Forbidden World

by Jeremy Michelson

  “Captain,” Tak said, “I was able to translate the symbols. They are one of the written languages of the Earth creatures.”

  “One?”

  Tak nodded. Wearily it seemed. “Yes, they have several. They seem to be a very unusual race.”

  “The markings, Tak. What do they say?”

  Take sighed again. “The markings were in a Terran language called English.”

  “I don’t care about that. What do they say?”

  Tak’s eyes flicked toward the hatch. Outside, a couple of ugly Tevhae had noticed them and were approached. In a few more moments, they would usher he and Tak off the ship.

  And then he would cease to be the captain of the Don battle cruiser, The Hojan’s Murder.

  He would just be…

  A permanent guest of the Tevhae.

  He gripped Tak’s arm.

  “The words, Tak,” he said, “What did they say?”

  Take avoided his eyes.

  “Sir, captain…roughly translated, they said: Don’t fuck with Earth.”

  Eighty-Two

  Titus

  There were about a thousand Marines, with plasma rifles at their shoulders, staring at his dinky.

  This was not the glorious homecoming T&T had imagined.

  Not even close.

  The whine of charged plasma rifles cut through the hot desert air like a swarm of angry bees. Heat radiated off the wide expanse of concrete at the secret Area 53 base near the old Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico.

  Chris had landed the ship right in the middle of the tarmac between the rows of big, white hangers. Just beyond the hangers the silver towers of the cloaking field hummed and pulsed.

  The Marines, many of them in silver space armor had poured out of the hangers. They surrounded the ship. He’d never seen so many gun barrels pointed in one direction.

  Unfortunately, it was his direction.

  Double unfortunate was that he was standing on the gangplank that extended from the ship to the ground.

  Triple unfortunate was the fact that he lacked any clothing to cover his manly parts. Which parts, under duress, were trying to crawl back inside his body, thus giving an unimpressive impression of little T&T.

  A hard, metal covered hand pressed against his back, pushing him forward.

  No matter how much he had apologized to Chris and Liz in the last few days, they didn’t seem to believe him.

  Also, no matter how much he begged, they wouldn’t provide him any clothing.

  Hell, he would have happily worn some of those rancid-meat-stinking Don clothes if they’d let him on the Don ship for ten minutes.

  Nope and nope.

  It seemed they were going to hold a grudge.

  The burning New Mexico sun beat down on his bare skin. It felt like he was stepping into a frying pan. Both figuratively and literally.

  The hot ozone stink of a thousand charged plasma rifles tickled his nostrils. Almost making him sneeze.

  Only the thought of what sudden movement might bring stopped him.

  No sudden movements were what needed to happen.

  A thousand tense Marines watched his every move. Ready to blast away any hint of hostile action.

  That's what happened when someone landed an alien ship in the middle of a super-secret military base.

  “Come on, hurry up,” Liz said, giving him a shove down the gangplank.

  A thousand armed Marines twitched.

  Little T&T shrank even farther as every muscle in T&T’s body clenched.

  “Take it easy, sweetie,” Chris said, “I don’t think Guydoro’s is going to run out of burgers before we get there.”

  “I’m hungry, damnit,” Liz said, “We haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. It’s making me cranky.”

  At that, the sphincters in T&T’s bladder threatened to relax. It was only through sheer force of will that he managed to not piss himself.

  If given the choice of having a thousand Marines with plasma rifles mad at him, or an armored Liz…he’d take the Marines all day, every day. Forever and ever.

  After seeing what she did to that one armored Don on the ship…

  Nope. Not going there. If Liz told him gnawing off his own foot would make her happy, he’d start chomping on his toes immediately. Without hesitation.

  A vehicle honked and honked. The Marines parted and an open-topped staff car zipped up the new corridor of armed men. The car screeched to a halt near where the gangplank touched concrete. A square-jawed man with steel gray buzzcut hair stood up in the passenger seat. His blue Space Corps uniform was spotless, the pants pressed to a knifelike crease. Steely eyes narrowed. Muscles clenched along the square jaw. Small, delicate hands clenched the top of the car's windshield.

