The Forever Life (The Forever Series Book 1)

by Craig Robertson

  TWELVE

  Seventeen years after the launch of Ark 1

  Soon to be ex-President Marshall rested back in his chair. A tribute banquet was the last thing he needed or wanted, but there had been no way out of it. The world insisted. Well, most of the world. The part that didn't want to see his head on a pole rotting in the sun. To be in office almost a quarter century in the most trying of times imaginable, sure, he'd made many a ravenous enemy. But, to hell with them. He did what he knew was best. If they didn't like the plan, they could stay put another fifty years and then do whatever they liked with the place. For about a week. Then they'd be atomized right along with his corpse. He had instructed the mortician to curl his lips up in a smile for that comeuppance.

  “John,” someone said from behind, “what thought're you lost in now?” It was Roger Carl, his former chief of staff. His wheelchair was being guided to Marshall's side.

  “Roger, I'm so glad you could make it.” His health was known to be failing. “How are you?”

  “How am I? I'm more dead than alive, that's how I am.” They shared a chuckle. “Damn it, John, I wish I could've been with you to the end.” He weakly pounded the armrests of his prison. “Those damn strokes! I let you down.”

  “You never let me down, old friend. I could never have accomplished half of what I did without you.” He rubbed Roger's forearm. “You deserve to rest.”

  “Hah! In peace, you mean.” After further laughter, he grew serious. “So, how are you, John, really?” He was privy to the knowledge that the president's cancer had spread throughout his bones as well as to his brain.

  John grinned wickedly. “About ready to join you in that peaceful rest.”

  “I'll appreciate the good company.” After a pause, he summed up his thoughts. “So, the first real presidential election in three decades. Whom are we backing?” As if he didn't know.

  “I'm thinking my son'll make a fine successor. He's learned at our sides and can hit the ground running.”

  Roger scowled. “What about the talk of a new dynasty? King John II. That's what they're calling him.”

  “If anyone feels that way then they probably shouldn't vote for him, now should they?”

  “That ludicrous 'Save Earth' movement has gathered a lot of support. They may be tough to beat.”

  The president bristled. “If the people of Earth are so stupid as to think we can move the Earth and alter Jupiter's trajectory, then we actually deserve to die as a species. If we lose focus long enough to prove that idea is bananas, that's what'll surely happen.” He folded his arms and looked away.

  “Let's just hope for the best, shall we?” Roger reached over awkwardly and patted his shoulder. “We did good, John. Your son'll see our work to its conclusion. You'll see.” He giggled. “I guess you won't. Neither will I.”

  John raised his glass. “I'll drink to that!” After they were done, he continued. “We're definitely moving in the right direction. But I worry we're spinning our wheels. We have several asteroids en route, but we haven't really accomplished anything!”

  Roger mocked his friend. “Not accomplished anything? You redirected the entire educational systems to provide subsidized educations in the sciences. I'd say you accomplished a hell of a lot.”

  Looking into the distance, Marshall responded sadly, “At the cost of virtually eliminating the instruction of literature, history, and the arts.”

  “We have,” Roger countered, “thousands of workers in space. There are four androids searching for our new home. Face the facts, John. You've done an incredible job.”

  “Four missions, yes. But, so far, only Ryan has reported one potential planet. And it has giant lizards and oceans full of carnivores the size of football stadiums. I need results, not promise.”

  “What you need is another drink, as do I.” He turned to his assistant. “Make yourself useful and find us a bottle of bourbon.” With determination, he looked his former boss in the eye. “You did the impossible, John. You united the planet. You gave the people reason to hope.”

  “Did I tell you the Israelis want their own asteroid all to themselves? They said if we don't give them one, they'll make it themselves.” He shook his arms in frustration. “Like, that's a threat? Give us what we want or we'll make your life easier.”

  “Yes,” Roger replied dubiously, “I heard the Swiss want one too, to maintain their neutrality.”

