Forbidden World

by Jeremy Michelson

  I turned my back on all of them and stepped through the doorway.

  And immediately got stabbed in the back.

  Literally.

  Again.

  Pain ripped through my back and chest. I looked down to see a jagged black blade sticking out of my chest, dripping with my blood.

  Damnit. I’d forgotten about Zek and his armor.

  Turning my back on a Don was always a terrible idea.

  I really needed to stop doing it.

  “You shouldn’t have done that!” T&T shouted.

  I heard something that sounded like someone getting punched in the face, then a heavy thump. Followed by a bunch of beefy Don soldiers laughing.

  Their harsh laughs were the last thing I heard as the light faded and I plunged into darkness.

  Again.

  Sixty-Three

  Kawl Tejoh

  The Earth creature's environmental suit was ill-fitting and smelled like the ass of a forninbear. But at least it was clothing of a sort and some protection from a sudden lack of breathable oxygen.

  Kawl Tejoh, Glorious Captain of The Hojan’s Murder and heir to the lordship of Huntakin (albeit quite a ways down the line of heirs) strode down the corridor of doorways.

  The stink of hot plasma filled his nostrils as Zek went ahead, blasting the doorways open. The guards followed, their raucous yells echoing down the hall.

  It was good to see the men in a good, old-fashioned pillage. The only thing that could have made it better was a few natives to rape and slaughter. All the men had was the corpse of that Earth creature and the one that was still alive. For the moment.

  If the men needed to let off a little steam…

  But first, they needed to find a way off this wretched planet.

  Zek had related to him the unfortunate fact of the excursion craft’s demise. Once they returned to the homeworld, he would, of course, have Zek executed for the loss of the ship, among other things. But in the meantime, Zek was quite useful.

  Though it was an insult that his first officer had a better class of armor than him.

  A tiny part of his mind suggested he should think of this fact a little further. But he had no interest. There were more important things to think about.

  Like the contents of these rooms.

  A part of him had expected mountains of golden treasure. Or piles of Dendon technology. Advanced weapons. Armor.

  Some food would be nice, too. It had been far too many hours since he ate. And the nutrient bars the Earth creature had in his bag were disgustingly inedible. They might as well have been shat directly from a jorkenbird.

  Not that Dendon food would be any better. Especially after sitting around for a couple millennia.

  But so far, the rooms had been disappointing. Meeting rooms. Sleeping quarters. Storerooms full of empty shelves.

  The guards were getting quite irate at the lack of clothing available. Not even a bed sheet to cover their nakedness.

  “Captain!” Zek shouted.

  The commander stood near the end of the long corridor. Kawl quickened his pace. The guards were gathering around the door. Peering in and going strangely quiet.

  He strode up to the still smoking door, wrinkling his nose as the acrid stench of hot plasma and burned metal.

  “What is it?” He said.

  Zek moved aside.

  Kawl stepped up. Scowled at Zek, then turned his gaze into the room.

  No, not a room. Not at all.

  A hanger.

  With a delicate, curving form of a starship sitting inside it. Lights slowly came up inside the hanger, illuminating the craft. It was white and silver and looked more like an ethereal bird about to take flight than a spaceship.

  It was the only thing in the hanger. Which appeared to be spotlessly clean.

  He let his gaze roam over the room. The walls were smooth and light gray. They rose up to a flat roof that appeared to have an iris design on it. The way out. Because if there was a ship sitting in this secret hanger, of course it had to have a way out.

  Kawl turned to Zek. The fool was probably grinning under his armored mask.

  “We may have a way off this blasted planet,” Kawl said, “Get inside it and see if it’s functional.”

  “Yes, sir!” Zek said.

  He bounded into the hanger, his armored feet ringing against floor.

  “Captain.”

  Kawl turned around. Master Sergeant Bav Kyn stood at the door across from the hanger. Kawl kept his eyes up, not wanting to view the sergeant’s impressive genitalia.

  “What?”

  The sergeant waved a hand at the doorway. It was just as blasted as all the other useless doors down the corridor. Zek had gone along, blasting them all and letting the guards explore the contents.

  Kawl stepped across the hallway and poked his head into the room.

  And this was a room. Albeit a fairly large one.

  It needed to be large to accommodate the rows and rows of weapons inside it.

  Kawl's stomach did a few flip-flops at the sight of all of it. A tingle of excitement went through his body.

  This was it. This was the payoff for all the horrible things that had happened on this lousy mission.

  He stepped through the door. Went up to the nearest rack of weaponry. Ran his hand over the silvery barrel of the Dendon weapon. The weapon was cold and oh so lethal looking.

  He nearly jumped as someone stepped up beside him.

  "If I had to take a guess," Sergeant Bav Kyn said, "I'd say it was some sort of projectile weapon, by the look of the ammunition cartridge."

  Whatever it was, it was beautiful. And most likely deadly. He cast an eye about the room. Taking in the variety of weapons. And armor. Tall, thin armor. Built to fit long dead troops. But no doubt it could be modified.

  He snapped his fingers and waved in the rest of the guards.

  “Take an inventory,” Kawl said, “Arm yourselves as you see fit. And find some armor for me.”