  Uncle Mattany…Well, General Mattany’s beady eyes swept over the ship, then Chris and Liz. Finally, coming back to T&T. Giving him a face burning up and down look.

  “Lieutenant Tavin,” Mattany said, “Where is your uniform?”

  Oh, sure. There’s a big ass alien ship sitting on the middle of the tarmac and the first thing Uncle Mattany asked about was his uniform?

  “It was destroyed in combat, sir,” T&T said.

  Which, while not a hundred percent accurate, was not completely inaccurate, either. Pretty much everything that happened the last few weeks could be classified as combat. In one form or another.

  Liz pushed him down to the end of the gangplank.

  “We’re not staying,” she said, “We’re just dropping this off. Then we’re gonna get some lunch.”

  Mattany pointed a delicate finger at her. His face was painted in red shades of fury.

  “You’re not going anywhere!” He shouted, “You have a shit-ton of explaining to do. You’re both under arrest. And this ship is now the property of the United States Government.”

  Liz sighed and turned her head back Chris’ way. The harsh sunlight gleamed off her golden armor.

  T&T’s knees started knocking together. Between Liz and a thousand armed Marines was such a very bad place to be.

  “Chris, you want to explain it to him?” She said, “Or can I just start kicking asses? Please?”

  Chris shook his head. “Patience, dear,” he said, “Let me talk to the General first.”

  Chris strolled the rest of the way down the gangplank. Then he did one of those spooky things like he'd been doing ever since he came back to life that last time.

  Chris rose off the ground. Just lifted off like all of sudden he decided gravity didn’t apply to him anymore. Some of the Marines gasped.

  Uncle Mattany just narrowed his beady eyes to slits. But the muscles along his jaw bunched furiously.

  Chris floated up level with Mattany.

  “So, I’m going to make this official,” Chris said, “We don’t work for you, or for any government any longer. We’ve got bigger things to do than run errands for you.”

  Mattany’s lip lifted in a sneer. “Your little parlor tricks don’t scare me,” he said, “Now get your ass down on the ground. Or I’ll have it blasted out of the air.”

  Liz shoved T&T aside and stepped up to Mattany’s car. The driver’s eyes widened. The poor guy looked like he was about to drop dead from fear.

  It sucked to be a grunt in the middle of someone else’s war.

  Liz grabbed a handful of the car’s hood. It screeched and crumpled like aluminum foil.

  The Marines closest to the car took a few steps back.

  “Don’t you dare threaten him,” Liz said, “Or I’ll wad this car up and shove it up your ass.”

  And she'd do it too.

  He shuddered. That poor Don bastard…

  Mattany clenched his jaw so hard, T&T could hear the man’s teeth creak.

  “You can’t win this one, General,” Chris said.

  “You don’t scare me,” Mattany said. He waved a hand at the troops. “I’ve got the advantage here. There’s a thousand plasma rifles on you. There’s artillery aimed right at you. I’ve got
hover jets in the air, just waiting for you to try something. So, stand down. Or die.”

  Chris laughed.

  A shudder seemed to go through the crowd of soldiers. A lot of them looked at each other. But they held their weapons steady.

  Dang it.

  T&T checked out things from the corner of his eyes. Was there any way he could slip off someplace? Just ease his way over to someplace less likely to be the center of a shitstorm of death?

  He started to slide his foot away from the gangplank.

  Liz’s armored grabbed the back of his neck.

  Then lifted him off the ground.

  “We put up with this little weasel you sent along,” she said, “He’s the one who got your ship blown up. He invited the enemy inside and they rummaged through the ship’s computers and stole tons of data. What are you going to do about that, General?”

  Mattany turned a laser-like stare of fury on him.

  Oh, man. Not cool.

