The Forever Peace

by Craig Robertson

  “There’s one problem with your plan,” Molly shouted over her shoulder. “I called for backup first.” She had no idea if Gortantor had lingered at the portal to hear her oh-so-clever remark, but it felt good to say it anyway.

  EIGHT

  After Shearwater blew a crater the size of a soccer pitch in the ground near the rock mound, I landed and charged the hill. It felt like I was an old-time Marine hitting the beach. It felt damn good. Fortunately, Gortantor and his soldiers ran like the wind down the slope and in the opposite direction from where Shearwater was plainly parked. I bounded up the hill in three strides and rushed into the cave where Molly told me she’d found the Berrillian.

  Then my jaw dropped—literally. There she was, crouched on the ground, cuddling the cat’s massive head like it was her baby’s, rocking it back and forth. My initial reaction was to push Molly clear and dismember the Berrillian. But, it was so bizarre. They looked so peaceful, so natural. I studied the female. She was worse off than I’d imagined from Molly’s description. I doubted very much she could be salvaged. Past a certain point of starvation, no amount of feeding could turn the tide. Not that I cared a rat’s ass about the cat herself, just the intel she could provide if properly motivated. Since that required her remaining among the living, I rested on the cave wall and watched the pair closely.

  “You gonna stare at me or help me get her to my vortex?” Molly asked, staring at the cat’s face.

  “If she’s not dead, I will. But I’m putting her in Shearwater then Wrath. I’m not risking you getting eaten on your first mission.”

  “Why? Because you’d be as good as dead when Kendra found out?”

  “Damn straight. You wanna be a therapeutic buffet, go ahead. But you’re not dragging me down with you. Your mom’ll have me ready for the scrapheap faster than I can say my that’s a big hammer you’ve got there.”

  “She’s my prisoner. She comes with me.”

  She sounded pretty resolute there, didn’t she? While that was a wonderful quality in a young officer, it made my job much harder.

  “I’ll make you a deal. I put that smelly carpet in Expectation, and I ride home with you. Then you pop me back here to retrieve my ride.”

  “Deal,” she replied, still looking at her new pet or whatever.

  We both deployed our probes and gently carried the Berrillian to the cube. The cat barely twitched a muscle the entire way. Once the portal was sealed, Molly put us on her pad back on Exeter. Once down, I signaled Toño than he should meet us at once. He was a human physician, not a veterinarian, but he’d spent a lot of time with Kelldrek, a Berrillian female, back on Azsuram. If anyone could resuscitate her, it was him.

  “My God,” Toño exclaimed as he entered the docking bay. “She’s profoundly malnourished and dehydrated too. She’s at the point of death. What happened to her?”

  “We found her like this, Tapa Tio,” replied Molly. She's called him that since she was a babe in arms.

  “Jon, help me get her to the hospital. Mija, you go first to clear the way and get the elevator.”

  We trotted down the hall, Toño on one side of the flaccid Berrillian and me on the other. Boy howdy did we draw some funny looks from the random people we passed in the corridors. I could just hear them thinking there’s something you don’t see every day.

  After we gently set our captive on the treatment table, several med techs rushed in to help. In a controlled chaos, her garments were cut off, patches on her arms were shaved, blood samples were drawn, and intravenous lines were inserted. A tube went down her throat, and her stomach was being pumped before Toño even asked us to leave. He told us he'd keep us closely posted as to his patient's condition.

  In the corridor outside the sickbay, Molly squatted to the floor with her back up against a wall. I leaned on the wall at her side.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Me? Sure. I’m just worried about her. She was so helpless, so sick.”

  “Ah, before you go feeling all empathetic, remember we’re talking about a Berrillian infiltrator here. She was sent there to kill and prepare for war. Her species has the worst track-record in the galaxy for being reliably sympathetic and lovable.”

  “I know, I know. But she was…I don’t know. It’s probably my imagination, but the way she looked at me when I held her head. I think she was saying thank you.”

