considered before now just how far the empire had declined under the current regime. HeJov had been emperor for a very long time. The old fool needed to be retired. Preferably with a plasma blast between the eyes.

  But that would have to wait.

  He slammed the tepid cup of meybit down and snapped his fingers at sensor technician Tak.

  “Report!” He shouted, “Is it still behind us!”

  Skinny, weak-limbed Tak stood up from his station. The weakling's body trembled visibly. The tech's face was etched with strain. The tentacles sprouting from the sides of his head were limp and graying at the ends.

  Such a shameless display of fear would normally warrant an immediate execution. But it was Kawl's misfortune to have only one sensor technician aboard. A cost-cutting measure his superiors had foolishly imposed on the ship.

  When he was Emperor…

  “Sir, the object has fallen out of sensor range,” Tak said, “I believe we have escaped it. For the moment.”

  Kawl narrowed his eyes and leaned toward the quivering sensor tech.

  “We did not escape it,” he said, “We chose to disengage and relocate to a better position.”

  Tak paled even more. “Yes, of course, sir. That is what I meant to say.”

  Kawl held the coward’s eyes for another moment. Then went back to staring at the reddish circle on the view screen.

  “How much longer until we reach orbit?” He said.

  “We are still approximately three days out,” Tak said, “As long as the engines continue t
heir current output.”

  Kawl drummed his fingers on the command chair. He glanced at the cup of worthless meybit. A weak imitator of true myebit, which had a strong, full-flavored, bitter smokiness. Strong enough to keep a bagaloff awake.

  Maybe he could just fill a cup with bloodwine and bring it on the bridge. Who would know? Meybit and bloodwine were of similar colors.

  It would assist him in his desire to not think about the engines.

  “The engines will be fine,” he said, “Keep scanning for that thing.”

  Tak collapsed back to his seat and bent over the sensor station.

  Commander Zek entered the bridge. Walked stiffly over to Kawl. Zek was still favoring his right leg. Trying not to show any pain from the wound sustained in the encounter with the thing that attacked the ship. As any decent warrior would. The First Officer was perhaps the highest quality object on the ship.

  Other than himself, of course.

  But, lately, Zek’s presence on the bridge usually meant bad news.

  Zek came over and stood beside the command chair. He stared out at the viewscreen. And the red circle that was their destination.

  “Captain,” he said in a low voice, “I have just come from engineering.”

  “Don’t bring me bad news,” Kawl said, “All I want to hear is that the engines are performing at optimal levels.”

  “Of course they are, captain,” Zek said.

  The acrid, bluish haze inside the ship was simply proof of that optimal level of performance. That’s what he was going to tell himself.

  “Captain, there are some factors that I should bring to your attention,” Zek said.

  “Unless they’re about the greater glory that will come to us soon, I don’t want to hear about them.”

  “Of course, captain,” Zek said, “And these are tangentially related to your greater glory.”

  Kawl sighed. Stopped the drumming of his fingers. The tips of his fingers were getting sore with all that drumming. Maybe medical could come up with some sort of cushioned fingertip bandages?

  “What is it?” He said.

  Zek cast a brief look back at the crew behind them. If the crew knew what was good for them, they’d keep their heads down. If any of them chose to speak up, they were going to get a poison dart right in the face.

  Even Tak.

  Kawl’s fingers went to the edge of his uniform tunic. He’d started slipping the slim dart gun in his tunic before he left his cabin. Some of the looks the crew gave him as they passed in the corridor were approaching insolence.

  Zek cleared his throat. He continued in his low tone of voice. “I have had the weapons crew working on a replacement for the holo bomb we deployed to…disengage from the ship that attacked us.”

  “It wasn’t a ship,” Kawl said, “It was too small to be a ship.”

  Which was part of why the thing was so hard to track.

  Zek nodded. “Yes, captain, of course. The object. Anyway, the holo bomb. Since it was the only one we carried, I have directed the weapons crew to rig up something similar. In case we found ourselves in a similar situation.”

  A shudder ran through Kawl. He hid the shameful display by bolting to his feet. He pivoted to the crew behind him. All of them suddenly found their instruments and controls to be especially fascinating.

  Zek held his own hands behind his back. He appeared to be staring the view screen.

  “We have nothing to fear from that…thing,” Kawl said, “We are Don warriors. Every creature in the galaxy fears us. If that thing returns, it will taste our wrath. As it did before!”

  Which wasn’t quite accurate. The Hojan’s Murder tasted quite a bit of that cursed object’s wrath. How could something so small inflict so much damage?

  It was only stupid luck that they were able to escape it.

  Stupid luck that the ship had a single holo-bomb in the armory. And even stupider luck that it worked. The dazzling display confused the thing long enough for the Hojan’s Murder to jump into sub-light speeds.

  Something, so far, the thing didn’t seem capable of.

  Kawl had personally wielded the whip to make engineering get more out of those wretched engines. Before he got tired and ordered security to do it for him.

  So the ship could make speed.