  Uncle Mattany’s glare promised there would be a reckoning. And that mom would probably get involved, too.

  “He will be dealt with,” Mattany said, “But both of you are going to the brig.”

  Chris, still floating in the air–like it was totally a normal thing–folded his arms over his chest.

  “For what?” He said.

  Mattany’s jaw worked for a few moments while he chewed it over.

  It would have been funny if smoke started curling out of the General's ears. Or if his head exploded from all the pent-up rage.

  But, that didn’t happen. Uncle Mattany finally found his excuses and started spitting them out.

  He spouted off regulations and rules and destruction of government property.

  A whole list, actually.

  A lot of the soldiers within earshot cringed at the sheer depth of broken rules and regs.

  Chris listened patiently. Still floating in the air, hands folded over his chest.

  Mattany eventually wound down. His face was fire engine red. His fingers white knuckle clenched on the top of the car’s windshield.

  "So get your ass down here and surrender!" Mattany shouted, "Or, by God, I will order you blasted to pieces."

  Chris got a thoughtful look. He tapped his finger on his chin.

  “Hmmmm, okay,” he said, “I choose getting blasted. Fire away.”

  He spread his arms wide. He had a serene look on his face.

  T&T’s bladder threatened to void itself. Oh man, this was bad. So very, very bad.

  He tried to run, but his feet still weren’t touching the ground.

  He was going to die. And he still had so much life to live. He’d hoped to live most of it outside of military prison, too.

  Mattany called to the several of the Marines near him. Ordered them to line up and take aim.

  Liz put T&T down. But didn’t let go of him, damnit.

  “Please, let me go,” he said.

  “Uh uh,” she said, “You get to stay for the whole show, you nasty little weasel.”

  Mattany pointed a delicate finger at Chris.

  “Last chance!”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Dude. Are you really this dumb?”

  Apparently he was, because Uncle Mattany ordered the Marines to fire.

  The hum of charged plasma rifles turned to a hiss and crackle of hot plasma streaming at Chris.

  The plasma splashed on his chest.

  Wait, no…it wasn’t splashing. It was…disappearing?

  What the hell?

  It was like Chris was absorbing the plasma fire.

  The Marines stopped shooting. Chris hung in the air. Completely unharmed. Waves of heat radiated off him. Little blue sparks danced over his body.

  But that was it.

  Chris held his hand out. The plasma rifles jumped from the nearest Marine’s hands. The spun through the air. Twirling. Dancing. Bobbing.

  Until suddenly they were arrayed in a circle around Mattany. The barrels pointed right at him. Mattany’s eyes went wide.

  “Chris,” Liz said, “Can we stop playing with the soldiers already? I’m hungry.”

  Chris grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

  The plasma rifles around Mattany clattered to the ground. Mattany closed his eyes. Chris floated over to him. Right up in his face.

  "I don't take orders from you anymore," Chris said, "But we'll work on a few more things together. But no more threats, Okay? I might lose my sense of humor."

  Chris floated back up the gangplank and into the ship. Liz walked up it. She paused at the hatch. Turned. Put her fingers to her armored face about where her lips would be. Made like she was blowing a kiss.

  Then she turned and planted that kiss right on her armored ass.

  The clang of metal clad fingers on metal clad butt rang like a bell across the tarmac.

  A thousand Marines sighed.

  Then she was inside the ship and the gangplank was retracting and the hatch was closing.

  Seconds later, a hum emanated from the sleek, white ship. It rose into the sky.

  And disappeared.

  Uncle Mattany turned to him. The General’s eyes blazed like fire.

  It was only then T&T realized how hard Chris and Liz had screwed him.

  Eighty-Three

  Chris

  The Dendon ship limped into orbit around the dead planetoid. I shut down as many systems as I dared. The ship’s power plant was strained and damaged and operating at only sixty percent. As I sat in the flight couch, my hands on the broken control console, I marveled that the ship was still holding together.

