by Ma West
“Good, now tell me, how does your species measure life span, and where are you in that cycle?”
Hashmore could hear himself answer the question, but he felt more like a viewer than a participant. “We measure age in planet cycles around the sun. I am now in the last third of my life.” Hashmore was insulted by that last comment, even if he was the one making it.
“Good, I see the stone is now working properly. My children are boarding transports now, as we speak. Our ships are preparing for war, and our home is preparing to flee. The Great Mother offers us an immense challenge, a challenge so immense it requires an outcome worthy of its cost.” Baronious ended his pacing and returned to a close proximity, examining Hashmore’s face.
“My children will die today, and I want to know why. Who is the human Lord?”
Again Hashmore felt his body answering the question rather than his mind. “There is no human god, only the one true God.” The answer felt joyful as he heard it.
“Is your God the same God as the Great Mother’s?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this God?”
“I do not.”
“Is your God real?”
“My God is not physical.”
“Does your God protect you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I do not know.”
“Does your God reward you?”
“Yes.”
“How, does your God give your race special abilities?”
“No.”
“Does your God intervene when you face danger?”
“No.”
Baronious’s voiced raised with the next question. “Does your God smite your enemies?”
“No.”
“Does your God fill your stomachs with food and drink? Does your God lead you to safety? Does your God warn of you danger?”
“No.”
“And what does such a magnificent God ask of you in return?”
“Everything.”
A loud laugh burst out before Baronious continued. “So you believe in a God you haven’t met, felt, or seen. A God who fails to protect you. A God who demands so much in return. And this is the God the Great Mother wants my children to die in defense of?” Baronious turned back around and took a few steps toward the exit before asking his last question. “So what does your Lord give back in return?”
Hashmore cringed at the question. His brain failed to produce an answer, but his mouth did not, and Hashmore could only hear himself answer. “Love and forgiveness.”
A gentle grunt came out before Baronious spoke. “Forgiveness for what?”
“Anything we ask.”
Baronious left without speaking, but the sticky material holding Hashmore in place now drained out of the bottom, and he was soon free, if not filthy. The Annomite alien dropped some towels down on the ground, walked to the wall, indicated that it could be activated by inserting his arm into the wall, and demonstrated how to scroll through the options before leaving.
It took some time before the door opened and Aragnaught appeared. While the chemicals were wearing off, Hashmore still had difficulty navigating his body, as if his brain would transmit a series of images only to have it stall along the way and need to be reinterpreted by his blind body.
His mission of cleaning up finally complete, Hashmore lay idly wondering his next thought while listening to the echo of his last. He wanted to ask himself so much. Never before had he had such a genuine response to religious matters. In fact, he quite often avoided any public discussion of religion. Church was for those who needed to find the Lord. He just needed to try to live it. Now he had the opportunity to truly explore the ocean of his own beliefs, yet his own mind was drowning, too busy to look around.
“Are you in prayer now? Please tell me, does our Lord speak back?” Aragnaught spoke softly and with true interest.
“A good father listens to all of his children. My voice is no louder than yours, and I fail to understand what power it is that you think I have.”
“Would not an eldest or favorite son’s voice be heard the clearest?”
“That’s the human superpower?” Hashmore couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as he asked the question. “We are God’s favorite children? That sounds ridiculous. Seems to me, we might more likely be God’s naughtiest children. Do they not also draw the attention of a good father?”
Aragnaught paused in thought. “Is your race evil?”
“No, just individuals among us would be called evil. The rest I would call sinful.”
“Then it is good that we have a God who forgives, is it not?”
“We—but Baronious is very much against my God. Please tell me, who is your God?”
“We all have the same God. It’s all a matter of interpreting his message. I have heard the Great Mother speak. I have listened to their sermons, and I believe. So please, now tell me. How do you interact with the Lord? Your message is carried beyond the stone. No race before has ever been able to do such a thing.”
“Interact with the Lord? No, one follows the Lord, or one denies the Lord. There are no other choices.”
Aragnaught smiled, something Hashmore couldn’t remember seeing in this species before. “I do believe you would be a very interesting partner to discuss the matter with further, but I have been ordered by His Royal Ass-ship to take you to Mardoxx, who will escort you to mission control.”
Having returned to a less stressful environment, and a reduction in the chemical swimming, Hashmore now felt more able to interact normally. “His title sounds so strange. Is the stone translating it correctly?”
Aragnaught snickered. “The stone translates it in a different way to each species. May I presume that the title comes across as derogatory?”
“Well yeah, I would say it sounds unflattering at the least.”
“It is another victory over our prey. Yes, they originated the word as an insult, a curse, something designed to make our blood boil in fury.” Aragnaught’s voice rose with emotion momentarily. “But prey has no power over us! Baronious has taken their most evil of words for us and made a title of honor and glory. This is how we remind the prey that they hold no true power over us, simply title. ”
Hashmore finally rose, slowly, with fatigue and anxiousness of what was next to come. There was certainly no loss of passion and diversity with these aliens, but all the same, he wished for nothing other than to be home in his bed, to maybe pop a pill or two and escape into a world of the pre-sentient man—dreams. Life, however, never gave an inch, and Hashmore was once again being ushered off into the unknown.
