He saw her face, tears streaking down her cheeks as she looked up toward the ship, as though she could actually see him looking down at her. She moved her lips, and though Jack was too far away to hear her, the word was clear.
“Go.”
Scallywag grabbed Jack and turned him face-to-face.
“WHAT ARE YA WAITING FOR?” the pirate screamed. “HURRY UP AND GET US—”
Suddenly, Jack’s fist flew out and struck the Visini in the face. Scallywag jerked back, more surprised than hurt, and rubbed his mouth as Jack looked up at him angrily.
Without a word, Jack turned and hopped into the control chair. Instantly, the bridge of the starship came to life. Jack pulled up the Entanglement Engine screen. Outside he could hear the onslaught as the Deathlords fired upon the ship.
He called up Anna on the holoscreen in front of him and choked back tears as he took one last look at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
And with that, he jumped the ship.
Chapter 34
"Do something!” Jack cried over the alarms of the vital sign monitors.
“And what would you have me do?” muttered Heckubus. “I’m a doctor of evil, not medicine!” The robot was furiously tapping away at the main medical console as Jack, Grohm, and Scallywag tried their best to hold down Shepherd, who was convulsing violently on the table in the middle of the medical bay.
The problem had started almost immediately after they had jumped away from the Deathlord mothership. They had rematerialized somewhere in the relative safety of empty space, with no Deathlords in sight, much to the amazement of Jack’s passengers, who’d never experienced a quantum space jump before.
“Blimee,” breathed Scallywag, looking out at the viewscreens. “What just happened?”
“Fascinating,” said Heckubus, tapping away at the ship’s navigational console. “The entire ship has teleported! Instantaneous space travel from one point to another… why, imagine the possibilities!”
The robot twiddled his fingers.
“The evil possibilities! Mwuahaha!” he said.
No sooner had the robot’s processors set about plotting numerous nefarious schemes using Entanglement Engine technology than a scream pierced the air. Jack turned, snapping out of the fog that had assaulted his head at leaving Anna behind in the grasp of the Deathlord Supreme. Up on the teleportation platform, still in the grip of Grohm, Shepherd was writhing and screaming in pain.
Jack leapt out of his chair and rushed to the Paragon’s side.
“Shepherd?” Jack said. “Shepherd, what’s wrong?”
Shepherd’s eyes were rolling toward the back of his head and his jaw was clenched so tight Jack was afraid he might crack his teeth. Suddenly, the man began to convulse.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jack cried out to no one in particular.
Scallywag knelt by Shepherd. “Hold him steady, Grohm,” the pirate ordered. Grohm put his massive hands on Shepherd to keep him from flailing around. Scallywag turned to Jack. “He must’ve been injured worse than we thought in his fight with the Deathlord Supreme,” Scallywag said. “Do ya have a medical bay on the ship?”
“I – I don’t know…” replied Jack.
“Well, go find out,” said Scallywag. “In the meantime, we’ll just try and keep the bugger from hurting himself further.”
Jack nodded and rushed out of the bridge and into the hallway of the ship. There were many doors lining the corridor, and Jack prayed one of them would be the medical bay.
Sure enough, the first door he tried seemed to be it. Jack had no idea what a medical bay looked like, but the room contained an observation table on which to lay a patient and lots of computers that looked like they belonged in some type of a hospital. He rushed back to the bridge and told Grohm to carry Shepherd there.
No sooner did they lay the Paragon on the table than the computers and monitors in the room sprang to life, showing various readouts and vital signs, none of which Jack understood. Heckubus quickly began pouring over the data.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jack asked. “Can you fix him?”
“Curious…” said the robot. “There appears to be nothing which would indicate he’s injured at all.”
“Yer reading the bloody instruments cock-eyed,” grumbled Scallywag. “There’s clearly something wrong with the man.”
“Far be it for me to argue with your vast medical knowledge, you dolt,” replied Heckubus, “but according to these readouts, he’s perfectly fine, barring a few minor electrical burns and bruises. Nothing that would explain the reaction we’re seeing.”
