by T. R. Harris
Adam stared down at this control panel, not sure what to do next. It was obvious the alien had reconfigured the panel, so he didn’t want to take a chance of hitting the wrong button at the wrong time.
Sensing his trepidation, Panur leaned over and tapped the upper-most engine select button. “There, now you have gravity drive under your command. Later, I will show you how to engage the hybrid function I’ve installed.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, although he wasn’t feeling very thankful at the moment. He looked out the front viewport and watched the moon sweep past. Normally, this kind of speed would be reserved for travel outside a gravity-intense stellar system, but a quick glance at his command screen showed that they were already traveling at nearly twenty-times light speed.
“I’m going to have to back off,” Adam said. “We could really screw up the system with a gravity well this deep.”
“Please check your readings first,” Panur said calmly.
Adam did, and then he checked them again. “This can’t be right.”
“Why do you continue to deny the fact that I made improvements to your propulsion system? The readings are correct. The well is of minimum depth, so there will be no disruption of nearby solid bodies. If you wish, I will allow you to engage the hybrid system. However, please have the autopilot activated beforehand. Your reactions may not be quick enough to respond to objects appearing within our path.”
“Why are we heading out of the system in the first place?” Adam asked. “We’re safe now.”
“On the contrary, those were Humans—as well as Klin—attacking your home tonight.”
“The Humans were probably there to protect you…or me.”
Panur smiled. “Unfortunately, that is not the case. They were there on the same mission as the Klin, to apprehend me for eventual return to the Sol-Kor.”
“Bullsh—”
The comm speakers came to life. “Calling the Pegasus II. Calling the Pegasus II. Please respond.”
Adam recognized the voice immediately. He toggled a switch to activate the voice-only link. “Andy, what the hell’s going on?”
“Adam, I’m glad you’re aboard,” said a serious-sounding Admiral Andy Tobias. “If the alien answered, that would mean you were still back at the compound…and probably dead by now.”
“No, I’m very much alive and mad as hell. The Klin destroyed my home, and now Panur says Humans were also involved in the attack.”
“Return to the planet immediately. We’ll talk when you get back.”
The Pegasus II was just passing the orbit of Mars, and proximity sensors were picking up at least twenty ships closing on their position. “Is it true? Are the Klin after Panur? Are we?”
“Just bring him back, Captain. That’s an order.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been active in the military for over eight years, so Tobias was no longer his commanding officer. “What’s going on, Admiral? This isn’t like you.”
Panur leaned over closer to Adam. “Do not trust him,” he whispered. “They do not have all the information they need to make an informed decision.”
“Just bring him back,” Tobias ordered again. “If not, then I’m authorized to destroy the Pegasus II and recover his body from the debris. He’ll survive, but you won’t.”
Adam was stunned. This was Andy Tobias, one of his oldest and dearest friends, and his former senior officer when Adam was with SEAL Team Six. And he’d just said that he would order Adam’s death if he didn’t comply.
“Okay, Admiral, I’m turning around, but you better have a pretty good explanation when I get there.”
Panur reached over to the pilot’s command console and fingered two buttons. Instantly the star field through the forward viewport turned a hazy green and a strange tunnel appeared before them, sending thin streaks of light bubbling away from the tunnel. Adam felt like the air was being sucked from his lungs, even though it was only from his reaction to the visual effects through the viewport and not from any actual sensation of movement.
“What did you just do?” he asked once he regained his composure.
“I activated the dimensional phase shifter. We are now safe, and well beyond the reach of your military vessels.”
“But I have to take you back to Earth.”
“I cannot go there. If I do, your people will turn me over the Sol-Kor.”
“Bullshit! We don’t have anything to do with them, except the desire to kill every last one we can find.”
“Yet your race, along with the Klin—and more than likely the Juireans as well—
have all been offered immunity from Sol-Kor attack in exchange for my return to the Queen.”
Adam was suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of thoughts, not the least being the revelation that the Human race could avoid becoming a harvest crop of the Sol-Kor simply by returning Panur to the Queen. He cast a furtive glance at the tiny alien and noticed an amused smile on his face.
“Before you begin devising ways of restraining me for our eventual return to Earth, allow me a moment to give you all the facts. Will you grant me that?”
“But Humanity can be saved, with no more fear of becoming the latest addition to the Sol-Kor dinner menu.”
“Unfortunately, that is not true. If it were, I would gladly surrender myself. I like the Humans—and you in particular. Please give me five minutes. If at the end of that time you are not convinced that I should never again join with the Sol-Kor, then I will allow you to take me back.”
Adam eyed the pale alien with suspicion. Besides using his incredible intellect to create new and revolutionary inventions, Panur also had the ability to essentially read minds simply by studying body language and other subtle tells. He could also think several steps ahead, making any debate with him nearly a foregone conclusion. So Adam wasn’t sure he could trust the alien to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. He would make it sound convincing, but the very concept of reality was often what Panur made it out to be. How Adam could tell whether or not he was being manipulated, he didn’t know, but entering the conversation with a healthy dose of skepticism would be a good start.
