by Sarah Noffke
“Get over it, Teach,” Julianna shot back.
“Not yet, Fregin,” he retorted.
Julianna allowed herself to chuckle when Eddie was gone.
I have a confession to make, Pip stated with an awkward laugh.
Julianna paused. She was at her limit with new information for the moment. What?
I actually don’t think we should go vegan.
We? What, do you have a rabbit in your hat?
No, we let them all go on Kezza. You should have let me keep one, though.
I’m not even giving that request any attention.
Anyway, consuming animal products is probably best, since we exert so much energy and need our protein, Pip reasoned.
We? Ha-ha. And I was never going vegan.
I’m looking into the paleo diet now. It involves eating only foods—
Pip, you’ve officially driven me insane, she said, cutting him off.
He let out an audible sigh. Ok, then, mission accomplished. I’m going to go take a nap. I’m exhausted.
Julianna rolled her eyes as she yawned. Tomorrow was another day full of missions that would seek to break them, villains who would no doubt try to elude them, and Pip, who would probably succeed at annoying her. She silently smiled to herself as she made her way to her personal quarters.
Julianna couldn’t wait for tomorrow, but tonight she’d rest.
Epilogue
Verdok stood under the bright spotlight inside the Council chambers. The elders perched on their benches behind their tall walls, looking down at him.
He was in trouble, and he knew it. If Penrae were here, maybe things would be different. Maybe he could convince them that she’d screwed up everything—but for once she wasn’t present to take the blame she undoubtedly deserved.
Verdok didn’t wonder where Penrae was. The Council of Elders didn’t seem very concerned either. They all knew she wouldn’t talk. To betray the Saverus was one of the worst crimes. And like the rest of them, Penrae had undergone the sacrificial rituals that bound her to secrecy.
Betrayal of the Saverus would cause her great pain. She would suffer for eternity. That was what the elders had taught them, and Verdok believed it. All Saverus believed it. This doctrine was as old as the planet Savern where they’d originated, and to which they’d one day return.
“Verdok, how do you plead?” the head Council member asked.
Verdok hung his giant head, his tongue flicking quickly in and out of his mouth.
“Guilty. I’m guilty of failing in my mission.”
The head Council member seemed to loom larger, his eyes narrowing. “The sentence for a guilty plea is death.”
Verdok tensed all over. If Penrae was here… “Wait! I did learn details of where the Tangle Thief could be. I’m your best hope for locating the device.”
The head Council member considered this. “That’s true, but you lost many Petigrens in this mission.”
“Petigrens who wanted to help the cause,” Verdok argued. Why was this even an issue? Petigrens bred so fast and frequently that replacing them was of no consequence to the Saverus.
“Although that might be true, you have failed and must be punished,” the head Council member said.
“I’m not arguing that,” Verdok said in a rush. “Just give me a chance to fix things. I know if given another opportunity, I can redeem myself.”
Many of the Council members leaned forward, menace heavy in their scrutinizing eyes.
“We need to know what you plan to do to make up for this unsuccessful mission,” the head Council member demanded.
Verdok lifted his head, injecting confidence into his every move as he swayed back and forth hypnotically. “I plan to scour the planet Nexus. If you grant me the resources, I’ll follow every lead until I discover where the boy with the black Mohawk hid the Tangle Thief. And having met our enemy, I’m in the best position to fool them, shall we meet again.”
The Council muttered amongst themselves, a barrage of hissed words.
“Silence,” the head Council member said, looking straight at Verdok. “You make a good point and you did bring us this information, so I’ll grant your request and spare you this time. But one more failed attempt and your sentence will be carried out.”
Verdok swayed more so now. “Do not worry, Elders. I will not let you down. I will find the Tangle Thief and deliver it to you so we can have what we’ve long dreamed of.”
FINIS
Author Notes - Sarah Noffke
February 25, 2018
I grew up the youngest of four children and let me just tell you something straight. My siblings were assholes. My oldest sister thought that television was the devil. I wished I were kidding when I said that. If she caught me watching it then she pulled me by my hair and thrust me out into nature. My brother hogged the television so he could make himself feel worthy by playing Mario Bros and trying to beat those nearly unbeatable castles. And my other sister was addicted to Lifetime television and most of our quality time together consisted of watching the movie of the week where some needy woman faked a pregnancy for attention. Am I going somewhere with this? Eventually…
My point is that unlike most children, I wasn’t handed a remote and allowed to pick what I wanted to watch. Oh no. My life was complicated from the start. So instead of free-choice television, I’d usually wonder into my mom’s room where she was watching the older generation of Doctor Who. Oh, yes, I’m that old. Oh, good, you’re probably all thinking. Author girl has a fucking point now.
Yes, I do. I grew up watching Tom Baker as the Doctor, running around and being an amazingly eccentric character. Most can’t pinpoint when they fell in love with science fiction, but I can. I can also thank my asshole siblings for modeling me into who I became. Some complain that they are victims of their childhood. I’m the product of a bunch of bullies and proud of it. If allowed to watch my choice in programming then I may not be obsessed with British television. I might have actually watched a Disney cartoon and then where the hell would I be right now?
