Forbidden World

by Jeremy Michelson

  Which usually worked out well, but not always.

  But for him, this crew was an advantage. For now.

  “Sensor Technician Tak,” he said.

  "Yes, sir."

  “Has the object shown up on the far scan yet?” Zek asked.

  The sensor technician, a thin and weak individual that created feelings of disgust for any true warrior, worked his console for a moment.

  The weakling shook his head, making his gray-tinged tentacles quiver.

  “No sir,” he said, “No signs of it.”

  “Keep scanning.”

  It was the only good news they’d had lately. If the object that had attacked them returned…

  They only had a couple tricks left to fight it off. And then their only option was to run. At least the Hojan’s Murder seemed to be faster than the object.

  Running was not something a true Don did. Though strategic retreat was occasionally an acceptable alternative.

  He considered his acceptable alternatives.

  The Hojan’s Murder had a single landing craft aboard. Assuming it worked. Central Defense Command had taken to retrieving parts from outer patrol boats for more important ships. The landing craft–which was really meant for ship to ship exchanges in space–was technically capable of landing on the planet.

  He could send it down with a small contingent of security personnel to retrieve Tejoh and the two Earth creatures.

  But would that be enough?

  And would the security personnel be smart enough to complete the task without a leader there to guide them? Captain Tejoh might order them to do something else. He was, after all, still the captain.

  If Zek went down with him, that would leave The Hojan’s Murder basically without a captain. If the object suddenly reappeared…

  Zek suppressed a shudder.

  There was no winning solution here. Only a decision that might be slightly less terrible than the other.

  And really, there wasn’t a choice at all.

  He swiveled the command chair toward Sensor Technician Tak’s station. Why, for the love of Bogna, had Defense Command made Sensor Technicians third in the chain of command?

  “Sensor Technician Tak,” he said.

  Tak straightened up. The fear was plain in the man’s eyes, the slightly hunched stance of his body.

  "Yes, sir."

  “I will be taking the excursion craft down to the planet to retrieve Captain Tejoh,” Zek said, “You will be in command until we return. I have specific instructions that you will follow to the letter.”

  Tak’s eyes widened with what could only be terror. His throat worked. His hands trembled. But he did not protest.

  “Yes sir,” he said.

  Zek sighed and looked to the frozen image on the screen.

  If he was lucky, his greed wouldn’t get him killed.

  Forty-Four

  Titus

  T&T shrank back against the cold, stone wall as Chris stalked toward him with murder in his eyes.

  Suddenly the guy didn't seem so wussy anymore.

  This whole mission was seeming more and more like a terrible idea. Especially since everyone and everything seemed to want to hurt him in some way. And how much longer would it be until they progressed into outright murder?

  He had no intention of sticking around for that.

  “Where is she?” Chris said.

  For, like, the millionth time.

  Chris’ hands were hooked into claws. Like the guy was just itching to put his paws around someone’s throat.

  T&T’s eyes darted to their new buddy, the Don.

  God those things were creepy.

  And stinky. Like rancid meat.

  He’d seen pictures of Dons, of course. But that wasn’t the same as being stuck in a room with one, geez.

  For one thing, they were blue. Like blue skinned. With creepy orange eyes in a kinda triangular shaped head, with the chin coming down to a point. But then there were the thick tentacles sprouting from the sides of their heads. Weird and gross. They also had long fingers that had sharp looking claws at the ends.

  The Dons looked like something that might jump out of nightmare closet and rip the crap out of a guy.

  Not cool. Not cool at all.

  “Dude, I swear I don’t know,” he said, “I thought she could kick anything’s ass.”

  Chris’ eyes narrowed and his face flushed a deeper shade of red. He came up, face to face. Heat poured off him like a furnace. Cripes, was the guy going to go critical or something?

  “Dude,” Chris said–well, more like growled–“You’ve been with that metal murder worm for a few days. You should know something about it by now. Other than how to lead it to our ship so it could blow it to bits.”

  T&T shrank a little further back against the wall. If it were possible, he’d melt right into it and hide forever.

  “Yeah, about that,” he said, “Wasn’t my intention…”

  He trailed off at the look in Chris’ eyes.

  Chris put his hands on the other side of the wall beside T&T's head. The dude had kind of a spicy smell to him. Like the dust on this wacky, creepy planet. Course, other than the Don, everything on this planet smelled like a spice rack fell into a blender.

  “One of those things captured Liz,” he said, “Like that murder worm captured you. Since you’re not dead, we’re going to make the same assumption about Liz. Now, where did that thing take you?”

  T&T’s gaze darted to the Don. The creepy alien had pulled the armor back from its head. The thing looked like murder itself. The armor was wicked looking with all that shiny black and those lighting-like blue zigzags on it. And those tentacles sticking out of the sides of its head. What the heck were those for anyway?

  Other than for looking fricking creepy.

  Creepy seemed to be a theme around here.

  Chris had dragged them all back down into the tunnel system. Back to the bone room. He’d said it was the only place he knew that had atmosphere. But it was also creepy as hell.