  “Hell,” he scoffed, “three-quarters of the world want their own ships! Like it's possible or even reasonable to insulate yourself from your own species in its darkest hour.” He shook his head. “I tell you honestly, I'm glad I won't be around at the end to see the pettiness and the posturing we're capable of.”

  “I'll drink to that.”

  “Rog, come with me back to the White House. Let's get some actual work done, leave all this nonsense behind.” He gestured broadly around the room.

  “I'd love to, but the speeches aren't over yet.”

  “They are for me,” he said, standing up.

  THIRTEEN

  The next system I explored was Luhman 16a. The journey took me almost seven years, measured in my time. Back on Earth, nearly thirty-five years had passed. Even with my physics training, it was hard to get my head around. Jane had told me she was pushing forty. If she was still alive, she'd be nearly eighty. Saunders, De Jesus, and Marshall were all dead. Oh well, I knew that was all going to happen when I signed on. It was more real, however, now that it was happening.

  The Luhman system consisted of eight planets, but only one, LS 2, was in the habitable zone. The rest were either too far away from the star, hence too cold, or they were gas giants. When I was six months away for LS 2, I began a detailed analysis of the planet. A little bigger than Earth and its revolution around the star took six months. Polar ice caps were prominent and a strong magnetic field protected the planet from radiation, much like Earth's. These were excellent indicators. As I grew closer, I could detect four small moons, rocky like ours. By the time I was a few weeks away, I picked up signs of multiple smaller moons. They just might represent artificial satellites, indicating there was an advanced civilization on LS 2. Interesting.

  As I entered high orbit, I confirmed the smaller objects were indeed artificial satellites. There was intelligence down there! Out of the blue one day, Al announced that we were being hailed. A transmission originating from the surface had been aimed directly at Ark 1. How cool!

  “So, Al, I'm dying here. What did they say?”

  “Cool your jets, flyboy! The initial signal was a simple binary code expressing fundamental mathematical concepts. They're providing me with a template to assist in translation. I confirmed back receipt and included an identical set of information from our reference frame. So far, nothing significant has been received.”

  “How long ago was your transmission?”

  “Recently,” he said with obvious irritation.

  “Well, let me know as soon as they send another message.”

  His response was indignant. “Really! I was going to put the letter in the shredder and never mention a word of it to you. Thank you for underestimating my worth, yet again.”

  I made no reply. I'd learned it was best to not engage him when he was in a snit, which was most of the time. Shortly, he had a report to make. “They have sent the following message: Welcome to the planet Reglic. The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge bestows His blessings and greeting upon you. Please state your purpose in entering His realm. Know that He is all powerful and without mercy to His enemies. He is equivalently gracious and welcoming to His Friends.”

  “The Huge, eh? I wonder how big the guy is?”

  “I suggest diplomacy, not levity. You might get us both killed with that tepid humor of yours.”

  “Tell them this: I am Jonathan Ryan, captain of Ark 1. I come in peace as part of my mission of exploration. I would be honored to meet Tersfeller the Huge and greet him on behalf of my people. Do not tell them any speci
fics about Earth. Until I know they're friendly, I'm not revealing a thing which could bite us in the butt.”

  “Prudence? How unanticipated yet appropriate. They have transmitted the coordinates of the location they'd like you to land. They want to know when to expect you.”

  “I want to see if we can figure out some of the local politics before I meet with anyone. Tell them I need to do some repairs on the ship. I'll let them know when I'm certain it's safe to leave. Hopefully it won't be more than a few days, local.”

  “Hm.”

  “What?

  “Seems they don't believe you. They sent this reply almost immediately: You are in the hegemony of The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge. He may not be made to wait. He expects His new friend Captain Ryan to present himself no later than sundown. That's in about three hours. My, but he seems full of himself, doesn't he? I'm glad I won't be groveling at his feet, assuming he has feet, that is.”