  “No, she was saying ‘That human would taste good covered in ketchup.’”

  “Jon, I’m being serious. Please try to do the same.”

  “Fine. But don’t go all animal-shelter infatuation with her. She’s a born killer. If and when she recovers, you can find out how nice she is. Until then, please remain objective. Part of my job as your superior is to make a good officer out of you. Wearing your heart on your sleeve will backfire on you sooner than later. It’s a cold cruel world out there.”

  “Oh, like you always played by the rules and never took massive risks.”

  “Point. But all I’m saying is stay sharp. If you want to nurture strangers, become a nurse or volunteer at a soup kitchen. If you’re an officer in this man’s army, you gotta develop a thick skin.”

  “You’re right. Thanks.” She smiled up at me.

  Crap. She was blowing me off. I knew her too well. Molly Hatcher never conceded one argument or even a single board game. Never. She was a fighter. I couldn’t hold her hand forever. Okay, technically, I guess I could, but that wasn't how a good officer was made.

  Within a few days, it became clear that our prisoner was going to pull through. Critical to her survival, she had ingested none of the toxic inhabitants of LH 16a. She must have received a warning before her supplies gave out. Once her dehydration and kidney infections were resolved, her refeeding began. Toño gave her some intravenous support, but she also began eating liquid protein solutions. A little while later, she was able to chew and swallow cooked meat.

  As soon as she arrived, she’d been chained and had an around-the-clock guard posted to her detail. Once she could sit and stand, she was transferred to the brig, and additional precautions were put in place. Again, Toño’s experience with Kelldrek helped to that end. A week into her recovery, Toño said we could visit with her. Up until then, not even the intel folks could interrogate her.

  “Hi,” I said formally as I stood outside her cell. “I’m General Jon Ryan. You are our prisoner. Please believe me when I assure you no harm will come to you. You will be questioned, but you will not be tortured. If you behave well, you will be safe.”

  She stared at me a while, then looked to Molly. She raised a paw in Molly’s direction. “I may be your prisoner, but I am her friend.”

  “Do you remember me?” Molly asked with too much joy in her voice.

  “Yes. The kindness you showed me can never be forgotten.” She looked to her cell floor. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, I’m Molly Hatcher.”

  “Rasraller. I am your servant.”

  I stepped forward quickly. “She does not require your service. You are a prisoner of war, not a guest. Please keep that in mind.”

  “Humans and their word games. So silly.”

  “How many Berrillians were sent to LH 16a, the planet where you were hidden?” I asked.

  She groaned. “How many were sent, or how many are still alive?” she responded.

  “Both,” I replied.

  “Many and none. There, I am done answering your questions. I will answer no more.”

  “Over time, I certain you will see the wisdom of cooperation. Our interrogation…”

  “I will answer Molly’s questions. I am her servant and can do no less,” said Rasraller, looking at Molly.

  “Captain Hatcher is not able to interrogate prisoners. She is a combat officer, not an intel specialist.”

  Rasraller shrugged. “These words mean nothing to me. Molly and I are bound. It is maldrar, a sacred bond. Neither can break it. Only death can.”

  “Don’t tempt me. In your case, bond interrupti
on would be my pleasure.”

  “Because we killed your mate, General Ryan? Is that why killing me would be a pleasure?”

  Didn’t see that one coming. Ouch, it really hurt.

  “How did—” I began to say.

  “Oh please. We know you are unique among your species. We are taught of your treachery, your hate for our kind, and all of your lies.”

  “Wow, you mean I’m a celebrity? I’m touched.”

  “Not a celebrity. A demon. Your name is a curse.”

  “Your people attacked us, need I remind you?”

  “We defended ourselves against the genocide your Alliance desires.” She kicked at her bedsheets. “It does not matter now. None of that matters.” She growled angrily.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why does it no longer matter?”

  Rasraller sat like a statue.

  “Why does it no longer matter, my friend?” asked Molly.