And I digress.
It was important to me that I make this arc an homage to one of the best shows in history. I’m a huge fan of the new generation of Doctor Who. Before I started writing I actually would watch David Tennant as the Doctor and think, I want to write something as smart as this. Actually, I think the Matt Smith seasons are really the smartest, but I’m opening another can of worms. My point is that I took inspiration from the series and stuck it straight into these books.
Okay, I owe many thanks and kudos to many readers for the help with this book. It was challenging to me to start this arc. Many thanks to James Caplan. First reader. Cheerleader. And a guy who constantly has my back. He’s going to hate me for calling him a cheerleader. I’ll deal with it.
If you thought that Bob the blob thing was smart, well thank Ron and Lisa Frett for giving me the inspiration. I went onto the Facebook group and asked the readers to give me ideas of what they wanted to see in the next arc. See! I listen!
Diane Brenner, Ron Gailey and Tracey Brynes helped to craft the Chief Engineer. Sorry she doesn’t have a dragon like you all wanted, but I did give her a ferret. If you’re looking for a dragon then hop over to my Orcieran series, Soul Stone Mage. Yes, that’s a shameless plug. Come on, my kid goes through shoes like they’re packs of chewing gum.
You all had to notice the cars. Before you wonder if I’ve made besties with a mechanic, the answer is no. When I asked for input from the readers, I also asked for cars they’d like to see included in Hatch’s lab. I think you know now that the list of suggestions was overwhelming and I now have to write 45 more books to include them all. Julianna and Eddie will be old and 300 years will have passed before I list the last car suggested by readers. But I will do it!
Thank you to Ron Gailey for suggesting the classic Stutz Bearcat, Rolls Royce Silver Shadow and Edsel. Edward Rosenfeld gets the credit for the Buggatti. Micky Cocker gave me the idea for the VW Beet
le. Tracey Byrnes had the genius idea to include the 1970 Plymouth Cuda. Kelly O’Donnell was smart to recommend the 57 Corvette. Diane L. Smith when you mentioned the DeLorean, I got giddy. What is Hatch and Knox up to with that car? Also thanks for the idea for the Dodge Charger 440 Magnum. Joe Usakowski, your input on the 76 Cadillac Fleetwood 60 Special Talisman and its spectacular interior is going to make me look smart. And lastly, thank you to James Homet for suggesting the blue 1966 Corvette convertible.
John C. Calvert, you get the final kudo for the idea for Pip’s body. You’re one clever guy. Michael and I actually discussed the idea a while ago for an AI to control a body. That idea disappeared until you shot this over and I was like, “Yahoo!” Thanks to everyone for all the wonderful suggestions. More to come in books 6 through 49.
Okay, without further ado, I give you the man of the hour. The one you’ve all been waiting to hear from.
— Sarah
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
February 26, 2018
First, thank you for not only reading this story, but reading these Author Notes as well!
Sarah is a sweetie, and to learn that she was able to come from a group of siblings that were so challenging is a bit surprising (because of her sweetness!) It certainly points to people being able to mature to become cool people, no matter what the crap they had to deal with in the beginning.
I didn’t suffer this trouble with siblings in my life. For myself, my older brother was pretty cool… Mostly.
I’m the troublemaker, he wasn’t. He was the oldest who excelled at school, making the Principle’s list and doing all sorts of really amazing scholastic shit that I never lived up to.
Way to make me try harder there, Darryl!
Yes, my character Darryl (or Darrell depending on how I fucked up the spelling) of the Queen’s Bitches was named after my older brother. It also explains why the character’s name changed in time… I couldn’t ‘not’ spell it the way I knew it to be spelled for 40 years.
So, write that rule down. If you name someone after a sibling, perhaps DON’T change the spelling of their name so that later in the series you correct yourself subconsciously. You will forget the AMAZING idea that ‘no one will realize I’m naming this character after my brother’ about book 3 or 4…
At least that is what I did.
Later in my life, when I had moved out of the house (18 or 19 at the time) and Darryl and I were sharing an apartment (split plan, he got the better room and paid $10 more a month… That was big money to me in 1986) he did something that I STILL feel like is the pivotal moment in our life together.
I needed two tires and I was making just over minimum wage and going to college. Plus, I was willing to chance a wreck, thinking that it wouldn’t happen to me (money problems). Darryl noticed the issues on my car, and he told me that he would pay for ALL four tires to be replaced. Not just cheap tires (which would have been my pick) but good tires at Sam’s Wholesale where he had worked, and I was working at that time.
There is no way to express, thirty years later even, how much that act of love means to me even to this day.
I’ve been able to help Darryl make a few dreams come true in his life since that moment. However, even though the size of the ‘payback’ is different, I don’t know that I will ever feel like I’ve given him enough back for that example of love to me. I was starving (and didn’t know it) to feel wanted and he provided that feeling.
Forever.
So, before I break down in tears while I’m in a room with 200 people, I’ll close these Author Notes with a message he will probably NEVER read.