  “I'll let you know as soon as I meet him. Not too sure about the groveling part.” I had to think things through. In all the preflight planning and contingencies, this kind of scenario never came up. Naturally I had to be cordial, but was I willing to prostrate myself, if asked to do so? We were about to find out, weren't we? “Al, send the following response: Captain Ryan will make every effort to meet with The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge before nightfall. He will make known his departure and travel times as soon as they are established. That should be nebulous enough to let Huge know I'm no one's bitch, without pissing his Bulkiness off too much.”

  “Did I mention how glad I am to not be there when you first meet?”

  I stalled as long as I could, then had Al let them know I was leaving. I anticipated landing shortly before the appointed time. I had a bad feeling. Sure, lots of potentates take themselves too seriously. But this guy wanted to A) call all the shots, and B) prevent me from studying his world before he sized me up. Maybe there was someone or something he'd rather I not know about before he gave me his version of the truth. Possibly he was just a megalomaniac. Either way, best to play it close to the vest. The atmosphere of Reglic was perfect for humans. The oxygen content was double that of Earth. Still, I wanted to give nothing away. I took oxygen tanks and a mask along to give the illusion of vulnerability.

  After I set the shuttle down, I dropped the ramp. There to meet me were ten Reglicians. Oh my. They were not huge. Maybe Tersfeller was, but these guys were tiny. I had an instant WTF moment, then needed all my self-restraint to not laugh violently. I was looking at ten walking donuts. Huge's people were exactly the size of glazed donuts. They had numerous tiny white legs, like centipedes, and four pairs of short arms. Their heads were held aloft above the center of the donut by four tubes coalescing into one vertical tube six centimeters high supporting a cotton ball with six eyes circumferentially. After I got over my initial shock, it hit me that these were the cutest little creatures I'd ever seen. I wanted to pick one up and play with it and stuff a few into my pockets. Probably bad initial diplomacy. I restrained myself.

  My appearance must have been an unpleasant surprise. Several donuts started running away from me, emitting very high-pitched chirps. Al couldn't translate the noises. I guessed it was Reglician for “oh shit, I'm gunna die.” That's when any pretense of cute ended. The three guys who didn't flee reached into pouches and whipped out tiny sticks. Silently, bolts of light emerged and struck the ones running. Within three seconds, all seven had explosive wounds and were motionless. Tiny clouds of smoke rose from their corpses. The weapons were quickly stashed back in the pouches.

  The nearest one to me spun around. He spoke and I translated the words myself. “I am Fellulex The Grand, son of The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge. On his behalf I welcome you.” His head rotated quickly. “Where are the others in your crew?”

  Ambiguously, I responded, “I come alone.” I didn't want to lie, but there was no need for details.

  “And you are Captain Ryan?”

  Good. He assumed there were others. “Yes. I am honored to meet you, Fellulex.”

  He emitted a high squeal. It wasn't like the screams a minute earlier, but it didn't translate. I think I stepped on his ego.

  “You are not familiar with our ways, Captain Ryan. For now, your stupidity will be forgiven. I hope you are a fast learner. I will assume you would prefer I not kill you.”

  Okay, this jerk was officially on my shit list. I was stupid and threatened with death all in one breath, a minute after our first meeting. These donuts might be cute, but they were not cuddly. Arrogant and intolerant, yes, but lovable, no.

  “First,” he continued, “all your crew must bend before The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge immediately. To do less is a death-insult. Second, our names are who we are. Never shorten them. I am Fellulex The Grand. My father is, to you, The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge. I shall not school you again in these matters.”

  I had an impulse to squash the twerp like a bug with the sole of my boot and scrape him off on his papa. I eased back on my anger. “Fellulex The Grand,” I began, “I hope greatly we don't complicate matters by getting off to a bad start. I'm from a planet very far away. There, we know nothing of Reglic or its inhabitants. I'm your guest. You invited me here and I came in goodwill. Please understand that you know nothing of our ways, just as we know nothing of yours. Please be aware that I too could easily be insulted based on simple misunderstandings. No good can come of that.”

