Forever Series 4: The Forever Quest

by Craig Robertson

  I snapped. I launched the probes into him and slammed him into the ceiling. Crap. I was holding an android driven by a remotely controlled AI. I could see the real Varrank through my contact, and he gloated even more.

  When the guards seized me, I didn’t resist. When they blindfolded me and bound me like a mummy, I didn’t struggle. When they tossed me into a small room, I didn’t protest. I lay still. All that I was had left me. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to have never existed.

  Before he closed the door, the robot Varrank said, “I shall leave you here a short while to become as miserable as you can. Though I find that it can take days, in your case I will wait but an hour. Then your torture will begin in earnest. Oh, as you are so proficient at escape, know this. The walls of this cell are meter-thick steel. The there are many guards outside the door, on the floors above and below you, and in every surrounding room. I would shake your hand if you escaped from this.”

  I didn’t even swear at him as he sealed the door. No snark or clever comebacks. I was done.

  EIGHTEEN

  I lay on my side for several minutes before I decided to try and sit up. It was hard. My binding was so tight it was difficult to bend at the waist. I pushed myself backward until I hit the wall, then shimmied my shoulders so I was almost sitting at ninety degrees. I extended my probes. They cut through the cloth easily. I clumsily yanked off my blindfold. It was pitch black in my cell. I started to unwind some wrappings, but it was slow going. In fifteen minutes, my left arm was free enough to allow me to undo the rest of the mummy wrap. Great, now I was only in a locked in a metal coffin surrounded by guards and a bunch of Berrillians too. I had them right where I wanted them.

  I could always release the seals on my power units and blow a big hole where the palace used to be, but that wouldn’t necessarily accomplish much. Varrank could be anywhere. Crippling his base of operations would delay his dastardly plan, but only just. I couldn’t stop the successful attack. I kind of knew this was my last adventure. I had to try to save the worldships, but the odds were too long this time. I hated knowing how much we’d struggled as a race, all that we’d accomplished, for it all to end violently. Humans really didn’t deserve such a fate.

  I started banging the back of my head against the wall out of frustration. Even the iconoclastic, risk-taking mind of Jon Ryan couldn’t come up with a solution. I checked in with Al. He didn’t have any long-shot plans, rash advice, or impossible interventions to suggest either. He was sad, that I could tell. I asked him not to let the other two know my situation until after I was…dead? Turned off? Decommissioned? Who the hell knew? Who the hell cared what it was called. I didn’t.

  Sitting there in the dark, I thought about Sapale and Carl Simpson and Jane Geraty and General Saunders and Offlin and so many others who’d died in my past. I loved them all. That I was about to join them made me feel a little better. That I’d failed my species, my friends, more than negated my temporary positive feelings, however.

  Almost without noticing, I felt a strange sensation. No sound, vibration, or smell. Just a buzz in the air. I’d never felt such a thing before and had no idea what it was, if it was anything at all. Maybe I was cracking up, and that’s what people who’ve lost it felt like. I started banging my head against the wall again, only a little harder.

  “That’s got to hurt,” said a voice in my cell. It was a familiar voice, but I couldn’t quite place it. And what the hell was it doing in here? As sure as I couldn’t get out, no one could get in. Plus, who’d be crazy enough to break into a prison?

  “Who’s there?” I asked in a hushed tone.

  “I might be the boogeyman. Maybe you could, I don’t know, turn on a light and see if you should be scared.” There was a mirth in the voice completely out of keeping with my grim situation.

  I emitted a low-level light beam from my eyes.

  No way. No fucking way. I was looking at myself, but not in a mirror. My mind raced. Could it be another incarnation of the evil Stuart Marshall? No. Even if he was reanimated, he’d never be there in the cell with me.

  “Good,” he said, “you got the bindings off. Saves me the trouble. So you ready to go? Or do you want to stay and find out if Varrank is serious about doing you wrong?” He bobbed his head. “I’m thinking he’s dead serious, but it’s your call.”