  The Don was looking from the pile of bones, then to Chris and him and back again. Was the alien dude noticing there were some familiar looking bones in there? A long lost uncle or something?

  “T&T, stay with me here,” Chris said, “I need you to stay focused.”

  T&T still had most of the environmental suit on. The helmet was in his right hand. In theory, he could bring the helmet up and smack Chris in the head or other, more sensitive, areas. But that seemed likely to just make him madder.

  He still had the vacuum pack with his pills in it slung over his back. The battle-ready pill he'd taken earlier didn't seem to be doing its magic like it should. Right now his senses should be hyped. Energy should be surging through him. His mind should be clicking over like a runaway train going downhill with a tailwind.

  But it had all burned off too quick.

  Maybe the pill was defective. If he could get away from crazy Chris for a minute, maybe he’d pop a berserker pill.

  That would get someone’s attention.

  “Where did the murder worm take you after it left this room?” Chris said.

  T&T’s eyes darted from the Don, to the bone pile, back to Chris. Should he tell him? It seemed like a bad idea not to.

  But, if he told him, then Chris or the Don might claim all that gold for themselves.

  Chris slowly moved his hands from the wall. Put them on T&T’s shoulders. Squeezed hard enough to be felt through the suit.

  “T&T, I’m not playing with you,” Chris said, “I’m really feeling like hurting something right now. Do you really want to make me mad?”

  On the other hand, what good was gold if a guy wasn’t alive to spend it?

  “Okay, well…there was this room,” he said, “Like it was made out of gold.”

  Chris stiffened. Emotions played over his face. Emotions like rage and fear all rolled up into some nasty acid combination that was going to eat through the guy’s face and spray out all over everythin
g.

  Being somewhere else when that happened would be a great idea.

  “That’s where that winged murder nugget got Liz,” Chris hissed through his teeth, “It flew off down the tunnels. Where would it have taken her?”

  T&T shook his head–along with his entire body. “I don’t know,” he said, “Maybe it just looped back to the room after you left. There were other things in there.”

  “Like what?” Chris said.

  “Like these smaller worm things. There were like four of them, in different sizes. And some snake thing.”

  “What else? What was in the room?”

  “Don’t you know? I thought you said you–”

  Chris slammed his fist against the wall. It should have broken every bone in the guy’s hand. Instead, blue and orange sparks shot out from the impact.

  “The thing attacked us as the door opened,” Chris said, “That winged thing grabbed Liz and flew away. I chased after it. I haven’t been back.”

  T&T shrugged and gave him a smile. Take it easy, relax dude.

  Probably best not to say that out loud.

  “It took my ship,” the Don said, “I need my ship. It has things to eat in it.”

  Chris raised a finger to the Don, without turning to look at it. He kept his burning eyes on T&T. Dang it.

  “We’ll get to your problems later,” he said, “Right now I have more important things to beat someone up about.”

  The Don huffed and turned away. Back to the bone pile. He nudged a Blinky skull with one armored foot.

  That dude wasn’t going to be any help.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Chris said, “We’re going to that gold room of yours. I’m going to throw you in there and see what happens. How about that?”

  T&T shook his head violently. “Dude, really don’t want to. Those things in there are messed up.”

  “You seem to have figured out how to communicate with them. Dude,” Chris said.

  Communicate might be a rather strong word for what he and the metal worm things had. Mostly they just repeated what he’d say. Which was fun for a while. But the novelty wore off pretty quick.

  Dude, my dick is soooooo hard right now…

  He shuddered. Really should have thought that through a little better.

  “Okay, man,” T&T said, “But those things are mean. We need some plasma blasters or something.”

  “You mean like the ones in the ship your murder worm buddy blew up?” Chris said.

  Gulp. He should have tried to nab something from the armory before he split from the ship.

  “Liz used a hundred thousand watt plasma blaster on the big worm,” Chris said, “Didn’t even slow it down.”

  T&T’s gut twisted. Oh man. Hundred grand plasma cannon? How did she even lift that…never mind.

  “We should just lay low,” he said, “Wait for somebody to come rescue us. Maybe that Don ship.”

  Chris’ face twisted with something like rage. Or maybe stomach pain. No, definitely rage.

  “We’re not going anywhere without Liz,” he said, “I–”

  All of a sudden, there was a huge, black knife sticking out of Chris’ chest. Blood rolled down the edge of the blade and dripped to the ground. Chris’ eyes went wide. Then stared off into forever.

  His body slumped. Tipped over and tumbled to the floor with a wet thud.

  The Don dude in the armor pulled the long blade out of Chris’ back. He wiped it on Chris’ shirt. Then the blade retracted into the right arm of the Don’s armor. He turned to T&T.

  “Dude,” T&T said, “You shouldn’t have done that. That just pisses him off.”

  The Don kicked Chris’s (currently) dead body. It flipped over onto the bone pile. The Don shrugged.

  “He looks dead to me,” he said.

  The Don took another step closer. Put his armored hand against T&T’s throat.

  “Tell me about this room of gold,” he said.