“Okay, five minutes. But be honest with me, Panur. I consider you a friend, and friends don’t lie to one another.”
“Which in itself is an untruth,” said Panur, “yet I will allow you that. I will tell the truth, after which you will see the logic in my actions.”
“All right, the clock is ticking. Get talking or I’m turning the ship around.”
Panur spun around in the co-pilot seat until he was facing Adam. His face grew placid. “You may believe this is the first time I have parted ways with the Sol-Kor, when in fact this is the sixteenth such event.”
“Why do you keep going back?”
“Please allow me extra time if you are going to interrupt with questions.”
Adam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Well, excuse me,” he said. “By all means, continue.”
Panur nodded. “As I was saying, this is the sixteenth time, and in none of the previous departures did I return to the Sol-Kor of my own choosing. Each time I became the subject of a massive search and was eventually located, subdued, and repatriated.”
Adam began to say something, but instead snapped his mouth shut.
Panur smiled. “I know what you are thinking: I am Panur, the super-being, immortal and of unsurpassed intellect. So how is it I can be successfully caught and returned? The answer lies before you.” He swept his hands over his body. “Look at me. I am small and relatively weak. Physically, I am no match for countless species, so it is quite easy for me to be restrained against my will.” He nodded again. “Yes, in the past I have built defensive weapons, yet even they proved inadequate against overwhelming force. The Queen has often made galaxy-wide proclamations which set me against trillions of creatures, all seeking survival through my capture and return.”
“Take whatever damn time you need, but I’m going to ask questions,” Adam
suddenly blurted. “Even if you do get returned, you’re still Panur, this hotshot alien that can’t be killed. So why do you keep building weapons and devices that allow the Sol-Kor to exterminate entire species?”
“Because I must.”
That wasn’t the answer Adam had been expecting, and he saw something in Panur’s eyes he’d never seen before—fear.
The alien noticed Adam’s reaction. “I know this may be puzzling to you. What can force a creature who cannot die into doing anything he doesn’t want to do? You must realize there are many things just as terrifying as death, even for an immortal.”
“What could be worse than dying?”
“Not dying, Adam Cain,” Panur answered. “With such a cryptic reply, I know I must provide more detail for you to understand.” The alien appeared to gather his thoughts. “You have remarked how it is that I don’t sleep. This is not hard to understand when you realize my body doesn’t require it, yet even if it did, I would resist the need. Sleep is such a waste of time, especially for me. I do realize how unique I am, and every moment I live I appreciate the special gift I’ve been given. That is why I am so curious of all things around me, and why I am always seeking new experiences. It’s the price I pay for this gift. I equate my need for activity—for creation and invention—to your need to breathe. And even though there may appear to be times when I am doing nothing, in reality I am always thinking. I do not experiment, Adam. I think, and through thinking I create. Turning my thoughts into reality is simply a physical and mechanical process, because by that time the project has already been completed—in my mind.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you help the Sol-Kor. I would imagine this unquenchable thirst for knowledge would go against all the Sol-Kor stand for. All they do is consume. They don’t colonize, they don’t invent, they don’t progress. They’re your direct opposite. Yet it’s your space engines, dimension portals, and suppressor beams that allow them to do what they do. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“So what’s this hold the Queen has over you?”
Panur hesitated before answering. “Do not be offended, but there is information that if revealed will give you—and those you tell—this same hold over me as does the Queen.”
“You brought up the subject, so don’t leave me hanging. Just being with you right now is a much bigger risk to me than it is to you. If you want me to help, then I need to know it all.”
“You must not relay this information to anyone.”
“Trust me, Panur. Now tell me.”
“Very well. As you know, I absorb energy directly to sustain my bodily functions, whereas other creatures must consume food and other nourishment that then gets converted into the requisite energy to sustain life. My way is simpler and more direct, yet have you considered what would happen if I do not receive the energy I require?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. You’d die?”
“No, and that is the quandary. I don’t die, my body goes into a dormant stage until an energy source comes near. I can get this energy from just about anything: electrical circuits, plasma weapons, even the innate electrical charge associated with all large objects, such as planets, including lightning that ionizes the atmosphere. In general, it is very difficult for me not to acquire the energy I need.”
“Yet the Queen has found a way?”
“Precisely.”
“But then your body just goes dormant. You still don’t die.”
“That is correct.”
The fear in Panur’s eyes was even more pronounced.
“I don’t understand.”
“It becomes complicated,” the alien said. “Let me try this approach. I have studied your Human culture, and I know some of you are very good at playing musical instruments. Imagine being threatened with never being allowed to play again. Would you not fear that?”
“Of course, but if the alternative was to build deadly weapons that would be used against trillions of innocent people, I’d consider that a fair trade.”