  “Uto? Is that you, Uto?”

  “You’re such a chump. You know that, don’t you? I made that up at the spur of the moment. Figured it’d take you like ten seconds to out me. Now, what, it’s two centuries later, and you still think it’s my name? What a maroon.”

  Who says maroon? Well, I guess I do.

  “You can’t be here.”

  “What, should I have asked permission first? You think Varrank would make an exception in our case?”

  “Stop it. No, I mean you literally can’t be here. There’s no way out. Trust me on that. So logically, there’s no way in.”

  “Now you’re what, Mr. Spock?”

  “If I wasn’t hurting myself, I’d so punch you out.”

  He rocked his head sideways rapidly a second. “You want to brawl or leave? I personally don’t want to be present when those smelly Quelstrum come to retrieve you. Double the pleasure, double the fun is not a gift I’d like to give your captor.”

  “You mean our captor?”

  “I do not. He caught your pansy ass, not mine. I’m way too smart for a jerk like him to catch.” He tapped a finger on his chest. “I’m the cavalry.”

  “Fine. Let’s get out of here. But how? What’s your plan? I couldn’t come up with anything.”

  “Glad I’m sitting down. That news might have knocked me over.”

  “Your plan?” I said straining my voice.

  “Here’s the plan. If you escape here, where would you go?” He held out a hand. “Be reasonable. Don’t choose Disneyland or Sally Jones’s basement.”

  He really was me. Sally lived next door when I was ten or eleven. We, you know, played in her basement. Okay, I’ll just say it. We played doctor in her basement. TMI? Sorry.

  “After escaping this cell, I’d return to Shearwater. I’d be safe and could plan my next move.”

  Instead of answering, he gently closed his eyes. Without speaking, he moved his lips, like a prayer or a chant.

  Then my eyes exploded with light. We were sitting on the deck of Shearwater’s bridge. Two very surprised and confused Beckzel siblings jumped from their chairs. Karnean spilled his coffee on a control panel. He said something akin to gurulf.

  “Captains, plural, on the bridge,” Al announced blandly.

  “What the hell?” yelled Kayla.

  “Two of them? Crap,” was Karnean’s immediate reaction. “One was a lot to handle.”

  I stood up, the real me. D’oh! I meant the original…the not really old me. I, the me with Deavoriath command prerogatives, stood up. “Easy. No Problem. I’m fine. We’re fine. No problems.”

  “You said that already,” said the other Jon.

  “Fine, Jon, there’s no problem. You return from your suicide mission having cloned yourself rather than dying in a blaze of glory. I assume an explanation is forthcoming,” Karnean was no longer shocked, I guess.

  “I’m not his clone,” said still seated Jon. “I’m hi—”

  “His twin brother. So, yes, clone was close to correct,” I said speaking very quickly. “Yes. Twin brother,” I repeated, pointing at him.

  “You never mentioned a brother, let alone a twin,” said Kayla.

  “Long lost twin brother. So long lost, I’d put him out of, you know, my mind. Out of sight, out of mind.” I smiled for some unclear reason.

  “If I’m your twin brother, what’s my name?” asked the Jon then standing and dusting himself off.”

  “You forgot your twin’s name?” Kayla said incredulously.

  “Or never knew it?” Karnean said more as an accusation.

  “Davis. Of course, I know his name.” I rapped him on the shoulder an
d introduced him. “This is my brother, older by eleven minutes, Davis Ryan. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Isn’t that my line?” asked Davis.

  Both Beckzels stared intently at us.

  Can you hear me? I asked in my head.

  Of course, I can. When did you think I checked out of this loony bin?

  Not you, Al. You, Uto, you.

  Is this a knock knock joke? asked Davis. Knock knock. Who’s there? Uto you. Uto you who?

  I’m familiar with the format, I responded to stop him.

  I am also, if that’s important, added Al.

  So, you can hear me? I asked, lamely.

  No, not a word. Do humans still use the word moron?