And I’m ok with that. The message isn’t to him anyway. It’s to let you know that I love my older brother, and I’m proud of him.
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
P.S. – This last Thanksgiving, my youngest son Joey Anderle (the author) noticed that his twin brothers car had a spare tire on the rear passenger side, because his brother had messed up his tire.
I never noticed it.
Joey is so tight with his money, that he still has income from his books from over a year ago. However, he went to his brother and told him that he would drive with him to Discount Tire and pay to have that tire replaced because it wasn’t safe to be traveling the hours from Texarkana to DFW.
It cost Joey (probably) the same amount of money that my older brother paid 30 years ago.
He (Joey) will also probably never read these author notes…. But in the quiet of Thanksgiving week, 2017, he made his dad very proud, choked up, and wiping tears from his eyes at the type of man he was becoming.
Recollection
Chapter One
Scowotz, Nexus, Tangki System
The axe spiraled through the air and sunk into the tree trunk, inches from the ogre’s face. The tyrant roared, his beady eyes murderous as he glared at the tribe around him. They grunted back, brandishing their axes, ready to throw.
This definitely wasn’t the safest place on Nexus, Verdok thought. He’d been searching the planet, trying to determine where Kyra had sent the boy with the mohawk, the last known person to hold the Tangle Thief. Shapeshifting, Verdok had assumed dozens of forms as he searched, and he was no closer than when he started.
The goon that Verdok had been punishing charged away from the tree, his large feet thundering across the forest floor. He pushed both smaller and larger tribe members down as he headed straight for Verdok, an ugly grimace on his flat face.
Smoke from the many fires wafted through the camp, where the primitive race on Scowotz huddled in leather tents or washed their wool clothes in a nearby stream. Verdok, having taken on the appearance of the savage race’s leader, sat cross-legged, the black smoke making his eyes burn with irritation. Around him, several of the tribe’s males stood, their stance protective. They had no idea that their trusted leader was lying face down in the river, where Verdok had left him.
Those from Nexus, Verdok had found, appeared almost human-like, except they were larger and had distinct differences in their mental and physical capabilities. For instance, this race from Scowotz all had larger heads and poor verbal skills. They were flat footed and nearly toeless, which gave them horrible balance. However, they made up for this with incredible strength and superior height. Even the females were all over six feet tall.
The giant pointed his fat finger in Verdok’s direction. “You! Me! Now!”
It had been like this since Verdok had taken on the form of the chief leader. He was constantly tested for his position. They were an ugly race that relied on brutish skills instead of democracy. No wonder this race is dying off. Well, also they slept in tents with dirt floors and never bathed.
The putrid smell of the males that charged by Verdok to defend him nearly made him pass out. He picked up the axe closest to him and jumped to a standing position. The chief was easily the largest in the tribe, which was obviously how he’d taken the role. Brandishing the axe over his head, he swung it from side to side, the way he’d seen one of the other males do before battle, obviously an attempt at intimidation. Verdok, as a shapeshifter, was unmatched in his ability to quickly pick up the behaviors of the entity he was impersonating.
The chief’s supporters jumped back, hooting deeply. The male who had been about to challenge dropped his chest down, his long arms dangling by his sides and knuckles brushing the ground. The giant grunted, his long hair hanging loosely in his face. Verdok swept his own mop of curly dreadlocks off his shoulders.
This race lived in the overcast north of Nexus for a reason. Their red hair and sensitive skin wouldn’t fare well on the southern continents, which Verdok had already searched finding wide open beaches and dark-skinned races who basked in the sun from morning until night.
The savage beat his chest, not at all deterred by Verdok’s show of intimidation. Although weapons weren’t something he was comfortable with, he’d watched the males of this tribe long enough to know that they never fought fearfull
y.
When his arm swung around, Verdok let go of the axe and it spiraled through the air, end over end, until it struck the beast in the chest. The giant’s thick hands reached for the axe lodged in his torso and froze before they connected with the handle. The crowd fell silent. The tribe members looked around with uncertainty. They grunted to each other, a babbling that grew in intensity as the giant stood frozen, his shocked gaze on the instrument protruding from his chest.
The brute gulped, and blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. This seemed to invigorate the crowd, their grunting growing in volume. The challenger stumbled forward several paces. Verdok didn’t move, even when his attacker was close, only five yards away. The beast rocked back on his heels, like he was thinking better of the decision to charge, but then he stepped forward, falling face-first on the axe.
The crowd cheered wildly, many of them throwing their meaty fists into the air. Verdok didn’t even grant the fallen tribesman a glance before turning to the rest of his tribe.
“Clear off!” he yelled. “There’s work to be done. Get to it!”
The crowd silenced at once, many of them looking at one another like they didn’t fully understand the order. Shrugging their enormous shoulders, they slowly dispersed. The men filed back in the direction of their tents, or toward the stream where the females were cleaning and gathering water. The surprise on their faces told Verdok that a leader usually celebrated after a victory when being challenged. However, Verdok didn’t care. He was only looking for an excuse to get as far from this primitive tribe as possible. The boy with the black mohawk hadn’t been here.