Shepherd screamed out in pain and his body jerked. Grohm leaned over him and tried to keep him from falling off the observation table. The monitors around the room began to beep in complaint.
“Are you sure?” asked Jack urgently. “He’s obviously not fine.”
“Of course, I am!” replied Heckubus, indignantly. “As if Regal physiology is too complicated for my massively brilliant mind to understand. Pah! All scans show that physically he is fine. No major wounds, viruses, cancers – not even a cavity. The computer shows he’s perfectly healthy.”
“Then what’s wrong with him?” shouted Jack, his frustration with the whole situation building. Heckubus turned his oblong head toward Jack and focused his large round eyes on him.
“I don’t know,” replied the robot simply.
Then, Shepherd started to convulse uncontrollably, which brings us up to speed to where we were at the beginning, with Jack and the others trying to restrain the Paragon, while Heckubus frantically searched for a way to heal him.
“I say,” muttered the robot. “There is some very impressive equipment in this medical bay. It’s light-years beyond anything that’s currently available in the known universe.”
“Can any of it help Shepherd?” Jack asked.
“Hard to know what to do when we can’t diagnose what’s wrong with him,” replied Heckubus.
“Well, do something, ya bloody tin can!” sneered Scallywag.
The robot sighed. “Fine. I suppose I can try this nervous system filter here. Perhaps that will get him to stop thrashing about so.”
“Anything!” pleaded Jack. “Just do it!”
Heckubus tapped a few keys on the medical console and from the ceiling of the medical bay, a solid block of green light shone down, encapsulating Shepherd. Within the block of light, tiny blue webs of what looked like lightning began to appear, touching down all over Shepherd’s body. Jack thought it almost looked like one of those weird science fair experiments where two charged metal balls shoot electricity between them.
All of a sudden, Jack could see Shepherd begin to calm down, and the Paragon stopped convulsing.
“It’s working!” Jack breathed.
Heckubus looked around at the life-sign monitors at his station. “Heart rate dropping, pulse slowing, blood pressure returning to normal…” reported the robot.
Then, the webs of blue lightning stopped and the solid block of green light climbed back up into its original location in the ceiling. Jack leaned over Shepherd whose eyes were closed. It looked like he had passed out again.
“Took ya long enough,” grumbled Scallywag.
“How often must I say it?” said Heckubus, exasperated. “You cannot rush genius.”
“Looked more like guesswork to me,” replied the pirate.
“Part of being a genius is guessing correctly,” said Heckubus smugly. “But next time, you can be the one to decipher the advanced medical technology while I deride your efforts, if that’ll make you happy.”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Jack.
“Of course he’ll be okay!” replied the robot. “The worst is obviously behind us.”
Suddenly, Shepherd’s body tensed, and his back arched in pain. Electrical tendrils began to erupt from the Paragon’s armor. Jack, Scallywag, and Grohm all noticed them at the same time, just as they rapidly began to spark and snake ar
ound Shepherd.
“Uh-oh,” said Jack.
Then, an eruption of electrical energy shot out from Shepherd’s armor. The force of the blast knocked back Jack and the others, sending Grohm smashing into some of the equipment. Scallywag was thrown against the far wall, and Jack landed by Heckubus, who quickly retreated from the main console that began shorting out from electrical overload.
The medical bay went dead and all the monitors ceased to transmit. Jack’s head was buzzing from the shock he had received. He looked up, his vision blurry, and he saw his companions strewn about the room. Scallywag was nursing the back of his head, while Grohm lay snorting in a pile of crushed computers.
“Hmmmmm. Perhaps I spoke too soon,” said Heckubus meekly.
Shepherd was lying still on the table, groaning slightly.
“Jack…” he said weakly.
Jack struggled to his feet and made his way to Shepherd’s side. Shepherd’s hard, grey eyes were now cloudy and distant, and his skin was pale and cold. The Paragon wore a pained expression on his face as he wheezed, struggling to breathe.