  They don’t know about the android, live forever thing. I’d like to break it to them gently at some future date. Is that okay?

  “Okay? Why on earth should I care one way or another? They’re your friends, not mine. This is your ship, not mine.

  They’re not really my friends. They shanghaied me.

  Then it’s all right if I hit on the babe?

  “No it is not all right if you hit on the b—” I realized I’d switched back to vocal communication.

  “Hit on the what, little brother. B…b…b…” teased Davis

  “Basics of my argument.” Huh?

  “You two weren’t arguing. You were standing there looking at each other in silence.” Karnean was so helpful.

  “Your eyes were moving a lot,” added Kayla. “Are you two telepathic?”

  “Telepathic. No,” I blustered. “Humans aren’t telepathic. It’s a game we used to play when we were kids. We’d guess what the other was about to say.”

  “You were playing a game and you thought your big brother was about to say no it’s not all right if you hit on the basics of my argument?” Her cute little mouth dropped open.

  “You never were any good at that game, were you, scruffy?” With that, he messed up my hair on his way to sit next to Kayla.

  “Scruffy?” said Karnean.

  “Long story,” I replied.

  “And here I was thinking you and I were weird, sis,” he said to Kayla.

  “Okay, a moment, if y’all don’t mind,” I said, trying to sound authoritative. “Al, status report.”

  “All systems optimal. No messages or traffic from the surface.”

  “Thank you,” I responded, tugging at my shirt.

  “Since when do you thank me for routine updates?”

  “I always thank you, some of the time.”

  I had best shut up.

  “Whatever. I’ll be in my room if either of you need me.”

  “Maybe if we hold our breath we can swim back to the planet,” Karnean said to his sister.

  “I’ll start practicing and keep you posted,” she replied, not taking her eyes off us.

  I thought she was joking. She looked like she was joking, sort of.

  “Davis,” I said, again trying to sound in command, “may I speak to you in my cabin?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  I turned to the others. “Official business.” I pointed to Davis, then toward my quarters. “Nothing big. Mostly personal stuff. He…”

  “Please go,” Karnean said roughly.

  The instant my cabin door closed, I blurted out, “What the hell just happened back there?”

  “You made a fool of yourself. You convinced your friends you’re insane and…”

  “No. Back on Deerkon. You know I meant on Deerkon.”

  “I did? All right, I did. But messing with you is kind of fun. I don’t have a lot of fun, so I seized the opportunity.”

  “I’m going to seize your throat if you don’t explain what happened.”

  “You really should switch to decaf, bro.”

  I closed my eyes. “Deerkon?”

  “Oh, that. I rescued you. What else would you like to know?”

  “Ah, maybe how you knew I needed rescuing, how you knew I was in that cell on Deerkon, and how the hell you pulled that miracle off?”

  “It wasn’t a miracle. I don’t do miracles.”

  “Me neither. Thanks. We don’t do magic either, so how did you do it?”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  I was bethumped. “I am speaking for myself. What are you talking about?”

  “No, you said we didn’t do magic. Speak for yourself. I don’t do miracles, but I do magic.”

  “If we cannot have a serious conversation, I’m going to walk out that…”

  “I am serious. Deadly serious.”

  “So, you performed magic to get us out of that cell?”

  “It was no performance. It was an act of magic. Do you have any other possible explanation that can trump my suggestion?”

  “You have a transporter beam.”

  “Like Star Trek?”

  “So you admit it.”

  “No. I said like Star Trek. You think I used a 1960’s TV science fiction show’s imaginary technology to rescue you? You’re worse off than I thought.”

  “Then how. And don’t say magic.”

  “I knew you were in trouble and where you were because I check in with Al periodically.”

  “You check in with Al? He’s my ship’s AI.”

  “He was mine too. Still is in the future.”

  “No. This Al is mine, not yours.”

  “You’ll get used to the time thing. It takes a while.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me you were eavesdropping?”