“I see I am having difficulty with my explanation. Let me try another tack. For creatures like you, death is your ultimate deadline…your ultimate escape. It is the same with every living being, and even with planets, stars, and universes. You accept this, and therefore whatever you can achieve during the time you have available is satisfactory. You may regret not accomplishing certain things throughout your time, yet you realize you could not achieve it all, so you do not let it consume you. Yet what if you knew you had no time limit, that you could continue forever doing what gives you immeasurable joy and purpose? Would then the possibly of that being interrupted not scare you? Having a time limit on your life defines your boundaries and the scope of your endeavors. Without this limit, perspectives change. To you I have all the time I need to accomplish anything I desire, so why worry about time? I will live forever. You may find it strange and incomprehensible, but the only thing an immortal fears is not being immortal.”
“Hey, I’m just a simple soldier,” Adam said. “I think you lost me on that one. You say you’re immortal, but you fear not being immortal. You mean not being immortal any longer? Is that it?”
“You are getting closer to understanding, Adam Cain,” Panur said. His mood seemed to lift considerably. “When I enter a dormant stage, I can no longer do all the things I must do to give my life purpose. Knowing that I am simply in a dormant stage and being prevented from fulfilling my destiny is—to me—the worst kind of torture.”
“You’re conscious during these dormant stages?”
“No, I am not. And if I never transform back to a normal state, then I would not have the opportunity to regret my lack of activity during that period. Yet each time I go under the Queen revives me. The emotions associated with my revival are the most intense I experience. My addiction to creating has not been fed, and I feel the need to compensate.”
“And that’s why you build the Sol-Kor weapons?”
“No, it is not. What I meant by compensating is that I do, indeed, begin to study, build, and invent anew, and not necessarily just the items the Queen commands. It is everything.”
Panur’s face grew a shade darker. Adam didn’t know whether this was intentional or not. “I follow the Queen’s dictates just so she will not place me in the dormant stage again. Having experienced it, having been revived—several times—I know what I have missed. I know the agony of regret I feel when I come out at the other end. I know of all the opportunities that have been lost. And I know the Queen can toy with me over centuries, reviving me briefly, only to send me back under again after only an hour or so of consciousness. Death to Humans is acceptable, and often times even welcomed. Knowing what I know now, I would also welcome death if it meant I would never have to live again. Yet I know I will not die, and that life—and the fear—will come again and again. I understand that our perspectives are so different that you may have trouble understanding this apparent dichotomy. I don’t fear death, just the possibility of it not being final.”
“Wow, that’s some heavy shit,” Adam admitted. “So she keeps you in a perpetual state of fear, the fear of dying—if only temporary.”
“It is the certainty of revival that makes my situation so unique and perplexing. Unless you’ve experienced what I have, it is very difficult to grasp the concept. And so I create for the Queen, lest I remember what it was like to be alive before and dwell on all that I have missed while I was gone.”
“Still, wouldn’t you sacrifice your life if doing so would save trillions of others? What if each time she revives you, you just say no to her demands?”
Some of the enthusiasm Panur had been showing now drained from his body. “Do you believe I have not tried that? There is only so much even I can tolerate. After each series of protests, I eventually succumbed and did my Queen’s bidding. You may find this abhorrent, yet until you’ve experienced what I have been through, it is very hard to comprehend.”
&nbs
p; Adam shook his head, trying to come to grips with the strange confession he’d just heard. He had no doubt Panur was sincere, yet having grown up in and around the military, Adam knew everyone had a point where they would sacrifice everything for the greater good. Because death was final for Humans, they saw it as their ultimate escape from bondage—the final up-yours to their capturers. Yet what if you didn’t die, and just kept waking up to go through it all over again? In a small way, Adam was coming to understand some of Panur’s anxiety.
He glanced at the nav screen and saw that the Pegasus II was already six light-years out from Earth and getting further away with each passing second. Panur’s admission had been interesting, yet it was off topic. The alien might fear being returned to the Queen, yet Adam had his entire race to consider, and so far he wasn’t convinced that placating Panur’s fears was a fair tradeoff.
“I’m sorry, Panur, but if I have to choose between saving the Human race or keeping you from suffering at the hands of the Queen, I choose mankind.”
“Understandable…and expected,” said the alien. “Yet consider what you just said. If I’m returned to the Sol-Kor, I will continue to work on deadly weapons that may eventually be used against you and your kind. And here is a truth you had better accept: never in the history of the Sol-Kor have they honored an immunity agreement.”
“You mean for returning you?”
“Yes, and why should they? I am back in their custody, which is all they desire. As you have said, the Sol-Kor do not colonize, nor do they seek long-term accommodations with others. They are of a single purpose: the pursuit of food. Furthermore, the subject race granted immunity often feels secure with the agreement and lowers their guard against the Sol-Kor. And that is when they attack.” Panur’s face took on a sad expression. “I wish I could provide you with evidence of this, yet in every case the species that returned me was consumed within a very short time. Every time. So you see you have been given a false choice. Returning me will not save your species—or any species—yet it will increase the chance of me inventing other means of subduing even more worlds. As a fact, I’m nearing completion on a suppressor beam upgrade which can dominate an entire planet from a light-year away. As it is today, the Sol-Kor need over a hundred beam platforms and considerable set-up time to subdue a planet. With my new beam, a single platform is required, with no units within close proximity of the target world. It will greatly improve the efficiency of the harvest.”