Aragnaught led Hashmore through a series of corridors, passed a few security checkpoints, rode an elevator, and finally arrived at a massive platform. Two Dognosis agents stood at each side of the door, but they paid them no mind, their duties set on keeping others out. The platform stretched for nearly a quarter mile, with transport lines stacked multiple stories high.
Large crowds of aliens shuffled about, to and fro, most of them Dognosis, but other alien types were mixed in. Hashmore kept looking around, only to fall behind and need to rush to keep up, much like a child following a parent on a mission. While every placard, sign, or posting was unintelligible, the loudspeaker still echoed its words clearly inside his brain.
The two boarded a series of transports, each ride lasting between three and five minutes. Each exchange increased the variety and differences of aliens, yet its purpose as a transport was unmistakable. Aragnaught took great joy in introducing some of the stops and announcing which species was most likely to be going where, but to Hashmore, it was all just a wash of newness.
Aragnaught took great efforts to make Hashmore feel engaged, and despite his military background, he really didn’t come across as the soldier type. Aragnaught signaled Hashmore that they had arrived, but he paused for a moment in dramatic fashion before exiting the transport. “Welcome, my friend. This is the heart of the ark. We call it the city
of eternity, the city of the blessed, and the city of a forever hope, Xeanna.”
Hashmore felt his breath leave him as his eyes scanned the enormity of where he was. The general shape of the ship was cylindrical, with the vast city sprawling out and covering most of the inner surface. His eyes were drawn to the middle of the ship. Suspended in the exact middle were three spheres, each one inside another. A center sphere, a perfect ball, appeared to be full of water. Hashmore could see motion inside but was unable to identify it. A second sphere surrounded the water sphere and was occupied by several small platforms, all empty at the moment. Last was a rotating exterior ring, large but empty except for a circular hole that moved about.
“We call it Blazerball, and it turns out that some of the new arrivals are naturals at it.” Aragnaught walked up to a wall and activated a view screen, otherwise invisible. Soon Aragnaught had a close-up image on the screen, and Hashmore was amazed to see dolphins. “We were mistakenly informed that these creatures were sentient, and while they are close, we have had to find a useful purpose for them, or else eat them.”
“Glad to see it turned out for the former.” Hashmore felt like a child. He had no comments, no ideas, just stunned exploration. Dozens of various species walked by, none seeming to notice or care about the arrival of yet another new species. The platform was again awash with life, hustle and bustle, and from here, Hashmore wouldn’t have known a thing about what was going on in the world outside this city, had he not been a part of it.
A few screens running along a wall displayed various cultural oddities—some dancing aliens, an alien engaged in music creation, a highlight of a Blazerball score, and then two humans jumping off a building. The two fell fast. One landed on top of a vehicle flying in their direction, while the other human—a man, from the appearance of it—continued plummeting.
“Ah, yes, here he comes now, Mardoxx!” Aragnaught signaled high into the sky, toward the quickly approaching Tilotin. Mardoxx landed quite brazenly next to the two. The tension between them was much less than Hashmore had expected, allowing him to relax some. They greeted each other as close acquaintances, but Hashmore was unable to participate, for as much as he wanted to, his eyes kept drifting back to the display. Once again, he was dumbfounded and amazed. For all the size of the universe, it proved to be small enough, for on the display was now a woman—a woman he knew, and a woman he didn’t really care to know.
Hashmore’s memory drifted back. Oh, how he did love her brothel. Most brothels felt dirty and used. She, however, the lady on the display, was the most remarkable pimp he had ever met. The mayor frequented her establishment, and most of his dealings with her had been damage control, yet she made a customer out of him too. She was a woman of silence, confidence, a master of the subtle control, and a leader of people—in short, she was a woman a man could fall in love with.
Mardoxx and Aragnaught came up to Hashmore from behind, saying nothing and only thinking curious thoughts, transmitted softly by the stones. Hashmore felt his cognitive functions returning from their state of amazement. “Who is she, and why is she on display here?”
The two aliens looked at each other, deciding who should answer, when Aragnaught smiled and spoke. “That is one of the two humans who have been chosen for the test.” The next question must have been empathically transmitted across, for Hashmore never even heard the words. “Yes, a test to determine a species’ moral assessment and ability to display compassion. We are a very diverse group here. It is important that we weed out those species unable to make proper moral judgments.”
Mardoxx spoke next. “The ark itself does not have a criminal code, so we can only accept those sentient beings capable of making moral decisions, expressing a defense of their actions, and accepting others’ judgment in areas of dispute. This woman here was one of two to be judged in determining whether your species meets our moral requirements.”
Hashmore unconsciously swallowed, nervous that the entirety of his species’ morality was being determined by a pimp whore. “When will she be judged?”