  Forty-Five

  The Dendon

  Koba gripped the sword in one sweaty hand. His thick, leather armor over his chest and back chafed as sweat rolled down his body. Smoke from the sulfurous fires swirled around him. Choking his lungs and stinging his eyes. Somewhere, out in the darkness, the heart of the Dragon beat.

  Thump thump…Thump thump…

  He was so far from the tiny village of Galveen. The peaceful place where he and been born and spent the first ten summers of his life. Life had been so simple in the little village at the feet of the jagged Bayet mountains.

  At least until the King walked out of the Great Southern Desert.

  Ivfa reached out and touched his arm. Nearly made him jump out of his skin.

  He spared a moment to gaze upon her in the dim, ruddy light. How had she grown up to be such a beautiful woman? Such a fierce warrior.

  What he wouldn’t give to be back in the village, cleaning the fragrant untoal seeds for the village mothers to add to the common pot for supper.

  When was the last time he’d even had an untoal seed?

  Would there ever be any more? Everything was burned now. The forests. The scrub brush. The meadows scorched down to bare dirt.

  Their world was dead. They were just crawling over its corpse.

  Soon, they would be dead, too.

  “Soon now,” Ivfa said. Her own leather and metal armor was oiled and polished to a sheen. It practically glowed in the low, ruddy light from the fires.

  The smoke had coarsened her voice. When she wasn’t battling the armies of the lords and dukes and warlords, she had a beautiful singing voice. She had been composing a ballad of the King and their adventures.

  Which was funny, since he was supposed to be the King’s Herald. Ivfa was much better at communicating that he was. Or, more truthfully, she was more of a chameleon. She had a way of insinuating herself into groups and conversations. She was a masterful spy, really.

  Skills the King had put to good use.

  For such a good person, the King could be incredibly ruthless. How did he like to put it?

  Sacrifices will be made so that our world may live.

  So far, the King hadn’t sacrificed him and Ivfa. But there were times it had been close.

  “Where is he?” Koba said.

  “He’s where he needs to be, Koba,” Ivfa replied.

  Sometimes he was jealous of Ivfa’s closeness to the King. Once, he had asked her outright if the King was using her body for his pleasure.

  She’d laughed at him. No, Koba. He doesn’t need that. Though if he asked it of me, I would say yes. And so would you.

  His face still burned at the memory of it. And the truth of it.

  How had it come to this?

  The King was supposed to bring everyone together. Bring peace back to Dendon.

  Instead, the wars seemed to get worse. The warlords just banded together against the King's pitiful army. An army that was incredibly, almost ridiculously, loyal.

  But no match for the hordes of enraged mercenaries paid for by the warlords.

  And now they were off hunting dragons.

  Nothing the King did made any sense. Koba had been trying to tell Ivfa–for years now–that the King was insane. Anyone who walked barefoot out of the Great Southern Desert must have had their brains baked to dust.

  “It’s coming,” Ivfa said, “Get ready.”

  “Ivfa, this is mad,” he said, “How am I supposed to kill a dragon?”

  “You’re not supposed to kill it,” she said, “You’re supposed to best it.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This is the Challenge, Koba,” she said, “Through this, you prove you are worthy to become King.”

  “But I don’t want to be King!”

  “No one who wants to be King should be the King,” she said. Matter of factly.

  Koba rolled his eyes and threw his non sword holding hand up. No one ever listened to him. How was he supposed to be King when no one would listen to him? And what
was the point of being King of a dead world?

  “Ivfa,” he said, “Why can’t he keep being King? He already has the job. Let him keep doing it?”

  Ivfa turned to him. Her eyes were sad. She put her hand on his shoulder. The hot, sulfurous smoke swirled around them. It was so hard to breathe in this muck that he was getting a little light headed.

  “Koba. He cannot stay,” she said, “Every day he stays here, the world dies a little more. He doesn’t belong here. That’s why you must become King.”

  A terrible chill ran through him. All the way down to his bones. There were things about the King that he had suspected. Things hinted at. But the King had never confided in him the way he did with Ivfa.

  “What are you saying, Ivfa?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t want me to tell you.”

  He thrust the sword into the ground. Grabbed Ivfa’s arms and pulled her close. She didn’t resist, though she could have easily broken every bone in his body before he could blink.

  The King had taught her well.

  “Who is he really?” He said, “Where does he come from?”

  She gave him a sad smile. “He is the King,” she said, “Where he came from doesn’t matter as much as what he brings us.”

  He squeezed her arms. Which she probably hardly felt through her armor.

  “All he’s brought us is sorrow and death,” he said, “Look around you. Everything is death. His promises were empty. He hadn’t done anything to stop the wars. He’s made them worse, can’t you see?”

  “That was necessary,” she said, “Only when we are at the brink of extinction can we strip away all the lies that surround us.”

  He let go of her. Stepped back. The horror of her words burned inside him. He should run. The King had twisted her so far that her soul was corrupted with his poison.

  But he could never leave her.

  Not even if her heart had been stolen from him.

  “Ivfa…”

  He wanted to ask her to run away with him. Run from all of the King’s madness.

  But there was nowhere place to go any longer. Maybe there were still pockets of unspoiled land in the far Western Ocean. But there was no way to get there.