  He made that shrill squawk again, twice. “We are not lectured to, either, Captain Ryan, by those inferior to us. At this moment you're a guest. You might quickly become a prisoner if you continue to act like a shgrewtomp.” (Al piped in that he didn't know what that was, but his guess was it was a bad thing).

  “There sure are a lot of rules on Reglic. Where I come from, visitors are greeted with less threats and rudeness. If you continue to act like a son of a shgrewtomp, I will climb back on my ship and go where I'm welcomed.”

  Four squeaks this time, the last one significantly longer than any yet. I think the donut was mad. Just as I was about to bolt, he said something I couldn't make out. Then he spoke to me. “I can see your point, new friend. My behavior might have been mistaken for ungracious hostility. For that I apologize. Would you please do us the honor of accompanying me to greet our master?”

  No way the little puke could mean any of that. Papa must have whispered something in his ear. What had I said? Ah! I threatened to “go where I'm welcomed.” There must be some opposing groups papa pastry doesn't want me to meet just yet. That's a valuable piece of information. Or, I was stepping into a trap. If they drew me farther from my ship, I'd be more at their mercy, which seemed a decidedly limited quality in these parts. I was far from defenseless, so I was fairly certain I could take the chance. Even though this group of locals was revolting, the planet was a prize.

  “Lead on,” I said. “But, first, I'm curious. What happened with,” I pointed to the corpses, “those fellows?”

  “They ran in cowardice. There's no greater offense against The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge than such behavior. They are fortunate I only ordered them shot. Far worse was called for.”

  I could see relationships with these guys were going to be a challenge. My first concern, as we walked, was that I'd never be able to fit into any of their buildings. The ones I'd seen so far were the size of dog houses and wine boxes. I'd be lucky to squeeze my head into one to meet Tersfeller. I'd sure look undignified if I did. Fortunately, the structure we headed toward was—I have to say it—huge. It was the size of a two-story house in the suburbs. Versailles it was not, but maybe for them it was.

  The arched door swung open as we approached and several creatures scampered out, flanking either side of the entry. The vestibule was the small, maybe ten meters square. I had to stoop slightly to clear the ceiling. They directed me to wait there. Fellulex disappeared behind a set of
doors. Shortly, he returned, leaving the passage open behind him.

  “You may enter and be received by The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge.”

  His stumpy arms pointed generally toward the next room. The throne room was even bigger. It needn't have been. Tersfeller might be huge in ways I couldn't appreciate, but, to my eye, he was maybe a jelly donut at best.

  Once I was in, Fellulex trumpeted loudly. “Be illuminated by the presence of The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge. Bow before him!”

  I nodded my head. Wasn't going to bow, let alone grovel. Not after the performance Fellulex put on. The head donut was going to have to win my respect before I'd show him any. “Nice to finally meet you, The Most Perfect and Holy Emperor Tersfeller the Huge. I'm Captain Ryan, but please, just call me Jon.”

  The room exploded with those chirpy sounds. The negative reaction I received was like I farted in a crowded elevator. On Reglic, contraction was apparently a sin.

  Fortunately, the emperor was unmoved. “Welcome, Jon,” he said. “Thank you for coming to greet me. It speaks well for our future relationship. Mutual benefit will be gained for us both.”

  With those words, I became more certain he wanted something from me. Down deep, he had to be as disagreeable as his son. He, however, was able to try and game me. He wanted me to like him.

  “We can,” I responded, “only hope that will be the case.”

  “You are,” the emperor began, “the first off-worlder we have encountered. We must look as odd to you as you do to us. But, please, don't allow outward differences to sully what I'm confident will be a closeness between our people.”

  More lofty, hollow words. Politicians were right up there with raw sewage on my list of dislikes. But, I had to try to make nice. “Outward differences suggest nothing of inner worth.” There, I could sound like a fortune cookie too, when necessary.

  “I must know, Jon, what is it that brings you to my planet? I have a thousand other questions, but this one concerns me most acutely.”