Jack didn’t know what to do. He reached out and grabbed the man’s hand, though he wasn’t sure if Shepherd could feel it through his armored gauntlet.
“I’m here, Mr. Shepherd…” said Jack.
Shepherd’s eyes seemed to focus on Jack’s face. “I’m… sorry…” Shepherd struggled. “It looks like… I won’t get to train you after all…”
Jack felt a lump catch in his throat. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“I… don’t know…” replied Shepherd. “It feels… like my very soul has been ripped apart… and it’s getting worse…”
“But, the computers–” said Jack. “They say you’re fine. They can’t find anything wrong with you.”
“The Deathlord Supreme…” continued Shepherd. “He was harvesting my life force… when you teleported me.”
Jack thought back to the brief moment when the Deathlord Supreme had almost ripped his life from his body, and instantly, he knew what Shepherd was referring to. If indeed they had interrupted the process, could it be that half of Shepherd’s soul had been left behind when they had rescued him? If that were the case, the shock might be the cause of what was happening.
“But, you’ll be okay, right?” asked Jack. “We can fix you, can’t we? Just tell me how, and we’ll do it.”
Shepherd shook his head sadly. “I… don’t think you can fix this…”
Jack felt tears welling up in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and held onto Shepherd’s hand tightly. “No,” he said. “You’re a Paragon. You’re invincible! You can kick the butts of twenty guys single-handedly! You can’t die.”
“How I wish… that were true…” said Shepherd, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Just manifest something!” pleaded Jack. “Think of something that will save you, and we’ll use it!”
“Jack, I–” suddenly Shepherd spasmed. Jack grabbed onto Shepherd’s face and tried to keep the man focused on him.
“Stay with me, Shepherd!” Jack demanded. “I can’t do this without you!”
Shepherd reached out, grabbing Jack’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes. “You’re going to have to…” he wheezed.
“No!” cried Jack. “Please!”
“Tell… Anna…” Shepherd struggled to speak, but before he could say any more, he began to convulse. Jack grabbed onto him and tried to steady him.
“Stay with me!” Jack pleaded. “Do you hear me, Shepherd? Stay with me!”
Shepherd looked at Jack, his eyes wide with pain, fear, and regret – a look that stabbed into Jack’s very soul, and would weigh heavily on his heart for the rest of his days. With his final breath, Shepherd said simply…
“Be strong.”
Jack looked on helplessly as Shepherd went limp, and his eyes stared vacantly into the distance as life left them.
Before he knew it, Jack had crumpled onto the floor, tears coming uncontrollably now. Feelings of fear and sadness crashed over him, wrapping around him like a constricting snake. His family and friends were gone. Anna was gone. And now, the one man he was relying on to save the day was gone, too.
Paragon Shepherd was dead…
…and all hope had just died with him.
Chapter 35
Jack sat in the corner of the medical bay, hugging his knees hard against his chest. He sniffed to keep his nose from running, and his red, puffy eyes stared across the room at the cold, hard table where Shepherd’s body lay. For a moment, Jack wished things were like they were in the movies, where the wise old mentor’s body would magically disappear and then his ghost would suddenly show up and tell him what to do.
But this wasn’t a movie. Shepherd’s body lay there, cold and still, a painful reminder that in reality, the dead didn’t come back.
Jack didn’t know how much time had passed since he watched the last bits of life fade from Shepherd’s eyes. All he knew was that he had no more tears left. He remembered crawling into the corner and crying, losing himself in his own grief. He didn’t notice when his companions had quietly left, leaving him to his sorrow in private. Jack didn’t blame them. They didn’t know Shepherd, and they barely knew him for that matter. What type of comfort would they have been able to provide?
As his grief subsided, thoughts raced through Jack’s mind. He thought about everything he’d lost and all the people who’d died. His mother, his friends, Major Ganix and the Regal soldiers, Professor Green, and Anna. Now, with Shepherd gone, what was left? He had no home to go back to. No one was alive to take care of him. He had absolutely nothing.