  She turned her head and seemed to smile at Molly. She couldn’t smile, actually. Berrillians didn’t have the muscles or evolutionary predilection to smile.

  “Do you know what I was told when I called my commander back home and asked permission to abandon my post?”

  “No, Rasraller. I do not,” replied Molly.

  “I reported that my supplies were exhausted and that everything that walked, crawled, swam, or flew on the accursed planet was poisonous. I was told I could not abandon my post. I was to make do. Those were their very words: make do. I asked them what that meant. How was I to make do when making do was impossible? They said they had no ears for a whining bitch. They said I could serve on LH 16a or die a traitor’s death on Berrill.”

  “That’s awful,” Molly said.

  “No, it not awful. It’s not even cruel. I understand cruelty. I was dismissed. I was simply crossed off the list of those in service to Erratarus. We are raised, don’t misunderstand me, in a ruthless, repressive, intolerant society. It is our way. I always thought it fair and correct.”

  “But?” responded Molly.

  “But to care nothing for a soldier, to waste them, to assign them zero value? All they had to do was okay my return in my own vessel. No effort on their part aside from moving their vocal cords was required to save my life and continue my service to the empire.”

  “But they didn’t care enough to say the words,” Molly summarized for her.

  “No. Death has become so familiar that it is more favorable than deciding to save a loyal servant.”

  “Because Erratarus might criticize someone for showing you the slightest mercy or consideration,” said Molly.

  “Because acting wisely and with a longer view might cost some gentwar his or her life,” Rasraller replied with disgust.

  “So, you can’t go back even if we released you?” asked Molly.

  “No. But, more importantly, I would not return. I could never again serve such a mindless and indifferent empire.” She looked then right at me. “I hate the Berrillians more than anyone. I hate them more than you do, Jon Ryan.”

  NINE

  Over the next month, two things happened in my world. One, Rasraller recovered rapidly, eating an unbelievable amount of meat and anything else she could hook her claws into. The other was our interrogation of her. I was determined to tear down the walls of her deception, especially as she directed it to my Moll-Doll. We wanted to extract useful information, to be certain. But I also needed to stop her from falsely drawing in Molly. I knew how vicious and single-minded the Berrillians could be.

  To my surprise, Rasraller answered all of Molly’s questions in a simple and direct manner. I tried to trip her up by having Molly ask her questions she couldn’t possibly have known I knew. Never once did she lie, deceive, or mislead. I began to see she was a seriously low-ranked individual. She was privy to no juicy gossip or specific military details. Not so remarkable, I supposed. The person you buried in deep cover on an alien world couldn’t have been too heavy a hitter. If she had been, they’d have needed her back on the home front.

  Rasraller confirmed that her instructions had been what I imagined they were. She was to dig in like a tick and await a signal to join an attack on the planet or to begin an aggressive guerrilla assault against the locals. Her superiors would determine which tactic would be most useful. There was no time frame. She was told to remain in hiding and to maintain vigilance and contact with home. Otherwise, she might be called to action soon or never. Several thousand Berrillians of either sex were also placed in hiding on LH 16a, in as widely scattered a pattern as possible. They all had the same open-ended assignments.

  She didn’t know how many worlds were similarly infiltrated, but she guessed the number was large. She told us the orientation and training program was very big, with tens of thousands of participants in it To her eye, the setup seemed well-used as opposed to brand spanking new. I had also been correct that Erratarus’s son Claudus was in charge. He’d given his version of an inspirational speech the first day and then she never saw him again. That information was somewhat useful, in that Claudus was known to be as ruthless and merciless as any Berrillian. His reputation for cruelty and wanton violence was legendary even among a race famous for such qualitiess. Rumors had it that even his father feared him.