  After the abuse it had been put through from that idiot Don, Zek, and my own hard maneuvers, any lesser ship would have been a pile of half-melted metal.

  Liz sat in the seat next to me. She had her armor on, but the faceplate on the armor was pulled back. She glanced over at me and lifted an eyebrow.

  It was a good thing she trusted me.

  Or maybe she just loved a good adventure.

  I took a deep breath of chilly and stale ship air. It wasn’t bad, actually. The ship’s air scrubbers had taken care of the Don stink. All I could smell now was a slight spicy undertone beneath Liz’s vanilla and sandalwood scent.

  I gave her a wink. We both turned our faces to the big, curving view screen in front of us.

  I was still mostly connected to the ship. It was still giving me little alerts for various malfunctioning systems. None of it major. For the moment. There were other, larger warnings that I’d silenced. But I checked in on them periodically just to make sure the ship wasn’t going to blow up.

  That would be inconvenient.

  Through the ship’s sensors, I examined the black husk of the dead planetoid. It was maybe twice as big as Earth’s moon. The surface was black and pockmarked. A large crack split the surface on one side. It made an enormous crevice through the planetoid.

  “Where are we?” Liz asked.

  I consulted the ship’s navigational system.

  “We’re actually outside the galaxy,” I said, “Not too far. Gravity is still pulling this little guy along.”

  “So this is it, then?” She asked.

  I nodded.

  “How’d they find this place?” She said.

  A smile crossed my lips. “They put it here. Just in case they needed it.”

  “Sneaky.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I wonder how much of what happened is what they wanted to happen.”

  Liz gave me a strange look.

  “You think the entire race committed suicide?” She asked, “What does your little buddy have to say about that idea?”

  “He doesn’t talk anymore,” I said, “Not like a voice in my head. Since I…grew up and became responsible, I just know all this stuff. If there’s a question, I just think about it. And pretty soon an answer comes up.”

  "That's kinda creepy," she said.

  “Yeah.”

  We were silent for a little bit. I put a little false color on the image of the planetoid
on the screen. Otherwise, it would have been almost completely lost to the inky night it sailed in. I highlighted the giant crevice. The scans weren't penetrating the surface. Or rather, the scans were telling me the planetoid's interior was a boring mix of rock and iron.

  Which wasn’t quite true.

  The Dendon had done quite a lot of work to make it innocuous as possible.

  They had found the planetoid, mostly just like it was now. Then they moved it and gave it some enhancements.

  “So, did they or didn’t they?” Liz asked.

  I pulled myself out of the ship a little. “What?”

  “Did they kill themselves or not?”

  I thought on it. Asked the question to that other space inside myself.

  The Dendon was supposed to contain all Dendon knowledge that had ever been recorded.

  And there was the caveat: ever recorded.

  When I asked Liz’s question to that space, all I got back was silence.

  I turned to her and shrugged. “If it was suicide, they didn’t leave a note,” I said, “I’m going to leave it an open question. The Dendon had been around a long time. They had done everything. In most cases multiple times. I definitely get the sense they were…weary. But we know they weren’t prepared for their own end. So, who knows?”

  “And now we get to clean up the mess,” Liz said. Her eyes were on the screen.

  “Yeah. We get to clean up grandma’s hoarder house,” I said, “Except in this case grandma also left all kinds of live hand grenades and sharp, pointed objects in her piles of stuff.”

  “Fun.”

  I glanced at her. I wasn’t sure if she was serious or sarcastic. Sometimes Liz and I had different ideas about fun.

  “Like you said, job security,” I said.

  She didn't have the full list of the stuff the Dendon left scattered throughout the galaxy. Eventually, I'd have to reveal it to her.

  Then she might be less amused.

  “Well, we gonna sit here and scratch out butts, or are we going in?” Liz said.

  And right to the point, as usual.

  I never had to worry about Liz equivocating or being diplomatic. She was gloriously unfiltered.