His stomach felt as though it were filled with lead, and a blanket of hopelessness had wrapped itself around him. He wanted to cry some more, but he just wasn’t able to. He gazed back at Shepherd, his once gleaming armor now seemed dull in the pale light of the medical bay.
This is all your fault, Jack thought. You’re supposed to be the hero. You’re supposed to be the guy who saves the day. If you really believed all that bull-crap about taking responsibility for your actions, you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to die!
Jack got to his feet. He walked over to Shepherd and looked down at him. The numbness inside gave way to a small ember of anger as he gazed upon Shepherd’s motionless face.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Jack asked.
Shepherd did not respond.
“You were going to teach me,” said Jack, his fists clenching. “You said I’d get to learn to fight the Deathlords. That we’d find a way to defeat them, together!”
Shepherd did not respond.
“You said I didn’t have to go through this alone! You said you’d be there for me!”
Shepherd did not respond.
“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW???” Jack screamed.
Shepherd’s lifeless body lay still. Jack turned away, sick of looking at it. He tried taking a deep breath, but the air tasted stuffy and stale to him. Suddenly, the room felt small, as if it were shrinking, closing in around him. He walked to the medical bay’s exit, and the doors opened with a hiss.
Out in the hallway, he was greeted with better lighting, and he sucked in the air as though he’d just come up from underwater. His anger died inside him, and again he felt empty and helpless.
Jack turned and walked, shuffling down the hallway of his spaceship. Everything was gleaming and shiny, friendly and new looking. But none of it alleviated the heavy sadness that had taken root inside him. Jack just felt tired, so very, very tired.
Images of his room at home sprang into his mind. The small, cramped room with the closet overflowing with dirty clothes and the tiny window where sunshine would sneak in. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed, pull the covers over his head, and sleep. Sleep, and make everything go away…
Home, Jack thought. I want to go home.
Jack heard a small “hiss” noise. He turned to his right where a door in the hallway had opened and stopped.
<
br /> Jack’s heart suddenly leapt, and it felt as though it were caught in his throat. His eyes went wide and his knees went wobbly. He didn’t move – he didn’t want to move, because he was afraid if he did, what he was seeing would disappear like some type of mirage.
But it didn’t disappear. It was there; Jack was sure of it.
Jack slowly turned his body and tepidly stepped into the doorway that had just opened. It was a small room, no bigger than most people’s bathrooms. Shoved into the corner, was Jack’s bed – messy and unmade, as he had usually left it – with faded blankets adorned with starships and superheroes all in a tangle.
The walls were littered with posters of professional wrestlers and kung fu movies; dirty clothes erupted from the tiny closet and were strewn about the floor.
A small window above the bed looked out into the starry night of outer space, and there was even a banged-up digital clock duct-taped to the wall.
Jack stepped back into the hallway in disbelief, and the door hissed shut. He stared at the shiny, inviting hallway door dumbly. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had he really seen what he thought he had just seen?
Jack stepped forward again, and the door hissed open in response.
Nothing had changed. Jack stepped inside and looked around. It was his room. It had all the same posters, all the same clothes, the same faded and stained wallpaper – it even smelled the same as he remembered it!
Jack collapsed on his bed and buried his face into his pillow. He wrapped the blankets around him, and a giddy laugh suddenly escaped from his throat. It felt exactly like his bed! It was his bed! He was home!
How? wondered Jack. How is this possible?
Jack rolled on his back and looked up at the water-damaged ceiling with a single lightbulb hanging precariously from its socket. That was his ceiling, all right. This was his room.
Jack sat upright in bed. His mind was racing. He knew what was happening was impossible. Every detail was exact – to a tee. How could an exact replica of his bedroom exist on a 50,000-year-old spaceship?
Jack thought about the ship. He remembered how, while he was piloting it, it seemed to change itself into what he was familiar with. He thought about finding the empty room where he could punch and kick and throw his tantrum. He thought about how he had found the medical bay the exact moment he needed it. And now, he had found his bedroom when all he had wanted more than anything in the world was to go home.
Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet Page 39