  “Because I wasn’t. He knew it was Jon Ryan calling. He’s programmed to respond to our queries.”

  “But he had to know it wasn’t me.”

  He just stared back.

  “No, I mean…”

  “It takes time. Don’t short out on me, okay?”

  “Back to the magic. Why are you even saying that?”

  “Jon,” he said stepping toward me, “look into my eyes. I’m not kidding. I used magic to place us here. There was no other solution, even for me.”

  “So, I’m a wizard in the future?”

  “No. A male witch is a warlock. Wizards are completely different. And you’re not. I am.”

  “The human worldship fleet, all of humanity is in mortal peril. I need your help, and I need it now. You can per…do magic? That’s insane.”

  “No. It’s hard to imagine, extremely unlikely, but it’s not insane.”

  “But how?”

  “That’s another story for another time. Right now, we need to alert the worldships. Without our help, you’re right; they’re goners.”

  “When did you learn of this? Were you working to save them too?”

  “No. The first I heard of it was when you told me just now.”

  “Then how do you know they’re defenseless?”

  “Hello. Berrillian gravity wave generators. I was at Azsuram too. The worldships will be sitting ducks.”

  “Why did you let them kill Sapale?” There, I said it. It was in the front of my mind since the moment she died in my arms.

  He looked at the floor but didn’t answer.

  “I’m not moving until you tell me. She was my brood’s-mate and the love of my otherwise pitiful excuse for a life. Tell me and tell me now.”

  “I doubt you’d understand. Remember, I loved her too.”

  Wait, yeah, he had his Sapale. That made what he did even worse.

  “I don’t give a shit if I understand your reasoning, but I will hear it now. If you would have intervened sooner, she’d be alive today.”

  “And you’d be fat and happy on Azsuram and not here doing your job, your forever job. Defending humanity’s right to survive.”

  Wow, didn’t see that coming.

  “So you knew if she died…”

  “I knew nothing of the sort. I just know a hell of a lot more than you, and I did what I had to do.”

  “So, you live fifteen centuries more than me and that makes you so smart you can let my mate die? That’s offensive.”

 
“Listen, it’s like this. I helped you with the membranes because without them, they all died. All of them, Jon. I killed the Berrillians when and only when it was clear you couldn’t. Maybe you would have defeated them without my help. I had to wait and see.”

  “Why? I don’t get why.”

  “If I helped you, I knew you’d come after me just like you did.”

  “And that’s worse than Sapale’s death?”

  “No, just different. I value my privacy. Jon, I’m from the future. I can’t allow myself to muddle the time stream to save one single person, whoever she might be.”

  “But you saved me three times.”

  “We’re not a just some person. We’re the insurance policy of our species. We always have been and always will be. That is our core mission. I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

  “What—”

  “I failed them once, Jon. I will never fail them again.”

  “I can only imagine your pain.”

  He seethed awhile before responding. “No, little brother, you cannot. I watched the Listhelons murder every living human, destroy the worldships in orbit, and then…you know what those horrible creatures did? They ate their flesh, Jon. They ate the people I was sworn to keep alive. Then I spent fifteen centuries hating myself, blaming myself, and wishing to God I could terminate myself. But I couldn’t, Jon. You know why? You know why I couldn’t stop, why I couldn’t end? Because I had to save the people I didn’t save. That is my pain, little brother. You will never feel it, so please don’t say those words again. No one will ever feel my pain.”

  He turned away from me. Poor son of a bitch. I had the impulse to go and hug him. I let him be.

  “To fully answer your question,” he began slowly, “I waited as long as I could to intervene because I must allow events to progress as they are supposed to. The only exception is when it comes to humans. Period.”

  He was quiet a long while.

  “If you can live with that, if you can accept that, then we can work together to save the fleet. If you can’t forgive me, I’ll understand. I’ll take my leave, and you’ll never see me again. That’s a promise.”

  “You mean you’ll pass the baton to me? I’ll be in sole charge of our species?”