  The guards rushed to the racks of weapons, cheering and shouting. He put his fists on his hips.

  Finally. Things were starting to look up.

  Sixty-Four

  Titus

  Oh man. Bad. This was so very bad.

  T&T knelt by the bloody and very, very dead body of Chris. Who wasn’t coming back to life like he was supposed to.

  From the long hallway, he heard the Don soldiers yelling and laughing. At least they were having a good time.

  Things would have been better if that asshole Don hadn't stolen his environmental suit. Now he was back to being naked in the golden room. Right fricking back where he started.

  So unfair.

  At least those rancid meat stinking Dons hadn’t murdered him yet. Though that might not be a good thing. The way some of them were eyeing him…

  It didn’t take much imagination. Soldiers in combat, cut off from their chain of command, occasionally lost their sense of civilization. Not that these Dons were restrained by any sort of civilization.

  He cast an eye up and down Chris’s very, very still body. Well, he did have clothes. And if the guy was truly dead this time, it wasn’t like he needed them, right? In fact, Chris would probably want T&T to take his clothes. Like, Hey bro, I’m dead, I don’t mind.

  Plus, with Chris dead, that would give him an in with Liz.

  Assuming she wasn’t dead, too.

  He glanced over at the platform and the golden form of Liz. If she woke up, she’d want some comforting, right?

  Totally.

  Actually, maybe things weren’t so bad after all. Uncle Mattany would be thrilled that Chris was dead. Ecstatic, maybe.

  Though the general would be pissed if the Dendon artifact didn’t come back. But…if Chris stayed dead, then that meant the artifact stopped working, right? Problem solved. Uncle Mattany wouldn’t want a broken artifact. Would he?

  No, he wouldn’t.

  So. New plan. Strip off Chris' clothes, trying as much as possible to i
gnore the blood-soaked holes in the shirt. Then, convince the Dons to give him a ride back to Earth. Return to Earth a hero. Retire to a nice tropical island with Liz. Well, maybe Liz and a few smoking hot natives. Open relationships were the best way to go, right? She'd understand.

  Yup. Sounded like a plan. He’d work the details out on the fly. That’s the way the best plans worked.

  He leaned over Chris and grabbed one of his shoes. Maybe a little big, but better loose shoes than no shoes.

  “Sorry dude,” he said, “But I need ‘em more than you do.”

  Sixty-Five

  Zek

  Where did the sword go?

  Zek studied the controls of the Dendon spacecraft, inhaling the stale, yet spiced scent of the interior. He'd retracted the helmet and gauntlets of his armor. The cool air prickled his skin. At least the hanger was still pressurized with breathable air.

  But even as his eyes swept over the sleek console and the too long cockpit chairs, the question kept popping back into the front of his mind.

  Where had the sword gone?

  The Earth creature–or Chris, as it insisted on being called–had carried the strange sword with the blade that had icy blue flames licking up and down the length of it. That the weapon was of Dendon manufacture there was no doubt. It had the same simple design aesthetic that was a hallmark of everything Dendon.

  And it appeared to use technology so advanced that it might as well have been magic.

  After Zek had run his armor’s blade through the Earth creature, he had gone to retrieve the sword.

  But by the time he bent over the Earth creature’s corpse, the sword was gone. As if it had vanished into thin air.

  Captain Tejoh and the guards hadn’t paid attention to the sword the Earth creature carried. Especially the captain. Tejoh would have demanded the sword be turned over to him.

  But none of them said anything.

  Was it possible he had imagined the weapon’s existence?

  No. If he had imagined the sword, why not imagine the Earth creature? Why not imagine this entire planet?

  No…the sword had existed. Right up to the point where it didn’t.

  It had gone…somewhere.

  Zek had turned the body over, looking for the weapon. Nothing. For a moment he had considered the other Earth creature. Perhaps it had stolen the weapon. But, no, it was too far away.

  There was nowhere else it could have gone.

  It disturbed him greatly.

  “Commander Zek!”

  Zek jerked upright, spinning around.

  Captain Tejoh stood in the doorway. Still dressed in the Earth creature’s ridiculous and fragile space suit. But, at least he wasn’t naked.

  There were no circumstances in which he wished to see his superior officers unclothed.

  Never.

  Tejoh strode onto the command deck of the Dendon craft. He made a show of looking around.

  “So. Does this piece of crap work?” Tejoh asked.

  Zek made a small (very small) bow to the captain.

  “I am working to ascertain that, Captain,” he said, “At the moment, systems seem to be coming online automatically.”

  He waved a hand at the control consoles and displays at the front of the command deck. When he’d entered, the cabin lights had rose to life and some of the consoles had lit up. Honestly, he was amazed. This ship must have sat here since the Dendon people’s demise. Millenia. Yet it was still at least partially functional.

  Whether it could get off the ground was another matter.

  “I will run system checks immediately,” Zek said, “We shall know soon if this ship can get us back to The Hojan’s Murder.”

  If The Hojan’s Murder was still in orbit.

  The look Captain Tejoh gave him said he was thinking the same thing.

  Tejoh rubbed his chin and glanced around the cabin.