Aragnaught responded with a slight sense of excitement in his voice. “Oh no, she has already passed the test. Otherwise, you never would have made it this far.”
Mardoxx continued. “We have already granted you an audience with two of our most influential leaders. We would never have allowed such meetings to occur had your species, and you personally, not met our standards.”
“Where is she? Is she here on the ark? Can I meet her? Now?” Hashmore’s voice rose slightly in nervous excitement.
Aragnaught and Mardoxx looked at each other again, only this time Mardoxx spoke first. “She is the center of everything. It could only have been divine intervention that brought her to us, and the power of sin to have her taken away. No, maybe you do not yet understand. That woman is carrying God’s child, and we have lost her, so we must now ask others to risk everything in order to get her back.”
Aragnaught pounded his chest in ceremonial tradition. “A challenge and cause the Dognosis clan is happy to accept. My brethren, faithful to the cross or to the clan, will not accept failure, even if it costs us our lives.”
Mardoxx turned to Hashmore. “Our time grows ever shorter, and the battle has begun. We must assume our places in mission control as soon as possible. Come, I will answer your questions as we travel.” Hashmore was once again in the arms of an alien, being whisked away, farther into a situation beyond his comfort or comprehension.
Oh, Lord, why does your message never come clearly? How can these beings be your children? Oh, Lord, why am I tested this way? Before, the answers were also so clear—see evil, destroy evil. Now, Lord, I see evil in the good around me. I see monsters using me as a political pawn. I see good in the evil around me as these monsters risk their lives, yet, Lord, they risk their lives on the sins of my past. Oh, Lord, how could you choose such a woman as her to be your incubator? Oh, Lord, what am I to do in all of this? Oh, Lord, if you can hear us clearly, why do we not hear you? How are we, such simple fragile beings, supposed to carry out your will in a universe where we are so weak?
“How can the baroness be at the center of all this? What does that mean? You said she was only going to be tested.”
Mardoxx flapped his wings and worked himself into a rhythm so as to speak only on his exhales. “True. She was only . . . to be tested. Fate, however, delivered . . . her to us. Yet we were too . . . careless. We let the knowledge es . . . cape, and the empire came.”
“I still don’t understand, knowledge of what?”
“A promise fulfilled.”
“Damn it, that doesn’t mean anything. Tell me something I can understand.”
“Our Lord only speaks . . . in parables. We have never met . . . our Lord. We must find our . . . proof in the . . . universe around us. Miracles and enlightenment . . . are our guide. The brood your . . . baroness holds . . . is a miracle.”
“That vaguely answers my question.” The realization that a woman he had nearly completely forgotten about was pregnant by another man stoked a fire of jealousy he didn’t anticipate.
Mardoxx rose dramatically, and once again, the two were being escorted as they approached another hole-shaped entrance. This entry point was different, however. Heavily secured and guarded, there was no adjoining habitat attached to the other side. Hashmore thought that this just might be the very front of the ship.
An alarm echoed, and lights buzzed throughout the great ship. “The Wilde have arrived. The Wilde have arrived.”
Chapter 43
Fight or Flight
Once more, Hashmore was sucked through a hole and placed in a new one. This time, the sky of the universe expanded out in every direction, except down—or back, depending on how he looked at it. An immensely beautiful blue filled the quadrant to his left, and a dampened sun still shone brightly as its rays crossed from his right, racing toward Earth.
Hashmore craned his neck up high, and a big HUD enlarged the image of a circular object un
der construction. Dozens of small craft zipped about as sparks and cranes danced in a hurried fashion. Suddenly, bolts of light spread across the screen, more and more, until a barrage of them was in sight. One of the small craft imploded, sending chunks of debris everywhere.
Just as suddenly, new streams of light appeared, heading in the other direction. The camera zoomed out, and Hashmore was able to recognize that a space battle was underway. Dozens of craft scurried about, seen as red and green highlights with alien symbols next to them as they chased their pinned object around the map.
This room was very open. A window to space spanned the ceiling. A small seating area arranged in church-pew fashion stood in the middle. A lone alien, a new species, stood next to an interface, leaving the rest of the room barren. The alien standing alone had a face made of eyes, dozens and dozens of them. His central core was oval, but it had several extremities protruding from nearly every side of it.
Mardoxx whispered as he gently hopped in lead of Hashmore, toward the seating area. “That is General Pigmy. He has been designated mission leader, and he now holds final authority in all matters until the battle is over.” As the two crossed an invisible line, a visual alarm activated on one of Pigmy’s screens, bringing a small MOP bot scurrying hurriedly toward them.
A voice echoed in Hashmore’s head as the small bot threw up a small staff with a light attached and turned around, indicating that it should be followed. “Human representative, your input is deemed required by mission command. You will proceed immediately.”
Mardoxx used his little arms to wave Hashmore forward, and he hesitantly followed this small robotic wonder. Hashmore was led to a podium in front of the seating area, where a circular light indicated where he was to stand. The enormity of the situation that was unfolding in front of him was overwhelming. Luckily, the voices in his head were powerful and straightforward.