  Eventually, it came to the point where Rasraller’s veracity had to be definitively determined. She’d regained her health. Molly had become devoted to her. She’d clearly yielded any and all information she could. Rasraller needed to be labeled a long-term POW or set free to live under Molly’s supervision. All of us who loved Molly were overwrought with worry that if Rasraller was released to her supervision, our little angel would be brutally torn to shreds. Molly professed that we were all nuts, and that Rasraller was her true and loyal friend. This wasn’t a point to decide upon lightly. But, leave it to me, I had a plan.

  **********

  I walked quickly into the brig and stopped nose-to-membrane with Rasraller’s confinement wall. Molly followed silently behind, two paces behind me. “Okay, cupcake, time for a road trip.”

  Rasraller rose slowly, cautiously from her bedding. She had never warmed to me, probably because she knew my history and my love for Molly.

  “What is a road trip, human?”

  “Vacation. Oh wait, you cats don’t have a word for that, do you? Ah…we’re going on an adventure. Yes, a grand adventure, just the three of us. It’ll be swell.”

  “We will gain in volume dangerously?” asked Rasraller with a distressed look on her face.

  “Just get a move on.”

  I waved a finger to the guard monitoring us. The membrane disappeared.

  “Off we go,” I said cheerily, and I swept my hand in the direction I wanted her to go.

  “Molly,” she asked with clear reservation, “is this trip all right with you? Where are we going?”

  “I’m in charge here. I told Molly she could observe only if she kept her trap shut. If you have questions, address them to me. If you concerns, address them to the void of space.”

  Tentatively she walked past Molly and me and headed down the corridor. She stared at Molly the whole time, and Molly stared back with a blank look on her face.

  “Not a word, Moll-Doll,” I said to her sternly, “that’s the deal.”

  Molly nodded back in acknowledgement.

  “I’ll tell you where to turn. We’re going to Wrath, and then we’re going on what I’ll call a fact-checking expedition.”

  “Not Expectation?” asked Rasraller. She liked Wrath less than she liked me. Then again, who didn’t?

  “I’m in command. We take my ride.”

  The rest of the trip was silent aside from my directions to Rasraller. We piled into the cube, Molly sat in the far corner, and Rasraller plopped her rear end on the floor a respectful distance from me. I instructed Wrath to take us where I’d directed him to earlier. I wanted our destination to be a complete surprise to my guests.

  A short bout of nausea later, we materialized. I had Wrath blacken
the view screen, so no one could see outside.

  “Open a portal in the starboard wall,” I said flatly.

  An open passage appeared. I walked out. Right by the door, I picked up a plasma rifle in either hand. I think neither woman noticed they had been there.

  “Follow me, both of you.”

  Rasraller went first, followed by Molly.

  “No,” shouted Rasraller the second she was through. “What have you done, you foul beast?”

  “This is a test. For the next sixty seconds, we’ll see whose side you’re really on,” I replied as unemotionally as I could.

  That’s when they saw us. It wasn’t all that hard. We were the only vortex on the bridge of Color of Blood, King Anganctus’s old flagship. The new king, Erratarus, of course needed a bigger better one, so this was the flag for one of the three divisions of the Berrillian fleet. Her captain was someone I’d heard of but never met, Julregar. She was reputed to be a good officer and a master strategist. I chose her ship because one, I knew where it was, and two, she didn’t know me and almost certainly didn’t know Rasraller. I only hoped she didn’t mind impromptu guests, especially those who were her sworn enemies. What could go wrong?

  Someone set off the horrible Berrillian general quarters alarm. I almost covered my ears reflexively. Instead, I raised both rifles and swung them around the bridge. “No one moves, or I will shoot,” I shouted.

  A large male nearby leaped toward me. I blew most of his head off before he began his downward arc, and he flopped to the deck motionless.

  “Any other takers?” I yelled.

  All the cats were frozen where they stood. All but Julregar. She moved toward us slowly, on two feet.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she asked in a level tone.

  “I’m here to deliver a package,” I replied.

  I pointed one gun at Rasraller and waved her toward the captain.

  “Over there. You’ll be safe here with your stinking friends,” I said, trying to sound as vitriolic as possible.