  Like a devil was on their tail.

  “Of course, Captain,” Zek said, “The object will certainly be vanquished at our next meeting. As a precaution, for the greater glory of you and the Hojan’s Murder, the weapons crew have put together a second holo-bomb. Or something equivalent. I’m told.”

  Kawl gave Zek a withering scowl.

  “Fine. If it doesn’t work as promised, tell the armory crew they can expect to be shot out the tubes right after it.”

  Zek nodded. “They understand the cost of failure.”

  Failure.

  If that thing caught up to them before they got to the dead planet…

  Kawl straightened up and smoothed down his tunic. “You have the comm, Commander Zek,” he said, “I’m going to my quarters.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Captain,” Zek said.

  Kawl glared at him.

  "Captain, perhaps it would be helpful to send a message to high command?" Zek said, "This has become a different situation than we originally thought."

  Kawl narrowed his eyes and leaned close to the foolish, young officer.

  His voice low and threatening, he said: “And what would high command, do? Send a ship to find our cold corpses years from now? We’re on our own, Commander Zek. Either we go forward to glory. Or die in shame. Silence is what high command will get from us for now. As long as I’m in charge of this bucket, any man who breaks that silence will take a long walk from the nearest airlock.”

  He held eyes with Zek for a long moment. Was the commander thinking of mutiny? Kawl’s fingers toyed with the edge of his tunic.

  Then Zek looked down.

  “As you command, Captain,” he said.

  Kawl spun on his heel and stalked from the command deck. He clenched his hands into fists. And hoped Zek didn’t see them trembling.

  Twenty-Six

  Titus

  The freaky metal creature came back for T&T in the bone room.

  He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

  One the one hand, he’d been getting kinda lonely and creeped out in the dim, stone room. The one with the piles of alien bones and carapaces and whatnot. The place smelled bad. Like rancid meat mixed with rotting seafood and, strangely, chili peppers.

  One the other hand…

  He’d tried to find some kind of weapon after the metal beast with the freaky red eyes had tore out of the room. Weak, reddish light came from a thin window high up on the wall. Gave him just enough light to gingerly pick through the bones.

  Would it be too much to ask for the beast to have left a plasma blaster behind? Or a pocket knife?

  Apparently.

  Naked and shivering, he’d retreated to the farthest corner of the room. Farthest from the piles of bones. There hadn’t been any clothes in the piles.

  Maybe the creature had a thing for naked aliens.

  Oh god. What if that thing…

  Nope. Not going to think about that. Uh-uh.

  Though…if it was a choice between that and death?

  This was all mom’s fault. Why had she recommended him for this mission? And why had Uncle Mattany allowed her to do it? She wouldn’t put her precious baby in danger. Not deliberately.

  Even if she did like to joke about the size of the insurance policy she had on him.

  Ha. Joke was on her. The insurance company would probably want a death certificate. Which meant there would need to a body for someone to declare dead and all.

  Good luck getting his corpse off this planet.

  He sat in the corner and brooded about the general unfairness of life for a while. His stomach rumbled and twisted. Some food would be nice. If he had his comm, he could order a pi
zza. With a side of plasma blasters.

  He lay his head on his folded forearms.

  He’d almost dozed off when the pants-wettingly terrifying metal creature stormed back into the bone room.

  It reared up on its multi-faceted, segmented body. Waved its crazy number of arms in the air. The two red eyes glowed like fire.

  Before T&T could even take a breath, the creature blasted up to him in a stench of hot metal and a sound of metal grinding on stone. It looked over him, radiating heat and menace.

  He raised his hands against it. “What the fuck are you!”

  The beast leaned down over him. The slash of its mouth opened. Flames licked inside and a rancid fart stench billowed out.

  “What the fuck are you!” It shouted.

  “I’m a human!” T&T shouted, “I have rights! Geneva Convention. Or some like that. I kinda skipped that class.”

  The beast lowered its angular head down further. The heat washing over him actually felt pretty good after all the chilly naked time he’d endured. Though he could have done without the ripe fart stink.

  “Skipped that class,” the beast said, “I’m a human!”

  T&T lowered his hands. “The hell you are. I’m the human. You’re just some messed up nightmare worm.”

  The fiery red eyes brightened. “Messed up nightmare worm.”

  T&T flinched. Oh great. Now he’d insulted the stupid thing.

  “Hey, nothing personal, man,” he said, “But you are pretty scary. And, if we’re being honest here, you smell pretty bad. Mom took me to Yellowstone once. There were all these geysers and stuff all over the place. It was like the land of a million farts.”

  The beast drew back a little.

  “Land of a million farts.”

  And if finally clicked in. Again. The stupid thing was still just repeating everything he said.

  Well, if it was going to keep playing that game.

  “I’m booger picking champion,” he said.

  The glowing red eyes flickered. Then the beast leaned in closer. So close that the heat pouring from the thing’s open mouth felt like it was going to start cooking him. Much more and he was going to start sizzling like a slab of bacon.