  “Find out what type of star drive this thing has,” he said, “We might be better off bringing it to HeJovna.”

  Zek nodded. “It would be a prize, Captain.”

  “There’s an entire armory of prizes, Commander Zek,” Tejoh said, “Enough Dendon technology to make us wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.”

  A tightness gripped Zek’s chest. The Captain was dreaming of treasure again. In normal circumstances, that would be a good thing. Something Zek would have wholeheartedly gone along with. Might have even suggested to the captain himself.

  But that time was past. How to persuade this idiot, though?

  “Captain…” Zek said, “Indeed it can. And, under your command, we shall load this ship with as much Dendon weaponry as we can lift. After that, you are no doubt thinking our priority should be removing ourselves from the Dendon system with as must haste as this ship can give us. After all, the menace that destroyed the excursion craft is still out there.”

  Tejoh threw his head back and laughed. Chills ran through Zek. Had the captain finally lost the remnants of his tiny mind?

  “Zek, you fool,” Tejoh said, “That thing won’t attack a Dendon craft. We have nothing to worry about.”

  Which, on the surface seemed logical. However…

  “Captain, these devices that are guarding the system,” Zek said, “They may be programmed to destroy any ship, including Dendon ones. Our own ships must submit a key to the Hejovna global defense network before entering the system. It is likely the Dendons employed similar measures.”

  Tejoh scowled at him.

  “Why would this ship not do the same?” He said, “Just turn it on.”

  Zek refrained from smacking the captain's head. Idiot. How had Tejoh managed to get command of a battlecruiser?

  Ah, yes. Nepotism.

  How bad would it be if he accidentally ran the captain through with his armor’s blade? Or maybe have the captain trip and accidentally break his neck?

  It wouldn’t be a great loss.

  Zek moved to close up his armor.

  Captain Tejoh was quicker. In a flash, he brought up his hand and put a cold, silvery object against Zek's forehead.

  It appeared, from an admittedly distorted closeup view, to be some sort of sleek hand weapon.

  "Look at what Sergeant Kyn found for me," Tejoh said, "He says its a magnetic projectile weapon. Still quite effective. I used it to put a few holes in the walls over at the armory. Haven't tried it out on flesh. Yet."

  Zek forced a smile. Lowered his hands.

  “Yes, lovely weapon, Captain,” he said, “I should probably see about checking the ship’s systems.”

  Tejoh bared his teeth. “You do that, Commander Zek.”

  They stood there a moment longer, then Tejoh lowered the weapon. Zek turned and went to the command consoles and seated himself in the nearest chair. After a few moments, the captain turned and walked out of the cabin.

  Zek blew out a hot sigh.

  One of them wasn’t going to make it back to Hejovna.

  And it wasn’t going to be him.

  Sixty-Six

  The Dendon

  No little man, I am here to challenge YOU.

  Koba shrank back from the hot, sulfurous breath of the dragon. The huge beast’s bronze scales glittered in the light from the many fires dotting the scorched land. There was a taste of ashes in his mouth. Smoke swirled around him and the dragon. Who beat its enormous leathern wings and sent streamers and eddies of smoke whirling away.

  He was vaguely aware of Ivfa and The King standing somewhere behind him.

  Along with his armor and the sword.

  The ground under his feet trembled with the beat of the dragon’s heart.

  Thump thump…thump thump…

  The beast’s sinuous neck arched down, bringing the great head, with its six, black, twisting horns down to Koba’s level. The dragon’s fiery eyes were like twin pits into the molten heart of the world. It opened its long jaw. Sulfurous fumes drifted out over jagged rows of black teeth.

  The dragon’s deep, sonorous voice issued forth:“Are y
ou ready for your Challenge, child?”

  Koba clenched his fists. The beast expected fear from him. Or maybe cowering awe.

  It would get none of those things.

  After serving the so-called King all these years, there were no horrors left to shock him. After hundreds of battles, there were no men or beasts that could make him tremble in fear.

  All that was left was death.

  And if his death awaited him today, then he would not turn and run from it.

  He drew himself up to his full height, and in his strongest voice said: “What do you want, Dragon?”

  The Dragon’s head pulled back. Rising, rising and rising into the smokey black air. The fiery eyes became blazing pinpoints hovering in the air as the smoke closed around them again.

  The Dragon’s voice echoed out over the dense air.

  “I do not want, little man,” it said, “I take. I am hunger. I am fury. I am the vengeance that takes wing in the night.”

  A rush of sulfurous, smokey air. Suddenly those blazing eyes were right in front again. The heat of them nearly blistered his skin. But he stood his ground.

  The Dragon beat his wings again. Smoke swirled away. Leaving an uneven dome of clear air over the Dragon and himself. The beast’s bronze scales gleamed. Almost as if they were lit from within.

  “The question is…can you control me?” The Dragon said, “Can you take my fury and turn it into an engine that powers the creation of light? Or would you feed my hunger? Would you embrace the thirst for vengeance that smolders in the heart of every being?”

  Koba shook his head. The Dragon’s words had beat against him like a downpour. The words had more power to them than just sound. The Dragon was trying to force itself into his mind.